Anyone who knows me knows that my dog, Cami is my whole heart. She's spoiled rotten and basically my entire world. I love the little booger more than anything else on the planet. Ugh. She's so precious.
Meet Cami. She likes to cuddle blankets.
So, story time. About how my crazy-ass roommates dog-napped this innocent little baby.
But first, you need some backstory.
Cami and I moved into an off-campus apartment last August with three other girls from my hometown. We had all moved to Orlando the year before to attend the same college. I had previously lived in a dorm with one of the roommates (we'll call her Jennifer, she's important later on in our story) while the other two roommates lived together in a dorm in the same housing community. It seemed like a good idea for us all to get an apartment together the following school year to avoid living with random roommates.
But boy, was that the worst decision ever.
I guess these girls had the notion that all of us living together would more or less be like the show, "Friends." Meaning, movie nights three nights a week, taco Tuesdays, and clubbing on the weekends. Which is fun and cool, but I never had that kind of time to spend with them. They went to school during the day and spent time together at night, while I worked nights and slept during the day. And the free time I did have, I spent studying or taking Cami to the dog park.
Fast forward, and I've dropped out of school after my college screwed up my financial aid. I was now working full-time to pay off the tuition the school claimed I owed them, while also paying $662+ in rent plus all my other bills (car payment, car insurance, tolls, gas, phone bill, and food/living expenses. I am a self-sufficient, financially-independent woman!). I hardly saw my roommates, who didn't have to work, and my boyfriend stayed the night frequently so that we'd actually get to see each other (we also worked together, so it was easy to ride home together, crash, and then go to work together the next day).
But this was apparently a huge damper to my roommate's lifestyle. A typical roommate argument over group-text ensued.
Their main issue was that my boyfriend stayed over almost every night and I hadn't asked permission for him too. Which is totally a valid issue, I absolutely admit. But when he was over, he was always conscious and considerate of the shared space and kept quietly in my room, so I didn't think very much of him being there. Plus it was my room, my space, and I paid a lot of money to live there.
But this, apparently, wasn't good enough for them. An immature, illiterate argument broke out. My three roommates teaming up together against myself. Their concerns being communicated through insults and slander. With some of the most hurtful, vile, and profane comments I've ever read. Attacking my character, attacking my boyfriend, and so much worse. They were horrible.
They decided they wanted to have a house meeting that night. The thought of it made me sick with anxiety. I knew it wouldn't be a mature conversation, so I told them I wouldn't be talking that night-- that I wouldn't be home until late and a conversation wouldn't be productive while we were all upset. I told them we could all have a discussion the next afternoon.
But when I got home that night, Cami was nowhere to be found.
Like any pup, she's usually there to greet me at the door. It was 1:15 am. Late.
Down the hall, I could see the light on in Jennifer's room. Along with music and muffled conversation. All three of them were shut in there-- I could only assume they had Cami in there too. So I texted Jennifer:
"Do you mind letting Cami out of the room so I can take her out?" (to potty.)
This girl no joke replies,
"You can come ask face to face."
At this point, I am absolutely livid. I remind Jennifer that Cami is my dog, my property, and my Emotional Support Animal (I later learned that withholding an ESA is a violation of the Fair Housing Act and hella illegal, just FYI).
Jennifer texts, "Get in my room."
I reiterate that I have had a long day and won't be discussing anything tonight. But Jennifer keeps pushing. I try a different tactic.
"She hasn't had dinner yet."
"Then come get her."
"You're not going to bully me into it. I said no."
"Who is bullying?"
"You're literally holding my dog hostage. You are."
"If you even cared about your dog or even friendship, which I learned a long time ago that you don't, you'd walk in. I won't make you talk but at least have the courage to see me face to face."
She was crazy. And manipulative, and controlling. So I call my mom bawling.
She agreed that I shouldn't let them manipulate me into doing what they want. Mom (who's a 911 dispatcher) instead tells me to call the cops. I'm exhausted from the day's events and just want to go to bed. Not deal with police. (But now, as I'm writing this, both me and my boyfriend agree that we totally should have.) I tell Mom that calling the cops would only make things worse, and they might not even do anything (I've also learned that they totally would have done something.) As an alternative to law enforcement, Mom reminds me that my dog is a whiner-- the whiniest little dog ever-- and that she'll soon whine to go potty or whine for food, and that I should just wait it out.
And wait it out I do.
Twenty minutes later I hear scratches at my door and open it to the greeting of the wiggliest little pup.
Simultaneously, my phone dings with a message,
"Because we care if she eats."
So to the literal dog-nappers who held my dog hostage, I hope you all look back and realize just how insane and immature you were. I hope you learned that you can't manipulate and bully people into getting your way. I hope you realize that this is literally the textbook definition of emotional abuse.
We, as humans, don't deserve dogs, but you three especially don't.
Oh, and I hope the roommate who took over my lease is ten-times "worse" than I ever was.