One year ago, my best friend and sister died. She'd been battling with osteoperosis, liver failure, kidney failure and an over-production of mucous in her lungs and nasal cavity for several years. She was the sweetest girl in the world: she was never aggressive, and all she ever wanted to do was to spend time with me. She was in pain and she was suffering constantly. It was cruel of us to keep her alive and on so much medication for so long, but we loved her.
My sister was an American red-nose pit bull terrier - a canine. She was special to me, and nobody understood at the time why I grieved so intensely for a non-human animal. She was my everything. She never judged me, she never snarled at me, she was always there for me. She broke all of the stereotypes about pit bulls. She was in pain, she suffered. We couldn't pay for the surgery to fix the osteoperosis which ate away at her hip, so we had her on a constant string of pills which made her organs slowly fail. We were cruel, but we couldn't stop ourselves from it - we needed to keep her alive. We needed her.
I'm glad that God took her away, and I praise him regularly for taking her from us. She died peacefully on the vet's table. She was looking up at me, sadly wagging her tail, and then her eyes glazed over. I know that she's at peace now. I know that she's happy, up in a kennel somewhere in heaven, waiting for me to be there with her again. I know that she doesn't hurt any more, and I know that up in heaven, nobody is judging her because of her breed.
Not long ago, the tree we have her body buried under began to flower. It's a beautiful Crepe Myrtle.
Praise God.
My sister was an American red-nose pit bull terrier - a canine. She was special to me, and nobody understood at the time why I grieved so intensely for a non-human animal. She was my everything. She never judged me, she never snarled at me, she was always there for me. She broke all of the stereotypes about pit bulls. She was in pain, she suffered. We couldn't pay for the surgery to fix the osteoperosis which ate away at her hip, so we had her on a constant string of pills which made her organs slowly fail. We were cruel, but we couldn't stop ourselves from it - we needed to keep her alive. We needed her.
I'm glad that God took her away, and I praise him regularly for taking her from us. She died peacefully on the vet's table. She was looking up at me, sadly wagging her tail, and then her eyes glazed over. I know that she's at peace now. I know that she's happy, up in a kennel somewhere in heaven, waiting for me to be there with her again. I know that she doesn't hurt any more, and I know that up in heaven, nobody is judging her because of her breed.
Not long ago, the tree we have her body buried under began to flower. It's a beautiful Crepe Myrtle.
Praise God.
