Good day to all! Last time I told you a little something about the city of Novi Sad, my family, and my friends. Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot and came to the conclusion that I should speed up my story just a bit. Not because I want to rush it or wrap it up, but because I want to share some of the most important and unforgettable moments with you.
Summer 2023. My birthday. My very first one. I wasn’t even aware of what was going on, but let me tell you what my mom did. First, she cleaned the entire apartment until it was absolutely spotless. Then she went shopping and bought me a bunch of delicious food. After that, she decorated the whole flat with balloons and banners. I had candles, fireworks, and a cake made of dog food (of course, not chocolate). I got so many presents—tons of toys, food, and even clothes. My mom invited my grandparents, Mimy, and Oliver to my party. So many people gathered just to celebrate me. It was amazing. Oh, and the theme was baby blue. Blue plates, blue napkins, blue hats for everyone.
Later that year, in October, my mom started acting a bit strange. Distant. Sad. She was still showering me with love and treating me like her little prince, but I could feel something wasn’t right. In November, I stayed at my grandparents’ house. I thought it would be just a day or two, but then it turned into a week… then a month… and even longer. I couldn’t see Lea. I had no idea what was happening.
One day, my grandma took me to Lea’s place, and I saw her briefly through the window. She was so happy to see me, but at the same time she was crying. I was over the moon—I pulled so hard on the leash, trying to run up the stairs—but grandma said, not yet.
Everyone was acting strange, but they were all doing the best they could for each other—and for me, of course. After a few months, I finally got to see, kiss, and hug my mama Lea again. She was smiling, but she couldn’t stop crying. She kept repeating, I missed you so much. I love you the most. I’m so sorry we had to be apart, but now we’re together again.
My mom Lea had a tumor. A big one. She couldn’t see me for months because she had surgery and needed time to recover—physically and mentally. She went through horror, pain, and unimaginable stress, but she kept thinking about me, and that gave her strength. Then I remembered those nights when my grandma was on the phone with Lea, and Lea was crying, asking over and over again: Where is Ozzy? How is he? Is he okay? I miss him. I want to see him. My mom later told me it was like that every single day. Thinking of me and wanting to recover as fast as possible—just for me.
By January 2024, she seemed okay. We were finally together again. She started working from home at a new job and spent all her time with me. Everything was good for a month or two… and then we both hit a wall.
My allergies flared up. I couldn’t stop scratching, and sometimes I even vomited from licking my paws. At the same time, my mom mentally broke down. She was scared for her health and mine, annoyed by idiots from work, overwhelmed, and exhausted. I think she just wanted a normal life again, but it all hit her like a bomb, and she cracked under the pressure. And honestly, I don’t blame her. I understand her.
She had help—from her parents, friends, and her boyfriend—but I know my mama. She wants to be strong on her own, without relying on anyone. This time, though, she really needed help. And thankfully, she got it.
From that moment on, she started taking medication, and every few months she had to visit the doctor and talk about her feelings and everything she was going through. I was with her every single day. By my second birthday, she felt a bit better—but I didn’t. Once again, she threw me an awesome big party with decorations, a cake, and all that jazz, but at that point my ears were insanely itchy.
Throughout the year, my mom took me to the vet over and over again. She visited so many different vets because, as she said, I’m not leaving until you make him better. It was time for serious analysis—blood tests and much more. The vet checked me from head to toe and found nothing. My mom was relieved, but still frustrated. She wanted the absolute best for me.
During that year, I wore a cone around my head for what felt like forever. I went through countless tests, anesthesia, a special diet, medications, ear drops—you name it. Not all at once, of course, but over time. I had bad days, but I also had plenty of good ones. And my mom took incredible care of me. Just like I took care of her.
Slowly, we both started to heal. We felt better. We truly believed that good days were finally ahead of us. That we would be okay. As long as we were together, happiness would find us again. And it did.
This chapter was a bit hard for me to talk about, but at the same time, it feels lighter once everything is out. I hope no one got too sad reading this. It was a tough period for all of us. But we are fighters. We are strong. And we are moving forward. Day by day, it gets better.
If you liked this part of our story, please stay tuned for more. Thank you so much for your attention. Byeee! 🐾
