We expected it, it was bound to happen, he was getting old.  They always say you remember more details about traumatic events, but I hadn’t believed it until now.  I remember the warm salty tears streaming down my face and the dead silence in the car aside from the song playing.

I remember getting back from school.  It was a really good day, my friend’s birthday was the next day.  My mom and I were planning on going out to grab a present for her.

Then I heard my mom whispering on the phone, “I’ll tell them, we’ll be over quick.”

She walked out of the living room, her eyes were red and puffy.

She called us all down, “Stan passed away today.  He tried to jump over the creek, but landed wrong. I was driving over to your dads to check on him, when I saw him and I called Aunt Holly.  We couldn’t do anything, he was in too much pain.  Holly had to put him to sleep.”

I remember being frozen, completely shocked.  I couldn't believe it, he was fine yesterday.

I remember listening to the song on the way to Dad’s.  My sister was asking questions about Stan,  but I didn’t want to hear the answers to them.  Dog Days are Over by Florence and the Machine started playing, it was refreshing. I didn’t want to change the song it seemed to match the event perfectly.

I remember the sight.  He was in the garage, wrapped up, tucked away safe. He was so skinny, it seemed fake.  I thought this whole thing was fake.  My dad was crying, he never cries. Ever since my mom moved out he had been hanging more with Stan.

I remember petting his curly fur.  It was a dark grey-greasy color. Months before, I would lay near Stan and he would just look at me.  I would read, do my homework, listen to music, or just simply lay there.  Every once and in a while, I would check on him, make sure he was warm, comfy, still breathing.  I would come down from my room and walk by him, just to make sure he was okay.  Every time I would freak out if I didn’t see him breathing.  I would always get scared and rush towards him, I would try to wake him up. He would always wake.
   

I remember picking up my cat, Shadow. I would whisper things, such as how he has to be strong and nice to Stan, to give him space and time to sleep.  Shadow was Stan’s best friend, they would do everything together.  When one of them was sleepy, they would both sleep.  When one was hungry, they would both eat.  My favorite photo was of them walking side by side on the gravel road.  Shadow was walking by Stan, looking up at him with love.  The photo hangs on my wall at my dad’s house.

I remember grabbing dark purple lavender. I picked the prettiest ones, they were just in bloom so they were still budding. I placed them on top of his grave.  Stan was a piece of the family.  It was like a puzzle, with a piece missing, the puzzle wasn't finished. Stan was that missing piece and he was gone now.

I remember him.  I think about him daily.  He was my dog, my warmth, my guardian angel.  When ever I would cry, he would walk up to me and lay down. I would explore the woods with him and have picnics, and have tea and treats.

When the bus drops me off and I’m walking home, I always stop by his grave for 10 minutes and just talk to him.  I don’t know if he could hear me.  I miss him everyday.