When I was young I loved my dog; she was the most perfect animal in the whole world. As many little kids do, I became attached to her so much. I expected to see her when I came home from school and I expected to give her some food and water at night She had mostly black fur and some white fur on here chest. She was small and skinny. She was overall the type of animal that no one could imagine. She had all of the qualities that people want in an animal but never seem to get. She meant a lot to the whole family and it was not only me who fell in love with this brilliant dog but it was everyone else.
She was there from the first day that I was born, licking my face and playing with me always. But as all living things do my dog got old and with age comes death. She was a fighter though and all of my family new that she would not go down easy. As days went by she ate much less and became much weaker. The everyday activities were much less than they used to be and she even stopped running with my dad. The once high spirits of a wonder dog were now much less than anyone had ever seen. My family knew that something was wrong but we all just hoped that my dog would snap out of it and become normal once again. As days past my dog did not change and my parents insisted that we talk here to the vet. My dog had been taken to the vet many times before and not a single worry was in my mind because she had always come back to her home.
So that day I went to school thinking about my dog and feeling good that she was getting help. When I finally did get home, I saw my dog laying on her bed looking more comfortable than ever. I walked in the door and expected her to spring on me like she always did. I waited for a moment but nothing happened. My brother and I stood still and waited in anticipation of her jumping up on us. Once again, nothing happened. Then in walked my dad. As my brother and I stood there in front of my dog with amazed faces on, my dad explained to us what had happened at the vet. He began by stating that my dog was in bad shape. He then went on to say that she was getting very old and with every day that comes she was suffering more and more. It was not at all easy for him to say to us two little kids. But my brother and I sat there and listened, as our hearts only became heavier. My dad continued by say that the reason why my dog does not eat is because she no longer had the energy to. She would never be the animal that she once was. He ended his little speech by saying that she was going to be put to sleep on the grounds that she would die natural in about a week or so. The vet and my father decided not to make my dog suffer but rather to let her fall asleep with no pain at all. I stood there and my eyes filled up with tears.
That was the last night that I would ever spend with my dog. The next morning I woke up and my mother told my brother and me that it was going to be the last time that I saw my dog. I came down stairs and hugged and kissed her, she licked me back and had here usual happy face on. As I did so I remembered all of the good and bad times we shared. I remembered when she almost drowned but my dad saved her from going under. I remembered the time that she slept in my bed when no one else knew. I took some of her fur and then gave her one last hug. As we drove away in the car that morning I cried, and my dog sat on the porch and watched. When I came home that afternoon she was not there to greet me for the first time in as long as I could remember. My dad took my brother, my mom and I all onto a couch and began talking. He said that the vet had put her to sleep and that we were not going to see her again but she was happy. I understood what he was saying and at that moment all of my family began to cry. My dad went on to say that he was there when the doctor put her to rest, and as her eyes shut she licked my father's hand. I missed her already and at that moment in time I hated the vet. It made me very angry inside, he was the bad guy and I would never forget what he did. As years went by my dog was still in my memory everyday. She never did come running up to me licking my face again but I certainly did think about it. This part of my life was where I learned a valuable lesson about life and death. I would never see my dog again and that was hard to sink in. I really did not like the vet that did this to her but I understood what had happened and how she was more peaceful now that ever and in reality, the vet really helped her. I also have learned to understand that I might see her once again in heaven, but if I do not my heart will always be with her. I loved my dog and memories are one thing that never can die.
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