PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I was with him in his last moments. I knew he would have wanted it that way. As the shot went further into his leg, his breath began to get short and quick. Desperately, he tried to get some air. Suddenly, he stopped. His breath had gone. He no longer felt any pain or struggle. Yet still, I held onto his lifeless body, crying my pain and prayers to him.



To some it would be something unimaginable. To some, it would be the end of life. To some, it would be the death of a part of them. To me, it was everything. Tahnee was the best friend I ever had. He was the only one that was always there when I needed him. All of a sudden, he wasn’t around for me anymore. I felt like I had no one to turn to.



Tahnee was my dog, my true companion. He was my lifelong friend and now he’s gone. When he died, I felt my entire world crumble. I always had him to lean on when I could talk to no one else. He would never argue with me. He would never be angry with me. He never told me I was wrong. Unconditional love is what we had. He needed me as much as I needed him.



Who was I to talk to when I was alone? Who was I to go to when I was scared? He had always been there for me. He protected and reassured me when I was unsure.



I remember him sheltering me from an attack. When I was eleven, a neighbor’s dog escaped from their yard. This dog was known to be vicious—part wolf, part pit bull, and part Doberman. The dog rushed up to where I was playing basketball. He was violently barking and growling at me. His teeth were visible and I was scared. Luckily, I had Tahnee outside playing with me. He ran in front of me to fend off the intruder. I was grateful that the other dog didn’t attack. Tahnee barked and the escapee fled. As far as I can see, Tahnee saved my life. I don’t know what could have happened if I was alone.



One day when I was practicing my soccer, I accidentally kicked the ball into Tahnee’s kennel. I ran to retrieve my ball. As soon as the door opened, he shot out. He bolted down the driveway. I watched in horror as he ran directing in front of a car. When it hit him, he rolled a few times and lay on the pavement. I didn’t know what to do; I was worried about what might happen to him. My buddy was lying on the pavement, breathing, but motionless. I called my parents and they hurried home. We got him into the car and rushed to the vet’s office.



Tahnee was checked out okay. The veterinarian said he would have bruising and be in minimal pain. She said he was lucky to have had some excess fat on him—it saved his life. After his accident, I felt incredibly guilty. I made it my goal to forever take care of him. He was always there for me. In turn, I wanted to always be with him when he needed me.



On September 12, 2002, we got word of Tahnee’s deteriorating health. He seemed perfectly fine but we found out he had cancer. It was in his lungs, stomach, throat, and heart. I felt it in my heart too. It sank in deep. I couldn’t believe it. He was dying. This dog had survived things, but I knew he couldn’t survive this.



On the morning of September 20, 2002, we went to his cage to check on him; he was barely breathing. We tried to get him to stand up. He just couldn’t. He had nothing left, no more energy.



I remember that day as if it were yesterday. We finally carried him into the car. On the drive to the veterinarian, there was one song on the radio. Never again have I been able to listen to, “Don’t Know Why” by Norah Jones. Every time I hear it now, it reminds me of his death.



He was given two months to live. He didn’t last two weeks. Tahnee, my beloved best friend had passed on. He couldn’t make it. Our veterinarian said that he was the type of dog that would never show his pain. He was so strong and he did it for us. He never wanted to let us know he was suffering.



When he died, I was devastated. I cried for days. For a while after his death, I was weak. Some of what I was feeling was because he died in my arms. It was powerful. It was something that makes you think.



A couple weeks prior to it all, he was alive. He was not just alive, he was living. You could never have guessed he would soon be gone.



I feel as though our lives as humans on this earth are the same way. We live, but we never think about the future. We don’t think about ourselves dying suddenly. It could be tomorrow but we won’t know, until tomorrow comes. I hope that tomorrow doesn’t come too soon. His death made me realize how quickly life can be snatched away.



He was my friend. So as a friend, he was a part of me. When he died, a part of me died along with him. I’ll never be the same as I was when he was with me. But I’m stronger because of him. And, I am grateful for all he did for me. His death led me to realize how precious life truly is. If it’s not completely recognized, it could pass us by. Tomorrow someone may go to your funeral, without having had the chance to know who you really were. Life is valuable. Discover it, and treasure it.