This past June my family and I had to let go of our beloved 11-year-old yellow lab, Jasmine. I left for work that morning, saying a quick goodbye to my dog and ran out the door. After work I had to go to a court hearing to fix a speeding ticket I received from that previous April. My mom came with me and all was fine and well; until we got into the car afterward. It was a dark day out, and it was raining. My mom sat in the driver's seat, let out a deep breath, and said, "we have to put Jasmine down," and then burst into tears. I looked blankly out the front window, not understanding. "What? Why? What do you mean? What happened?" All of my thoughts rushed to my head at once.
My mom then went on to tell me that she took our dog to the vet, to which he told her our dog was bleeding out from her spleen and didn't have much time left. We rushed back to the vet from the courthouse, and I walked into the examination room, I knew. There was my dog, lying on the vet's table, a tube in her front leg, with barely any life in her. She was still alive, but I could see it in her eyes that it was time for her to go. She didn't wag her tail, her ears didn't perk up when she saw me, there was nothing but emptiness.
My older brother insisted that we go to the emergency vet in the next town over because he NEEDED to know if she couldn't be saved, but I knew right then and there that she couldn't be. To my protest, we decided to bring her there. On the way over I sat in the back seat with her, stroking her face and realizing those were the last moments I would have with my best friend. We brought her in, and the emergency veterinarian said the words that I knew he would say: "there's no hope." He brought us into the back, and if you've ever seen Marley & Me, this moment was like that. My family stood over our dog while they euthanized her, and I watched the life drain from her eyes. My dog was gone.
A pet does nothing but love you. They're not in your life to argue with you, break your heart, or hurt you; they're on this earth to love you unconditionally. They know when you're sad and they're there to comfort you. When they see that you're happy, their tail wags and they kill you with kisses because they love to see you smile. The connection between a pet and its owner is one like no other. Your pet doesn't even need to talk to you; the silent bond is stronger than any kind of conversation between two people. So when you have this animal that you've grown up with, it's guaranteed that it's nothing but agony when they die.
It's been a tough road ever since we lost Jasmine; our house isn't a home without her. I look at her dog bed and the spot on the stairs where she used to look out the window and still feel her presence. She was my best friend, and losing your best friend, even when they're a dog, is hard to get over quickly and easily.
Your pet has a piece kept for them in your heart, and when they go, that piece goes along with them. So the question is, how do you cope when your fluffy friend leaves you? If you're a person who's lost a beloved pet like me, this is something you should know: your pet's short life on this earth was filled with nothing but love. They had a beautiful home and family that showered them with affection and praise. They did not see war, hunger, pain, or suffering; your pet's life was wonderful. And you gave that to them.
If you currently have a pet, make sure to treasure your time with them. Their life isn't as long as yours, so make theirs count. Give them treats, scratch their ears, take them on long walks, love them UNCONDITIONALLY. Give them the best life they can have because they will be gone one day.
