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My dog ate styrofoam.
I was standing in my kitchen and I heard my dog cough and cough, like a very large, very angry cat. I then heard the sound of a crunch as if I had stepped on a piece of styrofoam and this caused me to run upstairs and check on my dog who was lying on the floor in her downstairs bedroom where she sleeps. She is a dog, not an English Queen. This was a good thing for us.
She had indeed chewed on something I had told her she shouldn’t do and the styrofoam caused her distress and she had coughed up what she had accidentally swallowed. My next thought was to look for something to wash my dog in. I had a little jug of clean water in my kitchen and I took that with me to my bedroom where I found one of those little cloth doggy diapers my mother used to use to keep my sisters clean when they were babies and not my dog. The doggy diaper is not for cleaning. It is for protecting an otherwise clean animal from the effects of the elements or from having their business accidentally on display.
I washed my dog in the jug of water and while she was soaking, I went downstairs and found styrofoam. I picked it up in my bare hands and dropped it. The piece I found was almost the size of a human head. I ran upstairs and found the styrofoam was in the garbage and went down and rinsed my hands in a sink full of water. I knew I would need to clean my hands with soap before I came back down and checked on my dog.
In the bathroom, I found that it was so full of styrofoam that I could not step into the tub without first removing the styrofoam that surrounded the tub like a bowl. In the sink, there was enough of this styrofoam to fill the drain pipe to the point where I had to turn the sink off before I could flush.
I opened the medicine cabinet in the bathroom and took the bottle of liquid detergent and poured it into the sink. The detergent went down the drain and I felt very ashamed. I washed my hands in the sink.
I went into my bedroom and picked up a clean hand towel. I found it under the bed and brought it downstairs. I had not yet begun to clean my dog and all I had was my clean towel.
In my kitchen, there was enough styrofoam to make a mountain. This was in the garbage can. I picked up a handful of styrofoam and carried it out to the front yard. I started digging a hole in the backyard and kept digging as deep as I could without being hurt. I poured the styrofoam into the hole.
The styrofoam melted and it turned to slush. I covered the hole with grass. I did this again and again until I knew that this would be the final time that I would use the yard as a landfill for my garbage. I covered the hole with a tarp.
That evening I called the police. I asked them to come out and seal my yard so that the styrofoam would not wash away and so that it would not be a threat to the safety of those who passed. I gave them a name and a phone number. I asked them to come after dark and to call me first.
I called the police again. I told them what had happened. They said that they would put in an order to have the styrofoam removed. I left my house and went to my friend’s. I could not stand to be at home alone and I did not know what to do. I kept looking for help.
When I arrived at my friend’s house, she and I decided to start a conversation. This was all that we could do because we were just too scared to think or to do anything else. I did not know what to say and she did not know what to say.
It took the police three days to remove the styrofoam. They came at dark and they sealed off the area with garbage bags. I sat at my friend’s house in the dark until the garbage bags were gone.
That night my friend and I called a suicide hotline. We waited for a counselor to come to our home. After talking to the counselor, we decided that we could not face our problems alone. We decided that we needed to get help for our problems. We did not know how to get help.
We sat in silence at the top of the stairs until the counselor came to talk to us. We tried to explain what had happened to us. The counselor had to leave because my home phone was ringing off the hook and we could not handle it.
That night I cried myself to sleep and I cried myself awake. The counselor came back the next day and she was able to help us make a plan for getting help. We called our parents and they came to help us get through the problem.
In the meantime, I was living in fear and I was in pain. I was scared and I was in pain. I was in a lot of pain.
When the police finally decided to take me to the hospital I was taken by ambulance because I did not want to walk or drive. The whole time I kept thinking, “Why is this happening to me? Why is this happening to me?”
The hospital had a psychiatrist on staff and I needed to see one. The hospital did not have a psychiatrist on staff. We could not get a appointment until Monday.
On Monday I waited until the psychiatrist opened up. I sat in the waiting room and I just cried. I wanted to talk to somebody but I did not know where to go. I did not know who to talk to. I did not want to talk to my parents. I could not talk to my boyfriend. I did not want to talk to my mother.
Then my boyfriend arrived and that was all the stress I needed. It was him that was taking care of me and not me taking care of him. We ended up talking. I could have talked to him all night, but he had to go to his parents and get permission to see me. He came back and told me that he would come back to see me.
When he came back to see me I told him I was afraid. I told him that I was afraid that I would be sent to a hospital. He said that I would not be. He told me that they can give me medication if I needed it. He told me that he would not let them put me in the hospital.
The next day when my mother got to the hospital she told them what I needed. She had them put me on the meds that I needed.
Thank you and if you need me to be involved in anything for you, give me a call. I really do want to help.