The worst funeral I went to was one of my best friends who OD'd on heroin. He had just moved back in town and was looking to get high begore moving in to his half-way house. I got him a few bags and told him straight up that they were tiny and wouldn't do much, but we each did a few and they didn't get us high. He called me up two days later after moving into the half-way house, and he told me he got a job and just got paid, so he was going to grab a few bags for us so his last high could be with me (since the last time we didn't even get high). I new he was using an old needle so I texted him asking if he wanted me to get him a fresh one, and he said it wasn't a big deal. He came by with my bags and had done a half bag shot and was high (he was used to 1 gram shots while on the west coast) and tossed me my two bags. They smelt so strong, and I was so high off of one it was crazy. He left to make it back before curfew, and we smoked a cig out by his car first, and there was this peaceful energy, idk. I knew he had more bags on him, so I watched to make sure that he drove to the main road to head to the house instead of pulling over and getting more high. I called him an hour later (half-way house was 45 mins away) to make sure he got back in OK, and when he didn't answer I knew he was dead. I got a call two days later that he OD'd, but no info other than that (like if he did it before going into the house, or did a shot b4 bed and didn't get up, etc), and when I told my friend that didn't even know him, she said his name without me even saying it, and when I asked he how she knew she said I called her two nights ago saying I thought my friend X died. It just bugged me out that I knew it right away, like we had caught up on everything that night, and so I guess he got to have his last high with me afterall.
Anyway, to get back to the reason of why it was a shitty funeral, yes it sucked because it was a close friend of mine, but the worst part was that I had no idea if his family saw his phone after he died and went through it, which would have texts of me asking about the bags, and if he needed a needle. I spent the whole time there expecting to get slapped across the face by his mom. Also, I had to figure out what to say to anybody that asked me when the last time I saw him was. And then of course there is the tension between the people he got high with, and the people that tried to keep him away from them. The junkie friends say that the other friends abandoned him when he was at his worst, and the other friends say the junkie friends made him that way.
She's so small, that's why I call her a peanut. She likes to be held and snuggled just like a little baby
I've never had a dog before so we're all learning from each other. My boyfriend and I definitely have our hands full with her but it's all good. I hope she has a long and happy life, I think she will, I know we will take good care of her.