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The End of Life Is Always Hard

As children, we don't think about death. We simply do not worry that someday all of us are going to die. Now, I'm not meaning to start this off so negatively, but... I'm kind of down today. I remember when we brought Cocoa (my 12 year old Weimeraner baby) home from Manchester, TN. She was a rotund little puppy with clear blue eyes and a smile that made your heart melt. Sure, she got sick in the car because she was unused to the sensation of being in a moving vehicle, but hell... Even her vomit was cute. She has, since that day, been my baby. My buddy through thick and thin. She's probably been one of the only things in my life that has been there for me no matter what to give me a kiss on the face with her big, sloppy tongue.

I know that most kids say that middle school was hell for them, but I can honestly say that middle school was hell for me. And I'm not even being emo about it. The sad part is that the majority of it was my fault. It was still hell, though. From lying to backstabbing, cheating to suicide attempts, middle school was definitely trying. I almost didn't make it through. I wouldn't have had it not been for Cocoa. She didn't judge me. No matter what I did, she forgave me and loved me regardless. People should be like that. But I digress. Here begins my little sob story. Life was, according to me, nearing a drawn-out and painful death, and I planned on finishing it before it got me. So I took one of my mom's steak knives and traipsed on up to my bathroom. I sat on the toilet (How very Elvis of me.) and envisioned how the blade would cut open my wrists, how the blood would pour from my veins... Just when I was about to go through with it, I noticed that the door to my bathroom had been pushed open. You see, my bathroom door had suffered many beatings from my sister and I when we were little, and the door no longer closes properly (Talk about primo privacy, right??). At first, I panicked, because I thought it was my mom, dad, or sister. Thankfully, though, it was just good old Cocoa coming to say hi. She wagged her tail and smiled at me (Yes, dogs do smile.), and I broke. It was one of the most important moments in my life, and Cocoa was the catalyst in that event. I don't even want to think about what might have happened had she not walked through the door. For that, I owe Cocoa my life.

Now onto my main point. You see how attatched I am to this dog. She is not only my pet but my friend, my very own little baby. We've had scares where we've thought we'd have to put her to sleep before, but this time... This time it's serious. She's a big dog, and Weimeraner's have a tendency for rheumatoid arthritis... She's just old, you know? She also has tumors all over her body (I call her Lumpikins the Brave.), which kind of adds a little character to her. You couldn't miss her in a crowd of Weimeraners. She's beautiful. But as I said, she's old. Her hips have been giving out on her for the past couple of years, and yesterday, something happened that all of us missed. Somehow or another, she either fell or did something to her right hind leg, and now she limps everywhere she goes. She can't even make it up our stairs, so we have to carry her up. It kills me.

I've cried every time we've talked about putting Cocoa down, and this time was no different. You'd think that after multiple euthenasia scares I'd have cried all I could cry. Definitely not. Even typing this I get a little emotional. Some of you may say, "It's just a dog." No. Cocoa is not "just a dog." She is a part of my family. Losing her will be like losing a best friend, like losing a sister. A part of me will go missing, and it will never return.

I was at Cracker Barrell today with my mom, dad, Mam-maw (dad's mom), uncle (dad's brother), and aunt, and mom and Mam-maw and mom were talking about how we were probably going to put Cocoa to sleep. At first, I was fine. I had even thought about it earlier today while carrying Cocoa up the stairs.

We'll probably be putting her to sleep within the next week or so. I don't want her to be put down at the vet, though. I want her to be put to sleep in our house. She hates the vet. It scares her, and I don't want her to be scared when she dies. That would break my heart.

I wish I could just return to that little girl state where everything lives forever and unicorns really do exist.



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