My best friend
By Annie Petersen
Hey there buddy, how ya feelin?
Buddy is my first, best friend. I've been with him since literally, birth. So when my dad sat me down and said "things aren't looking good for buddy." I couldn't hear the rest. I knew he was getting old and I knew that he was having seizures and that he would get those sores on him as every other old dog does. I couldn't handle hearing that. My dogs aren't allowed upstairs at all, you see, they have very small bladders. But at the moment I didn't care, I grabbed my dog charley, and ran up to my room. I just needed to be alone with a dog. Poor charley being plucked from his sleep to go upstairs and be held tightly by his crying owner. He must've hated me then. But he knew I needed him and he didn't move or struggle or nip or growl at me. He just let me hold him.
Skipping dinner, going for depression.
"Things aren't looking good for Buddy."
The girls cried the whole way back. They pulled into the driveway, opened the door and were hesitant to step out, as if they didn't want to face it. I didn't blame them. Buddy happily trotted up to them, the food was gone and buddy was grinning.
Going through life now is a roller coaster. I don't actually believe that buddy's getting older. He can't go to the vet because he'd have another seizure and he wouldn't make the ride. It's really upsetting but I've known to go any chance I get and when I do, I spend the whole time laying with him under the tree he always lays under. This expirance has taught me to be grateful for the time that I have with everyone, because it may be the last time I see them.