I believe that pets can be a part of the family, and my dog Fuffy was a part of mine. She was a Golden Labrador Retriever that was about a year old when we found her on the street filled with fleas and without a collar, and my parents said that I named her. I don’t remember that event because I was only about two years old, so it felt like she had always been there throughout my life.
I remember always being scared of dogs, but Fuffy was a dog that I loved being around because she was friendly and quiet. She did hate the men who check the water meter because they sprayed her eyes once and she never forgot that incident, but she would never chase the mailman.
The worst experience in her life was when she was getting older. She started growing a cyst on her side, so eventually we took her to the veterinarian, who conducted tests to find out that she had cancer. The cyst on her side grew enormously, and the doctor said it couldn’t be removed because it was already too close to her lungs. Because of that, she was constantly breathing heavily, and she would also choke when drinking water. The veterinarian also said that she only had about two months left, but she lasted over six, so we got to spend our last Christmas with her.
Fuffy followed my dad everywhere around the house and outside, sometimes wanting to go for car rides when he was leaving. She would wait for him by the window or cry when he wasn’t home on time from work. Eventually, she had trouble getting up and was going a bit deaf, but she would still try to follow him. During the summer of 2006, I was home alone with her, and I had to help her whenever she wanted to lie somewhere else. She weighed over sixty pounds, and would cry as I tried to help her up. I’m sure you wouldn’t want to see your pet or someone you love suffer. I hated to hear her whimper all the time because I felt horrible for her.
Toward the end of the summer, we were going to Pennsylvania, and my dad decided it was time to put Fuffy to sleep because she was in agony, and we knew she would probably not be there when we got back. Fuffy was about fourteen years old when she died in July of 2006, and we all cried for her. It was especially hard on my dad because Fuffy had always been right there beside him. Have you ever lost a pet that was family to you or your only friend? Practically all our relatives had met or heard about her before because they knew she was very important to us. We considered her as part of the immediate family, people I’ve known all my life, which is why I always thought of her as my sister.
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