But it went even deeper than that. Being bipolar, having PTSD and surviving almost 30 years of childhood abuse and I never went to therapy for any of it, the dogs were my counselors. I would not have survived the after effects of the flashbacks and memories, if it were not for those dogs that we bred, on purpose, and having all those little pups. I took the harder road, because there was no one I could trust with my secrets except hubby, Mark and six dogs. And after a while even Mark couldn't help me anymore, it was just me and the dogs.
Let that sink in for a minute.
Brain washed for practically 30 years, molested, raped, abused and tortured and the only ones who could help me were the dogs we bred together and the family that came out it. And now all of the healers are dead and gone. Brut, Silver, Blaze, Chance, Fiona and Zappa. That tells me how far I've come and that their purpose on Earth is complete. No one told me it would hurt this much to be so proud and honored at the same time. I have mixed feelings that I can't even begin to explore at this time. Maybe in another post. I mean, how do you inhale and digest all of that information? Those puppies that I didn't want to have, saved my life, my soul, my mind over and over again. How do I thank them? How do I ever repay them?
And because the abuse was so damaging it took every one of those dogs to help me trust my husband fully and completely. And I never realized any of this until they all died. Until they all died. I'm still in total shock and grief with just that fact alone, but to come to this epiphany is way beyond my comprehension. All these years I thought I knew and understood what unconditional love was from a dog. I was no where close. No where. They had more purpose and value than what I gave them and I gave them a lot. So much more will be revealed.