Precious: 1994-2008

7:45 a.m.-- "Hey, Precious isn't doing well. I think we're going to have to take her..."

7:50 a.m. -- What do you wear to put your dog to sleep? Do you wear something bright and cheerful, for her, or something dark, to show your grief? There I was, staring at the pile of clothes on my bed for a good five minutes. 

It started snowing as we were walking into the vet's. She really loves snow. It stopped once we were inside, which seems fitting.

It was so hard to sit with her while they did it, while she was staring at us, needing us. And when her heart stopped beating I couldn't help but think she was going to stand up, walk out with us, jump in the car, be youthful again.

I just wish there was something we could have done. I don't understand death. How do you just -- stop? How are you just not there anymore? I don't understand the soul, nor the brain, nor the brain/soul. I wish they could just take whatever it is that makes you you and implant it in another, healthy, body. I suppose that's what ghosts are, essentially. Or, you know, ethereally. 

There was a beautiful, white Persian cat on the mat when we walked out of that room. I like to think he was an angel cat. Although I don't really believe in angels or anything, I do believe in signs and symbolism.

One time, my mom took her to Hanging Rock. Precious ran alongside my mom while she rode her bike. Apparently, she rode a good five miles and forgot Precie was running with her. When they came home, Precious hopped up on the couch and there she stayed for a good three days.

Also, one time they were hiking and she came upon a bee hive. She soon discovered her mouth wasn't the best place for a bee hive, and ran all the way back to the car.

She always hopped in the bath tub when it was thundering.

When I was little, I would give her a bit of my laundry to carry back to the washer. She'd hold it in her mouth, and I think she probably thought she'd get to bury it outside. I'd wrench it from her mouth and we'd go back for another load. 

God. That dog has been my best friend for 14 years. I don't know what I'll do the next time I come home and she's not sitting at the door, looking outside.