30 day meme, day 14
Dec. 26th, 2010 10:41 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sprinkletheifDay 14 - Your earliest memory.
i think time lines tend to get mixed up as far as memories go, and its hard to pinpoint what really was our earliest memory. that being said, i'm at least going to try to remember the earliest to the best of my ability.
i want to say it was when i was attacked by a dog when i was maybe 3 or 4. we had this german shepard mix that was kind of a dickhead, but me being the strange "i can't tell if someone or something hates me" little kid i was, i still tried to pet and cuddle him. according to my dad, i pulled his tail. according to my mom, i laid my head down on his side while he was laying down. i honestly don't remember who is right, i just remember teeth and lots of blood, my dad grabbing up the dog by its neck and everyone screaming. i remember my dad and the dog disappeared while my mom was trying to scoop me up and get me in the car, and i remember hearing a *pop* sound from the woods as we drove away to the hospital.
at the hospital, i remember not really understanding what was going on. retrospectively that was probably for the best. then i was on a table, strapped to some kind of board. i don't really know if that part is true, but i remember the big-ass surgery light and people with masks over my face and chest, then everything slowly fading away.
i woke up and my mom was next to me. at some point a doctor came in to talk to us and he brought me a banana popsicle. to this day i still love those damn things, and i hate bananas. i'm pretty sure we went home soon after, my face and chest all stitched up. when we got home, i remember calling for the dog to tell him it was okay and that i forgave him, but he didn't come. i searched the whole house and didn't see him. i went out back and he wasn't there. finally i asked my dad where skipper was, and this is when i learned about what death was. my dad took the dog out into the woods and shot him so he wouldn't hurt anybody else. i remember not really being affected by it, i don't know if it was because i didn't really understand or if i was just like "oh, well, that's what dad says, so i guess that's it."
looking back that's pretty fucking morbid, but there it is...
i think time lines tend to get mixed up as far as memories go, and its hard to pinpoint what really was our earliest memory. that being said, i'm at least going to try to remember the earliest to the best of my ability.
i want to say it was when i was attacked by a dog when i was maybe 3 or 4. we had this german shepard mix that was kind of a dickhead, but me being the strange "i can't tell if someone or something hates me" little kid i was, i still tried to pet and cuddle him. according to my dad, i pulled his tail. according to my mom, i laid my head down on his side while he was laying down. i honestly don't remember who is right, i just remember teeth and lots of blood, my dad grabbing up the dog by its neck and everyone screaming. i remember my dad and the dog disappeared while my mom was trying to scoop me up and get me in the car, and i remember hearing a *pop* sound from the woods as we drove away to the hospital.
at the hospital, i remember not really understanding what was going on. retrospectively that was probably for the best. then i was on a table, strapped to some kind of board. i don't really know if that part is true, but i remember the big-ass surgery light and people with masks over my face and chest, then everything slowly fading away.
i woke up and my mom was next to me. at some point a doctor came in to talk to us and he brought me a banana popsicle. to this day i still love those damn things, and i hate bananas. i'm pretty sure we went home soon after, my face and chest all stitched up. when we got home, i remember calling for the dog to tell him it was okay and that i forgave him, but he didn't come. i searched the whole house and didn't see him. i went out back and he wasn't there. finally i asked my dad where skipper was, and this is when i learned about what death was. my dad took the dog out into the woods and shot him so he wouldn't hurt anybody else. i remember not really being affected by it, i don't know if it was because i didn't really understand or if i was just like "oh, well, that's what dad says, so i guess that's it."
looking back that's pretty fucking morbid, but there it is...