My Golden Retriever: Cassie.

I lost Cassie when I was about 8. My parents had gotten Cassie, before I had been born. Which could have been a humongous problem. You hear on the news about small children, babies, getting killed or harmed in some form or another, by the 'family dog'. 

However lucky for me, Cassie liked me. My parents said it was because I'm an 'old soul' and so I knew what to do- (like when I was born I didn't cry because I had already gone through it sometimes previously).  To this day, small children and animals like me- I don't know why. Apparently I give off a good vibe... according to my friend Katie.

I used to love being with Cassie. Just stroking her, and cuddling her. When I was smaller, when she lay down on her side, I would put my head on the side of her stomach like a pillow, and just fall asleep. She was a very calm and well behaved dog. I don't think my parents knew, but I used to tell Cassie all my secrets...

Everything that happened. When I got detentions for standing up to the school bully (She hit me, so I punched her back) I told Cassie exactly what I thought. And she just put her head on my lap and listened. If I felt sad she would tell, and come to me, and nudge me, and with her big round eyes, pretty much say: "Hey- whats up? Want to talk to me about it?" 

On the day of her death, I had woken up late, to the sounds of my sister sobbing downstairs. I went downstairs, curious to what was going on. Everyone was surrounding Cassie. My Parents eyes were both red and puffy, but were doing their best not to cry. I demanded to know what was wrong.

They told me, Cassie couldn't walk anymore. She had arthritis in her back legs. She wouldn't be able to go for walks, to get her own food and water, or do anything. She was in pain and she had to go. I didn't want her to. I got angry with my parents and ran back upstairs. Then it hit me. I started crying, and before long we were at the vets, my dad had had to carry Cassie to the car, and out of the car, because of her legs...

When the vet said he was going to do it, I remember that I got up, and ran out of the room. My Mum and sister following me. Ever since that moment I had been slightly more angry about small things, because I didn't have my best friend to talk to things about it. I have to keep everything bottled up. I couldn't believe it had happened.

And it didn't help that the next day at school, the children made fun of me for crying over my dead animal-best friend . I still cry about it sometimes, wishing that she could come back, so I could hug her one last time...

DanielxKatie DanielxKatie
13-15, F
1 Response Mar 8, 2009

i had the same feeling. i still keep pictures of long-dead dogs. :)