When I was still in high school, the best thing that happened was when my best friend and I got puppies. We had talked about it for months, behind our parents’ backs of course. We would go to the animal shelter almost every day to look around, to try and find the perfect puppies. One day my little brother called me and told me that his dog had puppies. It could not have been better timing. They were Labrador Retriever and Blue Heeler mixes. They were solid black and perfect. Two months went by and we were finally able to pick the puppies we wanted to take home. My mother was easy to convince. I came home with the little squirming fur ball in my arms, and she fell in love. My friend’s parents on the other hand were not so easy to convince. My friend tried asking before we went to pick them up, but they said no. So we went with plan B. She kept her puppy at my house for a couple of days, hoping that her parents would forget what she had asked, then she went home with the puppy and used the “I found it in the street” story. Although they resisted at first, they finally gave in. For the next three years they would never leave our side.
Zoe, my dog, grew to be a smart, energetic, tennis ball obsessed dog. She was incredibly smart and she always wanted to be by my side. She grew to look like a Lab, but was the size of a Blue Heeler. She was solid black and had floppy ears. For me, she was the perfect dog. My friend’s dog, Sage was a little shyer, but smart all the same. She was a bit smaller, had a slight curly tail and somewhat erect ears. Sage was a little more difficult to train, but my friend was able to teach her amazing tricks. Sage was as attached to my friend as much as Zoe was attached to me. From the minute we got them home, we started training them. After having them for only a few weeks they knew a list of commands and were potty trained in no time. The latter made it that much easier for our parents to fall in love with them. Every day after school, we would rush home, get the dogs and meet at the park where we played with them all day. On the days that they had a little more pent up energy, we would put their harnesses on and have them pull us on roller blades. It was so much fun for us, and it really wore them out. As they got a little bit older, I started staying at my friend’s house over the weekends with Zoe. We would take them to the lake, go on walks for hours, or lay out by the pool all day. As time went on, the dogs became less than pets, and more like our best friends. We did not leave them at home unless we had to. Going on a car ride was one of their favorite things to do, so we couldn’t deprive them! They were part of the family. Growing up I had dogs and cats, but I never had a relationship with an animal like I did with Zoe.
After graduating high school, everything changed. My friend’s aunt lives in Kentucky and she invited us to come and live with her family, and the dogs were invited too! They live on 50 acres outside of Murray, Kentucky on a dirt road, so the dogs would be able to run freely without fear of them getting into trouble or getting hurt. It was August when we moved, so we spent much time with the dogs, playing fetch and exploring the outdoors. Moving from Las Vegas to Murray, KY was a big change for them. The weather is more humid and uncomfortable, fleas and ticks bit and scratched at them, and there were more wild animals that posed harm, but they could not have been happier. I think most dogs would prefer the country life to the city life any day. The only downfall to this new living arrangement was that the dogs were not allowed in the house; they had to stay in the garage at night. This was a major adjustment for us, especially the dogs, because most nights they would sleep in bed with us. But I think having the run of the land was almost an equal trade, so they didn’t put up too much of a fight.
One night after arriving home from work, I let the dogs out of the garage to use the bathroom. While they were out running around, I went inside and joined my friend and her aunt at the kitchen table. While engaged in conversation, we noticed Zoe sitting outside of the kitchen door. I remember her staring intently at me, almost with a serious expression. Usually she is the one that runs off a little too far to get into trouble, so it was odd that she was sitting there, but I ignored this and we tried to get her to do tricks by giving her commands through the glass door, but she remained still. After a few minutes, my friend opened the door and called for Sage, but she did not come. So she grabbed her car keys, and Zoe and I jumped in the car with her. As we turned right on the dirt road, we found her, lying on her side, not moving. My friend screamed and ran to her. I just sat there, shocked, not knowing what to do. My friend picked Sage up, sobbing loudly, and carried her to moist soft grass. Zoe was whimpering, running from the spot that Sage was found in the road, to where she lay in the grass, just as confused and dazed as I felt. After coming to my senses, I ran inside to get help, not saying much, tears flowing from my eyes. Sage was buried that night. A best friend, a part of the family, was lost that night. I will never know what my friend felt that night, but the magnitude of loss and sadness filtered through us all that night, and for many nights to come. After Sage’s death, Zoe was not the same. She grieved for a long time, and was never truly herself again. For the twenty-four years that I have been alive, I have never experienced a family member’s death, so Sage was the first. Experiencing that lose made me appreciate life a little more, and helped me to understand how important family is, even if that family member is just a dog.
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