...the worst day of my life. It was the horrificly momentous occasion in which I lost my best buddy, my dog Lucky. She was more than a dog to me though. She was my friend and companion.
I got her, well, to be honest I kind of stole her from my sister and niece, about nine years ago. During that time, I was extremely depressed and I latched onto her quickly because I felt that she brought happiness into my life when I thought I couldn't feel it.
She stayed with me through all my darkness, my immobile moments in my bed and my unwillingness to move on, so I have been questioning if she had a good life or not. I believe she did because she wanted to be there with me. She had a choice to jump off my bed but she didn't. I believe the reason she was brought into my life was to help me, to be there for me and to love me. And she did all that plus more!
I was with her, along with my friend Karina, in the room when she passed. As my and Lucky's forehead were touching, her nose pressed up against mine, she took her last breath that I felt on my neck. That undeniable feeling that I wanted her to either stay or I go along with her eclipsed my mind entirely. When I pulled my head away, my tears spilled onto her nose. That silly part comforts me in the fact that a part of me, even as minute as a teardrop, was with her until the end.
I question whether or not I will be able to handle such a loss, but I will try my hardest. Not only for me, but for her. She worked too damn hard to get me better for me to just throw it all away. It will be hard and it will be tear-filled, but out of respect for her I will do it.
And to those out there that think "It's just a pet", you can go fuck yourselves! Lucky was more than that and I hope she knows the magnitude that she has touched my life, my heart and my soul.
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