Saying Goodbye

You don't know me. I'm not surprised. I tend to stay out of the light as best as I can without causing any drama, because drama seems to be something that follows a person no matter what. My name is Kari. I'm a 16-year-old girl, born and raised in Phoenix, Arizona.

I grew up relatively lonely; not many friends. Being alone in a big crowd was something that was not new to me. All my life I'd wanted a dog. I asked my mom for years about getting a dog, begging, pleading. Finally, eighth grade, after my guinea pig passed, she approved me getting a dog.

I don't remember the day fully, but I do remember the emotions. We had gotten to the pound and, of course, all the "new" and "shiny" puppies were at the front, whereas the older ones were in the back, shunned. We obviously picked the older dogs. They had more of a story to them. We had gone to one pound beforehand, but had no luck in finding one, which was a blessing in disguise.

I remember we were walking by her kennel, when my mom called me over and said that "this one is following you." I went over to her and, by golly, she was my baby. I had always heard from moms that, when you give birth, it's a love like no other. I'm not a mom with children, obviously, although I am a dog mom. The pound kept warning us that there were things wrong with her—teeth infections, physical problems, etc. We didn't care. She was the one.

We came home, and I was nervous but driven by how much I loved her already. Our three dogs we had had since they were puppies didn't take to her very well. A lot of fights broke out over a good three to four days. They eventually quieted down and got accustomed to her, not really taking to her well yet. We were going through names when my grandma mentioned that her deceased husbands' favorite flower was a Daisy, so I thought to name her Daisy in memory of him.

Over the course of having her, I learned so much about myself and her. I learned her favorite food was eggs—she went NUTS for them, loved them so much. She also enjoyed cold fries, and eventually, when her teeth weren't hurting her as much, ice. I learned that she "hopped" when she got excited (I nicknamed her Thumper) and would constantly wag her tail at me. There was life in her eyes. I learned patience. Which is something that I was never good at.

I learned to take care of someone else other than me. I learned to be more open-minded. She taught me so much in the course of four years. She would always be so excited to hop up the stairs to go to bed, always be first at the door to go downstairs in the morning. I also got to know that she enjoyed barking...a lot. She barked at my mom and I when she was hungry, had to potty, wanted to play. I also learned that she loved sniffing around. She would circle the same area no matter how many times she'd already sniffed it.

I found out she loved people and other dogs. She got so excited around other dogs and would wag her tail so hard, especially around people—she loved attention. She also loved walks! Her eyes would shine so much and she had so much pep in her step when we took walks. She was energetic in the way that I needed her to be. She was also very keen to sleep directly in the middle of my bed, which would annoy me constantly.

About a week ago, around February fourth, she started...acting differently. She started not eating as much...not barking at us to eat or to go out...she wouldn't even eat eggs. We didn't really notice it until she started getting really skinny. She would eat when we fed her tins of Caesar food, so we had a little hope. Then she started to get really off balance, got confused easily on where she was, would stand in a spot for a long period of time.

She was pooping or throwing up anything we gave her. We even tried chicken and rice, THE go-to for dogs with something physical going on. She still got it out of her system. So we figured out that it was her time. After four long years of barking, sniffing, eating, and hopping, we decided that she just..couldn't do it anymore. Now, officially, February eighth, 2018, we are putting her down. I cannot describe how much my mom and I have cried the past almost week.

She was my emotional support for my breakup with my ex, with my breakup with my ex-best friends. She has always been there when I got home from school, and I cannot describe how much this is going to hurt. It is going to hurt so much more than I thought stubbing your toe would. It hurts physically and mentally. I have not eaten or drank nearly as much as I used to, and I have cried more than there is water in me.

She has been holding on for the past few days and I cannot describe how proud of her I am for that. Today I am saying goodbye to my princess. To the one that helped my depression when I didn't think it was possible, to help me heal my emotional wounds when I thought they were still bleeding. I know she is going to watch over my family and I, up in heaven with my papa and other papa. She is going to be so excited.

Words cannot express how sad and disheartened I am. I know she is going to be waiting for me to join her in the future, and I know she is going to have that sparkle again. I cannot wait to hear her bark, see her wag, and be at peace finally, after a long battle of vet checks, grooming, and baths. I want her to know that I love her dearly, and she is going to be so missed. Heaven is gaining an angel, but I am losing my princess at the same time. Keep my baby safe until I can come, papa. She deserves it.