About 2 months before I was born, my parents got a puppy. He was a black lab named bear. When I was born, Bear and I connected immediately. He would always lay beside my crib at night, and sit by the tub when my parents would bathe me. Once I started crawling, Bear would be right on my heels, making sure I wouldn't get hurt.
As I grew up, Bear became my best friend. I didn't have any friends growing up because I was a Christian. I would get beat up every day pretty much and when I came home Bear was there at the door wagging his tail. We would spend every hour we could together. When my brother was born, Bear didn't want anything to do with him... He was my dog I guess, and he made that very clear.
Time went on, and as I got older, so did Bear. On my tenth birthday, bear became very sick. It was right in the middle of my party, my dad came inside with Bear in his arms and said, "Steph (my mom) can you take these kids home, and meet me and Marshall at the vet?"
I looked at Bear, very confused. He was foaming at the mouth, and breathing really weird. Of course I know now that he was having serious convulsions. Wow even thinking about it now shakes me up... sorry... anyways, I ran to the front door and put on my shoes and my dad and I got in his truck and headed to the pet hospital. I remember looking down at Bear's poor lifeless body as we drove to the vet. He was still breathing, and his eyes looked glazed over and grey.
The vet took him in right away and told my dad and I that we would have to leave him overnight so they could do some x-rays and other tests. I didn't sleep at all that night, I couldn't stop thinking about my buddy.
The next day we went to the vet first thing in the morning. The vet told my parents he had a brain tumor that was causing hemorrhaging and they were going to do their best to save him. A week past and bear wasn't making any progress. The vet said we could take him home for the day, as it would be his last. At the time I didn't know it was his last day. To be honest I thought he was better and he was home to stay. We took him out in the back yard, and I laid there with him on a blanket and talked to him. I remember saying "No matter what happens, I'll always love you..." I was so happy that I was bonding with him again.
The next day was probably one of the worst days of my life. I woke up and went to the kitchen where Bear's bed was... It was empty. I asked my mom where he was and my mom sat me down and told me my dad took him to the vet to have him put down.
I totally broke down... I was a mess, I was confused, I thought he was better. That's why he was home right!?
The next day we had a little funeral service for him in our back yard. We planted a small tree and a bunch of little flowers. Then we buried his favorite bone and spread his ashes.
I laid awake that night... crying. I was heart broken. Absolutely heart broken. I got up to get a cup of water from the kitchen. When I turned on the light I looked over to Bear's old bed... And there he was. Well his spirit anyway. He was holding his bone (the one we had buried) and wagging his tail very happily. He dropped his bone on the floor, it didn't make a sound. He nudged it forward as if to say "Play with me buddy!" I walked over to grab the bone and then he and the bone disappeared. I fell to my knees and broke down hysterically. My parents came rushing into the kitchen to help me up. They let me sleep in their room for the rest of the night.
Every once in a while, it doesn't matter which house I'm living in, I will sometimes see Bear wagging his tail... Just telling me that he's still there and that we'll be reunited again.
Writing this story was really hard for me. It's hard losing a pet... Especially when you become so close.
Until next time... God Bless
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