On Wednesday morning, I awoke to my mom opening our garage door and saying my dog's name, "Dixie..." I knew that once she knocked on my door that I knew what happened. Dixie was dead. The day before we noticed she was acting strange and looked very depressed. That morning was maybe one of the longest mornings I've ever experienced. Dixie was a Yellow Labrador and she was one of my childhood friends. She was over 13 years old, I believe. I saw her stone dead on the garage floor and her eyes were still opened. I knew what I had to do and that was to bury my own dog.
My mom was inside when I went outside to begin my task at digging the hole for my beloved dog. But before then, I just looked at my dog and I started crying. I couldn't believe it. She was really dead. It's so weird, but I don't know how to talk to a person about my dog dying. Like what do I say? I needed someone but didn't know how to even start. As I was crying and staring at my dog, my mom opened the door and I ran as fast as I could to the pond where I would dig the hole at. I didn't want her to see me the way I was.
So I began digging a hole beside Ssadie's grave (my other dog) and I wasn't really tearing up. My mom was taking it really hard and she was more broken than me. She began helping me dig the hole and after awhile of working the hole was pretty much ready. Here came the hardest part. I got the wheelbarrow and brought it to the garage. We propped Dixie in there and at that moment, I started really tearing up. Here was my dog. I just couldn't believe it. The tread to the burial site seemed depressing with each step and I couldn't bare the thought of losing one of my best friends.
This right here is what sent me and my mom over the edge. As soon as we put my dog in the hole, I had to push her legs into the hole and I got a good look at her. I saw her face and before anything could be done, I pushed my face into my arm and began breaking down. I was shaking and crying unbearably. My mom and I broke down at the same exact moment and for what seemed like forever, we just sat there and cried. My mom kept saying, "Dixie.....Dixie......No......Oh Dixie......" The hopeless moaning and the countless sobbing was the only sound that could be heard. Even as I type this now, there are tears rolling down my face because I see this moment in my head and how I looked at my dog and nothing but tears of love and pain fell into the grave. I love you Dixie. It takes a lot of courage and love to bury your own dog. I love you, you old fat short lazy marshmallow.
Even now as I eat breakfast, I look out my porch window and imagine your smiling face. I could knock on the door and you would smile and wag your tail. You would always sneeze and smile whenever we said your name and played with you. I remember how you would sit on your butt because you were so fat. I just remember how much fun we had as kids and I'll never forget you best friend. I have pictures of you now and sometimes I wish you were back at home. With you missing, the picture doesn't seem complete. Emily, Granyte, and Zoie are all in the garage and you're not there. I wish I had played with you more and I wish I had done more for you as your days were growing close. But you're in a better place now. In dog heaven and I hope you're having a lot of fun. You loved me and everyone else unconditionally and I know that even though you can't speak, I could see it in your smile and in your eyes that you were a part of the family and more. You are truly a man's best friend.
R.I.P Dixie
