Wednesday, December 12: “My very first dog is still alive. She’s 20 years old, ad she’s acted like a puppy, until about 3 years ago. She has still managed to have the attitude of a puppy, even today. Her name is Sadie. She protected me, when I was getting abused, which led her to also get abused. When I would runaway from home, she would always go with me. She used to jump the electric fence, just to sit on the front porch, to let us know that she wanted to come inside. When I was 16 years old, a custody battle took place. My mother dropped Sadie off, at my grandma’s, then kidnap her to get me to visit. During the battle, my grandma and I fought for Sadie to live with me, because we made each other happy. We made each other feel safe. Sadie has guarded me with her life, since day one. Even my grandmother. Home was wherever I was with her. Tonight, my grandmother called me saying Sadie needs to be out down. She’s my little girl. We will always have that place house. These are tears of a different kind.”
Today, I walked into my grandmothers house, to find Sadie no where insight. She put my dog down, without telling me. If that isn’t cold hearted, then I don’t know what is. Farewell to the best companion, the only companion, that I’ve ever had.