My family, my friends, my teachers. All people I important within my life. My family will always care for me. My friends will always watch my back and support me. My teachers help me strive towards my education. These people have successfully advanced me through the past eighteen years and very thankful; however, the most significant “person” in my life is a dog.

Lucky, a ninety pound black German Sheppard, grew up with me and we became best friends. We had a relationship where we would do everything together. We jumped on the trampoline, took long walks through Millenium Park, and I usually convinced my mom to allow Lucky to take car rides with us. At night, Lucky had a specific chair in my room which she would always sleep on. I would sit on the floor next to her pink chair and talk with her; sometimes crying, laughing, and even praying. She would gaze at me with her dark brown eyes, her eyebrows moving up and down as if she knew what’s being said. Although she’s a dog, Lucky knew my emotions. As Lucky grew older, I stopped paying as much attention to her because my teenage years became entertaining and hanging out with humans was much more “in.” Before I knew it she was really not doing well. Her back legs were began giving out so she could hardly walk and she needed help standing up. I began to start talking to Lucky at night again. Those talks were never cheerful ones; instead full of tears and prayers. I wanted nothing more than keeping my best friend around so I begged God to heal her legs and back. Every night I went through the same ritual until I left for my freshman year at Culver. Then I was gone. I saw Lucky five more times on the various breaks throughout the year. Each time her condition seemed worse and it broke my heart to see my best friend go through pain. Several times my parents asked if we should put her down and every time I would not allow it because I was not ready to let her go. In early April of 2007, I received a phone call from my mom telling me Lucky was not doing well and the end was coming soon. I broke down crying for hours that night. I did not know what else to do. Finally, over Parents Weekend my dad informed me that Lucky had passed on and although at the time I seemed alright, a part of me died day.
It is strange to think a dog had an impact on my life; however, she did. Lucky taught me silence is sometimes the best way to be a friend and she helped me become comfortable expressing my feelings to those around me. Back in middle school, like most people, I went through an awkward stage where I was unsure of my friends, my appearance, and my intelligence. She was the one person who would not ditch me for a boy. She was the one person who would not judge me on how pretty I looked. She was the one person who did not care how smart or stupid I really was. I know is true because she was a dog; however, she was still there when I needed her most. Lucky would listen to any and everything I had to say; things I could not tell my friends or family.
I had accepted Lucky’s death; however, after writing this paper and experiencing the emotions all over again, I have not quite been able to. I have had plenty of animals, yet none of them have left such an imprint on me. Lucky meant the world to me and because her loyalty as my best friend and the lessons she taught me, my dog to be the most important person in my life.