Two Years ago · 6:20am Dec 5th, 2012
On this day, two years ago, I lost a friend. Her name was Macey, and she was my puppy.
She was a Border Collie/Great Pyrenees mix, with completely black fur, except a tuft of white on her chest.
At the time she was with me, I was at a low point. I had graduated, but that was a low note as the girl I loved completely shattered my heart. My friends were drifting away, my mother was in poor health, and there were many family issues. I was alone in a full house where noone cared for my turmoil. Then, one day, a friend of the family was giving away puppies. I picked up Macey, and I couldn't put her down. We took her home, and she was immediately part of the family. Getting her seemed to turn everything around.
She was always smart. My mother would have attacks, sometimes even when she slept, and Macey began to recognize their showing signs, to which she would wake up mother. When I would get home from work, she would greet me and immediately brighten my day. She would always come up to me, stand on her hind legs, and give me a hug. She grew to be a big girl. When standing on her hind legs, she would be about 5'6".
But then, two years ago, on this day, she was taken from me.
She was outside, and she had jumped our back fence to play with my brother's dog who had escaped, and they were playing. They got to the front yard, and Macey was barely in the road.
Somebody saw her, who was in the opposite lane. They switched lanes, and sped up. I know, because I saw it happen. You don't drive in the left hand lane...
I had been sleeping not long earlier, and I was in only pajama pants, but at that moment, I didn't care, though. I raced out, barefoot, bare-chested in the cold I hate.
But, I was with her at her last moments.
What made me saddest, though, is that she was only two weeks from having turned a full year old...
Her life was short, but she was memorable. That is why, I decided to give her to my character, so she can at least live on in spirit. I miss her so much some days.
Thank you for your time.
Dude, that hit me. I used to have a chihuahua that helped me get through both my ma's divorces and all the bullshit I went through at school. I fucking hated everybody at that point in my life, I continually wished for something to happen and to take me or everyone else out of this world, and then one day my ma brought home a tiny little dog. I resented her at first, I called her a brat and tried to keep her away from me. One day she got into my room and hid under my bed, she wouldn't let me grab her to put her back in the cage. She ended up spending the night in there and she got to the point where she would hop onto the bed and sleep with me every night. I had spent the weekend at my grandmother's house and had went to the Strawberry festival earlier the day she died. I walked into my room and saw several blood stains on the floor, when I saw her legs sticking out from under the bed I knew something was wrong. After calling her names a few times I grabbed one of her legs, it was ice cold. I helped the man who was my stepfather at the time bury her not even a hour after I had been playing games at that stupid festival. I feel even to this day that if I had just stayed home that weekend I could have saved her. I still cry every time I think of her, she was such a good dog.