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The Day My Puppy Died — My Biggest Regret

Reliving this was not easy, but this story had to be told. I owe it to my baby girl.

By Miss KaliPublished 6 years ago 6 min read
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I remember it like it was yesterday, rather than many years ago.

My puppy I refer to her as a puppy, because she was only five years old had been acting strange. I don't remember how it all happened, I just remember her laying on my bed, not moving. We all thought she was sick and that, if we gave her a few days, she'd be back to her energetic, fun-loving self again.

But we were wrong.

She only got worse from there. My bed became her safe spot and I was forced to sleep at the foot of the bed. I didn't mind, I just wanted her to get better. But she never did. She stopped eating and drinking. I remember my sister having to dip her hand in cold water, bringing it up to her mouth, and letting her lick the liquid off. We all took turns doing that, just so she'd stay hydrated.

I don't even remember how she was able to go to the bathroom. She barely did, I guess. A few times my dad had to help her up and bring her over to the newspaper on the floor so she could go. But even those few steps out of my bedroom were too much for her.

Luckily, my bed was on the ground at the time, so she didn't need to jump down, but it was still hard for her and my heart broke with each agonizing step she took. But each time she did manage it, I was so proud. I thought maybe if she kept walking, she'd get better.

But I was wrong.

After the third or fourth day, my mum decided that we needed to take her to the vet. So, she called my cousin and we all picked her up carefully (she was a very big, heavy puppy) and placed her in the backseat. My mum and cousin went to the vet, leaving the rest of us behind to wonder what was going on.

My mother came back alone, my dog had to stay the night at the vet, because they had no idea what was wrong with her. That was strange to me. How could they not know? This was their job, wasn't it?

Each night, I kept imagining her coming home. I'd wake up the next morning and she'd be strutting in, looking healthy and happy. But that wasn't the case. Each day was just another disappointment.

She had spent an entire week at the vet while they poked around, trying to figure out what was wrong with her. No one there could figure it out. Eventually, they wanted to try surgery. I was all for it, anything to make her better, but sadly, money wasn't an option. They were already charging us so much each day just to keep her there.

They said we only had one other option. We had to put her down.

Even writing out those words has me tearing up. Nobody wants to hear that the reason their dog has to die was because of money problems.

No one had visited her, except my mum, but the night that they were going to put her down, my cousin drove my family to see her one last time.

It was heartbreaking. She was laying there in a kennel, the door opened so we could pet her and hug her and tell her that everything was going to be alright, even though I knew she knew we were lying. I could see it in her eyes. She was hooked up to something that was feeding her water, and she had a bowl of food that hadn't been touched sitting in the corner. It wasn't a bad set up for her; there was room for her to lay down and move when she needed. But she didn't belong in a cage. She belonged at home with me. With us.

I remember a glimmer of hope coming from all of us. The second she saw us walk through the door of the vet, she got so happy that she tried to stand up on her own. And she almost did.

I will never forget that heartbreaking day. I don't think I've ever cried that much in my life. I'm not one to cry in front of people and I was trying really hard to keep it together for my sister and my mum. But two minutes in and I lost it. I was going to lose my baby girl and there was nothing that I could of done to save her.

We hugged her, and kissed her, and hugged her some more. She deserved all of it.

She might not have been the nicest dog to other people, but to the people she did know, and to her own family, she was a sweetheart. She'd sit for hours while you had your arm around her and wouldn't stir one bit. She'd give kisses each time you came home and would even jump and knock you down, just because she was excited to see you. She truly was the greatest dog I've ever had.

My family agreed that we thought there was more that the vet could of done, but they seemed like they just wanted to get all of this over with and kill our dog. Something about all of it just seemed fishy to us. But how were we to go about that? They were the professionals. They were supposed to know better. But deep down, we all had that same feeling.

Once we all said our goodbyes, it was time to put her down. My mind got so fuzzy and rattled and I was so depressed that it didn't occur to me that they offered us a chance to hold her while they did it. We all scurried out of there as fast as we could, because we didn't want to see her in pain, we didn't want to see her dead.

Forever, that will be the biggest regret of my life. If I could do it over again, I would be there with her. I would hold her until she was up in doggy heaven. No matter how much it hurt, she needed us there with her and we abandoned her and it was the worst thing I have ever done. I know that I am going to have to live with that choice for the rest of my life.

The next few days were a blur. I just remember crying a lot. I had to excuse myself so many times, because I didn't want my family to see how upset I was, even though we were all hurting. But I wanted to be brave for them. I wasn't.

My mum told me a few days later that they asked if we wanted to have her cremated and keep her ashes. We did. We still have it sitting on our fireplace. Even now, I'll go up to the urn and tell my baby girl how much I love and miss her and how she was the best dog ever. I like to pretend she's watching over me, her tail wagging each time I talk to her.

Luckily for us, my cousin said that she'd pay the thousand dollars it cost to do the cremation and we'd pay her back. This was four years ago. We're still paying her back.

But she was finally home.

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About the Creator

Miss Kali

Just a girl writing about her experiences and opinions.

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