It makes me feel like we take things for granted in life. Since i was born i've had 3 dogs, a bird, a rabbit, and more fish than could probably be counted. At this point, i'm down to 1 dog, a rabbit, and maybe half the fish i had 4 years ago. We don't eat our pets, abuse them, or starve them by any means. However, pets tend to be temporary in the long run of life. They just don't live forever, or nearly as long as humans do. Unless you're like a turtle I guess. Those things can get old.

When i was 6, being 16 now, i lived in some small town in idaho. Not small in terms of a farming town, but small enough to the point where everyone knew each other. This was the pre-rabbit time so we only had a dog, bird, and fish. The bird, Shelby, hated me, so let's forget about her. She was more my mom's bird anyway. Our dog, Max, however was a bit nicer to me. He was a black labrador and loved to run into things.
We lived in a fair house, don't get me wrong it was a nice house, but it wasn't anything breath taking. Simple two story middle class house with a basement. Since max was so energetic, he would love to run up and down our 2 sets of staircases. Sadly this energy was his his greatest flaw. My sisters and i were all younger than 10 years old so our dog was more than family. We would play fetch with him in our front yard, our back yard had a fence and wasn't much of a running around place, and i always remember my dad yelling at us to not let Max run into the road. Being Max was a huge dog, there really wasn't much stopping him from doing whatever he wanted. The strength of all three of us probably wouldn't have been enough to stop him from running off and smelling a mailbox down the road.
It had been the last month before school as i recall, and our mom had picked us up after school as she normally did. We didn't take the bus because we lived outside the school boundary, so the busses didn't go by our house. We had gotten in the car and both my parents were there, which was odd. Usually it was just Mom who picked us up. We didn't leave immediately, instead our Mom had leaned back and told us, "Max was hit by a car while you were all at school." It was obvious she had been crying. Then our dad pitched in, "We were at Walmart and brought him with. I opened the door and he just darted out into the road. The guy didn't have enough to time to stop." He looked down and finished it with, "Max didn't make it." We were all heart broken. Max wasn't that old but he was still our best friend. His love for running just got the best of him.
Fast forward to 2 years ago. I was 14, and we had 2 dogs now. For reference this is post-bird but pre-rabbit. Our dogs were named Abby and Tasha. Abby, our chocolate lab, was as loving as max but not nearly as energetic. We had moved out of Idaho and had now moved into our current home in Wisconsin. Like max, she loved to play fetch, but since we had a pool she quickly found out how refreshing it was to take a refreshing dip after a bit of running. She was a weird dog in the sense that she used the stairs to get in the pool and the ladder to get out. Imagine a fairly large brown dog climbing a ladder out of a inground pool, everyone who saw couldn't help but laugh. Abby, like Max, was more than family to us. We have a bigger back yard now where i could actually play fetch with her on a bigger playing field. I also played baseball when we first moved in so i could practice my batting skills without having to run and grab the ball. Max was a large muscular dog, where Abby was more on the fatter side. So towards her older age she had started to develop an odd way of walking. She had a staggering limp that made her walking and running look goofy. This didn't stop her from climbing the pool ladder but that's besides the point. As in life, Abby only got worse as she grew older. On top of the limping walk she had, Abby also had weird cyst like growths that would often pop, i'll spare you the details as it wasn't the most appetizing of times. There just wasn't any way to help her. We had made a decision as a family to have her put down. She was only in pain every day and just wasn't having a good time getting around in life. I still miss Abby today, as she was closer to me than Max was, but all the same i miss them both. We didn't want to do it but the after so many visits to the vet it was obvious she just couldn't take it. The vets didn't know how to help her and neither did we.
Abby was our first dog in Wisconsin, however we also had another dog as i stated before. Tasha, our only small dog, is a bit lazier than Max and Abby. She was a medium sized white cockapoo. Note how i say "is", there is little death in this story so wipe your tears and carry on. This was maybe 5-6 years ago, a coworker of my dad's had asked around if anyone wanted a dog that she couldn't take care of anymore. He showed us all pictures and we all fell in love with her, my little sister especially. We all went to her house to meet her, and were a bit confused with what we saw. The lady by no means abused her dog, but her methods were a bit odd. Tasha, then named Coco, was a young little puppy who spent her nights and a fair bit of her days sleeping in a kennel. She wasn't aloud out while no one was home or while everyone was sleeping you see. Which is fair i'd say, some dogs are a bit on the wild side. What we thought was weird was how this lady bathed her dog. She used baby wipes, and simply used that to wipe down Tasha. We all fell even more so in love with her and decided we'd take her home with us. The lady offered us the toys and the kennel that tasha had. We took her home, and never touched the kennel after that day. We renamed her Tasha since she still hadn't gotten used to the name Coco, and simply stopped making her sleep in a kennel. Abby and Tasha had no problems with each other, it did become obvious that Tasha was the spoiled child. Abby became indifferent about things as she got older and simply became a pushover, but they played nice so all was good in our family. Tasha quickly picked up a nickname in our house, she was known as kitty and soon began responding to both kitty and Tasha. Like a cat, Tasha enjoyed catching birds and mice and bringing them in the house, as well as chasing around those pet laser lights. Luckily Tasha's story has yet to be finished and the little death it holds is the bountiful dead mice and birds she brings to us.
Dog’s are man’s best friend, so we can just stick to them in this story. It has nothing to do with the fact that fish are boring and the rabbit and bird hated me. Now the point.
Obviously i've gone through my fair share of dogs, but that doesn't affect my life in any way. I remember them, but they are so distant that they just hold minimal place in my mind. Their memory lives through the love i give Tasha now. When she is gone i'll move on and selfishly get another dog to love unconditionally. Weird isn't it. Such a temporary friend holds so much love up until they pass. Made me realize how much we take advantage of how long we live sometimes.