I posted this on TalkBudgies a while back, but I thought I'd post it here, too.
Although I am interested in birds more than I am dogs, I do love dogs very much. I mean, who doesn't? I have a story I'd like to share, (sort of a sad one) about a dog I once had, so if you have some time to read and tell me what you think about it, please do.
It happened about four years ago when my depression started. I didn't understand it very well, and I didn't take any meds. I was super stressed from school, a bunch of my friends had been moving and my grades weren't the best. I overall didn't feel very well. My family already had one dog, but my mom, seeing as I was feeling bad, thought that we should go get a puppy. She suggested go looking one Saturday, and I was very, very excited, although she told me not to expect to get one that very day.
We went to a flea market just to look around, although we doubted we'd find one. I had never been to a flea market before, so I thought it was super cool and I insisted on looking around. We didn't see any dogs, though, and we began to leave when we spotted some puppies. That's when we found her. She was a cock-a-poo-beagle mix. She was black with blue eyes, super small and adorable. We asked about her, and she seemed perfect. We weren't sure whether to trust the breeder, though, but my mom felt better when the breeder made us use hand sanitizer before holding the puppy. We ended up buying her, and we got to go home with her that very day. You couldn't understand how excited and happy I was. I felt so much better about everything.
We ended up calling her Bailey, and I fell in love with her immedietely. The week we got her was my last week before spring break, and I was looking forward to spring break so I could spend all week training and playing with my new best friend. She was very well behaved, she got along with my other dog and her training was going very well. She was perfect. I'd go to school every day with new pictures to show my friends and come home every day eager to play with Bailey. It was the happiest I had been in a while. I specifically remember praying, and thanking God for her, and asking God to keep her healthy and happy with me for a long time.
I came home Wednesday of the week we got her to find her sleeping in her crate, which was abnormal. She was always hyper and ready to play. My mom told me that she had been throwing up and she wasn't feeling good. I wasn't too worried. I didn't think anything bad would happen, for I had never experienced puppy diseases. She wasn't happy and she kept throwing up. The next day was the same. She wasn't getting better, just worse. If you simply just pushed her stomach, she'd throw up. We took her to the vet, and my mom had the vet test her. I asked my mom what was happening, and my mom told me that she was having the vet test Bailey for parvovirus, a virus that makes puppies throw up and feel bad until they eventually die. She told me there was no cure, but there was treatment, however, it was very expensive and hard on the puppy, and there was no gaurentee it would work.
We waited for what seemed like forever, until the vet came back out. He had this look on his face that I would never forget, and he told us the Bailey had parvovirus. My mom started crying and so did I. The vet told us he was sorry. We left and went home. I remember being so furious at the breeder. I immedietely wanted someone to blame for this, and I told myself that it was the breeder who knew about it, didn't help her, and sold her to us. My mom called the breeder and they said they had no idea. The breeder did say that she would take Bailey and get her treated since she got a discount at her vet. We had no other option, so we met up with the breeder. I said my last goodbyes to Bailey, took her collar and left her. That was the last time I ever saw Bailey. The breeder called that Saturday and told us she had died. It was spring break, and there I was, without Baily. It took me weeks to get over it.
I believe that Bailey wasn't meant to be my dog. I believe she wasn't meant to be anybody's dog. I was meant to buy her, but not really own her. I believe the reason I found Bailey, the reason God sent Bailey to me, was so Bailey could have the best last week of her life, instead of being locked up in a cage. And, I believe I was successful in doing so, because I loved that puppy like she was the only thing in the world. I definetely spoiled her and played with her every second I could. Unknowingly, I had given her a gift like no other. I had given her a family, I had given her love. Had I ever regretted buying a puppy that only lasted a week? Never. Because I had one of the most important roles in Bailey's life.
To this day, I still think of Bailey. She never leaves my mind. I believe she is still with me, except without the pain she suffered the last week she was alive. For a while, I kept her collar. It smelled like her for a while, but eventually the smell disapeared. I ended up burying her collar and I visit that spot whenever I want to talk to Bailey. I love her so much.
We did get another dog that summer. She is still with us. When we were thinking of names for her, my mom suggested Bailey. But I told her it'd be too much like I was trying to replace Bailey. Bailey was never replaced. Bailey is still alive to me. She's just in a better place.