For my entire life, Bailey was my dog. He was a mix of black lab and Rottweiler and had shiny black fur and long legs. His big head was comfortable when snuggling, and he had adorable brown eyes that glimmered in the sunlight. Bailey was a large dog, and in his youth he could run like lightning. However, Bailey was never a fetcher; he refused to retrieve any ball that was thrown for him. He was always happy, and he enjoyed good company. Above all, Bailey had a lot of energy.
When I was in pre-school, Bailey got hit by a car. Bailey sometimes snuck across the paved road outside our house in order to go enjoy our neighbor’s land, especially their pond. He was a very outdoorsy dog, and enjoyed exploring. One day, my mom called for Bailey, not realizing that he had been enjoying his day across the street. Bailey, while crossing the road, got hit by an oncoming van, or maybe he hit the van. We just don't know. I don’t know if he was arrogant and refused not to look, or if he simply did not see or hear the van coming as he rushed across the street to his loving mother. Either way, the car smashed into him and knocked him senseless. I was in pre-school, not knowing the terrible accident that had befallen my beloved friend. Bailey was not seriously injured, but he was quite shaken up. He could still walk and run, but he certainly became more wary of the road. The accident was scary for my entire family, especially for my mom.
After the accident, Bailey lived a long and happy life for about ten more years. He enjoyed every aspect of life, especially sunbathing. I remember one summer day when Bailey was lying out on the patio with his entire body flopped on the ground like a pancake and his polka-dotted tongue flopping wildly out of his mouth. He just always seemed happy. The only fear that Bailey had was his fear of thunder. Once, when it thundered, Bailey put his entire head under the couch and whined like a puppy for hours. Another time, he paced the width of the living room more times than I could count before the thunder stopped. Other than the occasional thunder, Bailey remained calm and happy.
I could not imagine life without Bailey as he was part of the family. However, he was getting older. His once strong and shiny black coat was now slowly fading to grey, and his movements were getting slower. Instead of sprinting while playing, Bailey lazily trotted. It was despairing to see such a rapid degeneration in my beloved friend over such a short time. The period of only a few months where Bailey transformed from a strong adult to an unsteady elder was hard on my family. We watched helplessly from the sidelines as our beautiful dog slowly morphed into a helpless cripple, his hips failing him.
Instead of trotting in front of me on walks, Bailey was now trucking behind, slowly walking and panting as if he constantly needed to catch his breath. His condition worsened until he could no longer walk easily without assistance. The car crash from his youth may have finally come back to haunt him. Bailey's hind legs could simply not keep up with his healthy front legs. He became immobile. I remember the last time he tried to descend the stairs by himself. His once loyal hind legs gave out on him and he tumbled part way down the stairs. He crashed into the wooden floor at the bottom of the stairs and whimpered. He must have felt betrayed.
What is a dog without the ability to walk? Life would have no meaning to him anymore. I could see it in his drooping eyes from the despairing look that never left him. He was not happy, and he could never be happy again. I loved him so much, and we could not continue to see him in such pain. He always made me happy, and and I was just realizing I could not possibly return the favor. My family knew it was time to release him from his pain.
The next day, the appointment with vet was made. On the way to the vet, I could hardly restrain my tears. Bailey, sitting comfortably in the back seat, seemed to know where we were taking him. I tried to keep looking forward at the depressing grey pavement that loomed in front of me, but I could not bear it. I turned my head and stared into my mutt's deep brown eyes. His ears were perked up, but the rest of his body remained limp. His head was resting gently on his paw, cocked ever so slightly to one side. He seemed to be begging for release. That was my only comfort.
At the vet, my dad went inside the building as I waited outside with Bailey. I opened the back hatch of the grey Subaru, placed my head on his soft fur and cried until I felt there was nothing left inside me. My dad came back outside, bringing with him the nice vet that would soon put my dog to sleep. She came into my car, as if invading my space. She had with her a needle filled with fluid. The bright sun shone in my eyes as the needle pierced his old grey pelt which now shone brightly in the sunshine. I grasped his paw, and his eyes closed.
We chose not to cremate my friend, and instead my dad and I buried him in our back yard; I don't believe that cremation really helps the healing process. The house was vacant, and I felt empty inside. I will never forget my friend, and he will always have a place in my heart. He was my first dog, but definitely not my last. I am still sad, but I will always remember his energy and enthusiasm. Bailey will always have a special place in my heart.
