The Sweet End to My First Dog

I got my pup Harry when I was four years old from a small puppy store down the street from my house. I loved my Harry. He was a Schnoodle (a schnauzer-poodle mix), and he was adorable. I was the one who picked the little peanut out. I fell in love with him and I got my mom to convince everyone else to come look, and then we got him! Harry got his name because at the time Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone had just came out and my cousins and I were in love with it. We would run around riding on our broomsticks and Harry would bite the ends and ride with us. He was such a good boy, he would let you do anything to him. I wanted to be a veterinarian ever since I was a little girl so I would do little check ups on him and he would sit there for me all day. When I was about seven, my mom bought me a bunny for my birthday, and one thing about Harry was he loved to chase bunnies. So let me just say it took a while for him to get used to Lily! But eventually, he didn't even see her as a bunny, she was just Lily. Then, when I was ten we got another dog named Toby, Harry loved him, he had a brother! They grew up together chasing bunnies, jumping into the pool together, and attacking piñatas! Then I moved out of my family home into an apartment with my mom. I visited all the time but my family wouldn't let me take either of them, so I decided to get my own little pup. I named her Dixie after Darryl Dixon and I would bring her over to visit Harry too. When she was a puppy they loved each other but by the time she grew up they grew apart. At this point in the story I'm a junior in high school and Harry is 13 years old. I remember him having hard times, he was diagnosed with diabetes, bladder stones, kidney stones, arthritis, cataracts, and a lot more. He was dying, and I knew it, but I loved him so much. I would visit him every chance I got. One day, I was at school sitting at my lunch table and my mom texted me and said she was there to pick me up and to come up front. I knew something was wrong, and I gathered my books and started walking out. The whole way there I just felt it in my gut, something was really wrong, and once I saw her I knew. I just remember it was like a movie. Me stopping and just starting to cry. She told me to come here and I remember asking if it was Harry, even though I already knew, and she just nodded. I waited in the car for her to get my cousin and we drove to my grandma's house where he was to say goodbye. My aunt had taken him to the vet earlier that day where he gave Harry some meds for the pain and told her that we could bring him home to say goodbye and bring him back later. We sat for hours with him just petting him and crying with him. We told all the great stories we had with him, and after a while, it was time. Now, because I thought I should and I thought I could handle it, I decided to go with him to be put down. I wanted to be with him. I wanted him to know that he was loved and wouldn't be forgotten. My aunt, my grandpa, my mom and I, all drove to the vet with Harry wrapped in a blanket. I don't know if I can say that I recommend going with your family to this kind of thing if you're not ready to see it. I will never forget what his eyes looked like. How full of life they were one second and the next they were so empty. I was crying harder than I ever had. My aunt kept comforting him, crying, but the vet looked up at my grandpa and just nodded his head. But I already knew he was gone. My aunt kept trying to close his eyes but they wouldn't close. We wrapped him back up in the blanket and took him home and buried him. I told our family friends what happened and my cousin posted on Facebook that we lost our furry family member. The next day I went to school and I got half day alright. But then my friend walked in, and I looked at her and I knew she knew and I just started crying and she just hugged me and I realized I wasn't okay. I realized I lost my first dog, my first pet, my first love. I am able to talk about him today, but if I talk about his last day I'll cry, and that's all right. Because dogs aren't just dogs. They are family.