We got Rocky when he was 4 years old from a man who no longer wanted him. He was overweight, not fixed, and didn't know sit from stay. I was 8 years old and had been begging my parents for a dog for months and months. One day, my mom came home from work with a 'beautiful' dog; she said we were going to be dog sitting for a week for a man from work. I was thrilled. Dog sitting? Its the next best thing to actually owning a dog! BUT, after a week, I was in love with a big black dog, and my parents agreed to adopt him. Over the period of 8 years, Rocky ran 100's of miles with my mother and spent countless of hours with me (as an 8 year old) learning tricks and agility, and teaching me important life lessons such as patience and determination. We moved from Florida to New Hampshire 5 year ago when I was 11 and he was 7. He was getting up their in age for a purebred lab, but he proceeded to be part of 2 school talent shows, learn how to pull a sled, and he finally caught a squirrel. But then, this year he had a seizure... it scared the hell out of me and i thought that that was it for my beloved friend. In a way i was relieved; he lived a good, long life and died naturally... what more could one ask? But, he actually didn't die. He pulled through. He survived. He developed a bad limp and was slowly losing the ability to control his bowels. He forgot where his water bowl was and panted constantly from trouble breathing. It started late may. I thought that it was just a phase, I was in denial. Then, my mom and dad talked to me about the pets they lost and how Rocky wasn't feeling as well as he used to. So we set a date. Today at 9:20. My mom told me, "you don't have to go". But what was I going to do? Rocky had been my best friend for 8 years and always been there for me. And then when he needed me the most I was just going to leave him and let him go alone? No. I was going. When we got to the animal hospital, my mom and I started the water works. They led us to a back room, and left us alone for 5 minutes. It felt like forever. A doctor and nurse came in and settled Rocky on the ground. Rocky calmly laid there as they gave him his first injection. 15 seconds and he was limp, but alive. I sat down on the floor next to him and pet his back as they gave him the final dose. My friend of 8 years passed away under my loving hand. Right before his last breath he gave a little yelp/gasp... I told him it was okay. And he was gone. The doctor and nurse left my mom, Rocky, and I alone as we said our goodbyes. I hope I did what was best for my Rocky Roo. I love him so much, and i would hate to think I made the wrong choice. The pain I feel in my heart is as if someone broke it into a million pieces and it is trying to get itself back together. But then someone will say something, just as i am feeling better, and my heart shatters again and is forced to start mending all over again. I don't know how long it will take, and I don't know if i will ever be able to love anyone/thing as much as I loved Rocky.
May he rest in peace, my best friend in the world.
