I remember the day like it was yesterday. Dec. 25, 2004. My brother and I ran down the steps to see what Santa had brought us. We were overwhelmed with wrapped toys under the tree and the jolly spirit that filled the air. Once we finally had a second to take in everything in, my father had run downstairs to grab something. Next thing we know, this fireball of energy runs over to us in a giant red bow, excited to be meeting her new family. That was the day I met my best friend Casey.
From that day forward, she was just another member of our family. She was the best dog I ever could've asked for. She was the kindest, most gentle dog I've ever met. Loved by everyone, not once had anyone had a problem with her.
She was a funny dog though, almost human-like. She would never come in the house if it was raining until her paws were wiped because she knew that it was bad for her to leave paw prints. Casey would never leave the property either, she was scared to leave the front lawn. She was most loyal to my mother, followed her everywhere, even to the bathroom! Casey never really felt like a dog, but more like a best friend. She was always there to lick away my tears or be my giant furry pillow. I could never imagine a life without her.
April 23, 2016. It felt like a nightmare. My father walked into my room around two in the morning and said ,"Ashley, Casey is dead." My heart clenched. I wanted to scream but my throat was closed shut. I heard my mother screaming from her bedroom and I raced out of bed to find a limp animal next to the bed. My heart scattered into pieces. How could this happen? She was such a healthy dog, sure she was 12 years old, but nothing seemed remotely wrong with her. All I remember is kissing her and watching my father take her lifeless body downstairs.
Later that morning it was raining, how ironic. I remember the ride to the crematory was a long quiet one, all I could hear was the silent patter of rain hitting the windows on the car. I felt that my life was dull and empty. Seeing Casey's body hidden under a blanket on a cart made me sick, she shouldn't have been there. I kissed her on last time and told her to "be good" and "wait for me in heaven" as I watched her get rolled into another room. That would be the last time I ever saw her.
I don't know how long it was until I could finally say her name, let alone tell this story, but it took awhile. I'm grateful for all the people in my life who helped me cope with it, even if they couldn't exactly understand what I went through. For awhile I felt like it was my fault. What if I had let her outside before I left that day? Or, what if I just decided to stay home instead of going out? Over time I finally was able to recognize that it was her time to go, I just wished I had more time with her.
Even nowadays it's hard to not have her in my life, I'm probably crying just typing this story. Some days are worse than others. I get the most horrible dé·jà vu on days I come home from work, I'll slip off my shoes after an exhausting night and I'm expecting to see that golden face light up when I step into the room, but I'm always greeted by an empty basement. And some days I swear I hear her moving along the hallway outside my bedroom door, but it's just my imagination. I just have to remind myself that she's in a better place and that she represented the best 12 years of my life. She will never be forgotten.
I love you Casey.
