Katy Dog passed away on November 11th, 2010. She was the only dog I ever had and was 16 1/2 years of age. She’d been in my life, and the life of my family, since I was six-years-old and now that she’s gone – it wont be the same. This week has been rough and it’s weird that I’m this upset about losing a pet. However, she wasn’t just a pet – she had become a part of our family. During high school and middle school, I would make sure to rub her stomach every morning. When I was in elementary school, we would always throw a big orange bat around the yard for her to chase – she would go nuts. She was always the dog that the neighborhood fell in love with and the one that friends couldn’t help but stop and smile at. Now, we wont be able to hear the noise of her collar when she enters a room or her annoying whine when she was begging for food. We wont be able to complain of her smell or the fact that she had grown so old that she couldn’t see or hear us. None the less – she’s gone and it’s as if a family member has passed yet again.
I don’t understand death and don’t think I ever will. Ever since my brother passed away, I still haven’t been able to truly cope with the idea of him being gone. I still wait to wake up and get a goofy text message from him or call him in the late of the night, complaining about something. I look up at the stars waiting to see his face or hear his laugh in the wind during the day. Even though it’s unfair to ask why death happens to the best of us, we can’t help but still ask the question. I know I can’t ask why I had cancer and why my brother passed from it. I can’t ask why my parents got divorced and why I reacted so negatively during those years. I still ask why my campers have passed away due to such a terrible illness and why I never had the chance to call my brother back two years ago on my 20th birthday.
Asking why is the hardest thing not to do, but something we all must learn to try.