I Loved Him Enough To Let Him Go

I'm a crybaby. I cry a lot, I always have, always will. In my mom's home videos of me taking a bath at 3 days old, I am crying. While she's combing my hair, I'm crying, while I'm getting dressed, I'm crying. I gave myself a headache just watching the video. Point is, I'm a crier.

I was born in Los Angeles, California, I lived in South Central, and as a 5 year old, I never felt unsafe or scared. I lived in a world of my own; I had great parents, brothers and a sister, and 4 dogs. One of those dogs was a Rottweiler named King. I remember pretending to go on exotic, exciting adventures, pretending that King was my horse. Of course whenever I was about to sit on his back, he just sat down and I fell over into a fit of giggles. King was my older brother Jerry's dog they were close and I never saw a greater friendship between a boy and his dog.

Then we moved to Arizona, and everything was calm and peaceful. Until tragedy struck our quite lives. It was in the dead of night, I was fast asleep, but I awoke to a shout, Jerry was at my sister, Nena's door, holding something in his arms. I couldn't see it well, I was in at my door, and at only 7 years old, I couldn't very much see what my tall brother was holding. I could see white, a paper towel, but something was wrapped inside it.

"AH!!" my sister screamed. I was confused.

"What is that?" I asked myself.

I would learn soon that it was our beloved cat, Mickey. He had just been attacked by our 2 other dogs, Rocky and Mindy.

Now, I was never that close to Mickey, I'm more of a dog person. My sister on the other hand, was hysterical. While we were on our way to the vet, Nena carried Mickey in his arms, he was meowing in pain. Then he gave one last "meow", as if to say goodbye. Then he was gone.

I had never seen my sister cry like that. I cried a bit too, whenever people are sad, younger kids usually empathize with them, or maybe that's just me.

The next day, Chris and I went to school and came home. We went outside to say Hi to our dogs, but for some reason, only King, and our dachshund Banana, were there. We began to worry, so we called our mom and she said she would explain when she got home. A grueling half an hour passed while we waited to find out what happened to our dogs. My mom finally came home and we attacked her with the question.

"Where are Rocky and Mindy?!" we screamed.

"I'm sorry guys, but, I had to take them to the pound. I can't live with the 2 dogs that murdered my cat" she said. I felt a pang in my heart and I ran outside. King was lying down, looking sad. I swear he was crying. Somehow he knew his sister was never coming back. I sat down next to him and hugged him.

"It's going to be okay" I whispered.

Years later, we would get new additions to our family. This included 2 cats, Ozzy and Hector, a guinea pig, a turtle, a hamster, 2 cockatiels and Bella, the crazy, rambunctious mutt. Sadly, Chill the guinea pig didn't make it, and Ozzy is still MIA, but Biggie the Hamster, Yoda the Turtle and The Most Annoying Birds in the world still remain.  King had gotten older and these past few days, had not been well.

He has sores on his arms, and was always tired. He only sometimes walked, to move to another place to nap. One day, after a long day with my parents at work, we got home at 9. We started out routine, eating, and then going to our rooms to rest and watch TV. My mom stayed downstairs. I was in my room, watching a movie and I went downstairs.

"Angie, I think King might be dying" my eyes turned to the size of Frisbees.

I ran outside, and there he was. Lying down, his eyes were blood-red, his breathing was scary, and it was raspy and way too quick. I tried to give him water, nothing. He didn't drink it. His tongue hung out, and he looked at me. I felt like crying. Eventually the pain of seeing him this way made me cry anyway. My mother and I poured water over his back, in case he was hot, and we sat by him. 

I called Nena, told her that King was dying and she rushed home. We carried him to the car to take him to the vet. The whole time I was the one who was hysterical. I was sobbing horribly. Then the strangest thing happened. I started breathing, just like him was, and then I started feeling really tired, just wanting to go to sleep. I am certain I had empathized with my dog. I cried even harder. 

At the vet, they told us he was in a lot of pain. My mother decided to put him down.  My throat ached, my stomach felt like a bottomless pit as they brought him into the room we were waiting in, on a doggie stretcher. They placed him on a table, my brother, Chris began to cry. He almost never cries. King was asleep, but he opened his eyes and he gave us all a look that said “Thank you, it’s going to be okay, now I can sleep and be in peace, thank you”

Then the doctor gave King his shot. Before he was completely gone, I managed to choke out the words: 

"I love you King" 

 Then he was gone. 

My dad took me to the car and I cried. Cried, and cried. Well, more like sobbing and screaming at the same time. The next day, I was with my mom eating lunch, and she told me how King came to be in our family. 

My dad worked in Huntington Park, and one day he was driving, and he saw these Rottweiler puppies and he knew he wanted one. He went home and told my mom, and then everyone (I wasn't born yet) got into the car and went to go meet the puppies. There were only 3 pups left, and the women selling the dogs said they had to be sold in a couple. My dad immediately chose Mindy, but Jerry chose King. King was lying down, napping. They took the dog’s home and Jerry made them a little box to sleep in. He took care of them, was always there. 

Now, my heart breaks, thinking about my dog. Then it repairs itself, thinking about how much fun he's having up there, maybe he's playing with Mikey, or maybe Mindy and Rocky are up there, all I know is he's alright. Jesus is taking care of him. Boy is he lucky. I'm not talking about King, I'm talking about Jesus. 

Life is a lot like a spider web. It gets built, and it’s the most beautiful, pure thing in the world. Then somehow, it gets destroyed, by a person or possibly wind. But then, the spider comes along and creates a new one. It is as beautiful as the one before it. I like to think that it will be that way with King, his spider-web lasted long, and now it has been swept away by the wind.

One day, it will be re-built, and he’ll be back, as beautiful as ever.

Just like a spider-web.