My dog is gonna die

‎My dog is going to die, and my parents aren't going to do anything about it because they're poor and stingy. The worst part is that she can be saved and live a full life again, but even if they now have the They don't have enough money, they won't do it, because they're not going to spend money on a 'cause that might not be worth it', they're not going to do anything about it, the truth is they never fully did. They are completely resigned, and I hate that, I hate their hypocrisy. 

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‎She never lived the life she deserved, not even in her final moments, thanks to them, but she will always deny it. She lived in the yard, tied to a bar so she couldn't escape, with A makeshift doghouse, a complete dump, a simple table with some ceramics and a sheet that wasn't even a bed, just something to cover the table, sleeping every day for more than 10 years on top of ceramics that were cold, hot, or stained with their own urine, Always scratching at the door to get us to let her in on the hottest days. Tied to that post while it spun endlessly on days of unbearable sun, burning her skin, Hoping that by turning the rope so many times it would come undone and escape to freedom, sometimes I wonder if he ever knew that would never work, but he longed for it so much that he broke the rope and hurt his neck once.

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‎And the few times she manages to escape, and my parents just let her, always saying that "she'll come back," it was always the same, and if I looked for her, I was exaggerating, I was exaggerating because Defending her, for complaining about her condition, even though I wasn't really doing anything, but what could a 3-8 year old girl do? How could I help? Sleeping every single day in a Miserable corner, always waking up in the same hell, forever staring at the same four corners, which I couldn't even reach, in a filthy yard where we abandon the garbage And the leftovers, all she had were the leftovers, her house, her food was what we left behind, even the little affection that was given to her, was always leftovers. 

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‎Always waiting patiently every time we got home, hoping we'd remember her, even if we didn't, and if I begged her to stay inside, if my sister did, We always got the same response, "Then why don't you go to bed with her?" "Then why don't you eat the same crap as her?" "What do you want us to do?" They always offered us the option of being in their place, of putting ourselves in their shoes, because we had nothing else to do, what more could we do? Even so, it's still my fault too, it's still t's fault of allá of us.

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‎I’ve watched Some of our cats die due to that same negligence on my parents' part, because, of course, providing food, shelter, and so on counts as "taking good care" of them, while they They mock me sarcastically for taking care of aspects of their care that I don't handle, and that I can't, they mock me as if I really could, as if it were my fault. They make fun of me like to handle things for the animals as if I had the knowledge, money, and responsibility to do so. But I can’t make excuses for myself, either; it’s my fault too, and I hate it. There’s nothing I can do; I can’t report it, because they’re the ones who look after me, and honestly, I don’t want to live with anyone else. I know that, around here, that might mean a death sentence or perhaps I’ve just been manipulated enough to think so.

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‎She got abused for more than 5 years by my father, because of his outbursts of anger, for being "too rebellious", always justifying everything they did, everything they said, everything they excused themselves for, I hate them sometimes, I really hate them.

‎Until one day it just "stopped" right in front of our eyes, but when no one was looking, he was still kicking her, hitting her, and I don't know what else. And I don't know how many times he's done it out of my sight, and even if he did it right in front of me, I wouldn't be able to do anything because I'm just a "worryer." 

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‎Always blaming her, always blaming someone else, and then, when she dies, my mom will feel sorry for herself, she'll say it's her fault and that she acted too late, then she'll look for another dog And he will replace her, she will unconsciously look for things they have in common, and more than once he will call her by her name, and she will cry for what she didn't do now; for now, she will simply say that he doesn't have solution. Every time I beg them, they sarcastically ask for the money to save the dog, and I'll just keep complaining while I see more animals get lost no matter how much they love them. 

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‎And I'll keep complaining, powerless to do anything, because I can't bite the hand that feeds me. I can't do anything against them. They'll humiliate me, and it won't have any impact; it will only make things worse.

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‎My dog is 12, at 10 years old they let her live inside the house, years old now, and all they'll say is that she's old, that we can't do anything anymore, that it's too much trouble to save her, that the medications are too expensive, I'm being exaggerated and playing the victim; maybe they will take her to the doctor, maybe they won't. 

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‎Nobody in this house deserves to cry for her. 

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‎Me neither. 

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