It was at least 6:00 pm. Sophia had just arrived at my house and we were watching my puppy. My dogs name was Bear, he was a Maltese shih Tzu mix, probably 10 pounds, at the age of 9 months old. He was as cute as a button, with his wet black nose, silky creamy fur, and he would always show the most salient happiness. We were having a normal conversation when all of the sudden Bear started hyper venerating. He was making these indescribable noises , then he vomited. I didn't even know how I was supposed to react so I got up quickly, grabbed my trash can and placed it under his mouth. After he calmed down, I aware my mom of the situation and she takes Bear.

Later I got a text from my friend Kasey and she invited Sophia and I to hang out with her and Blair, I texted back and we headed over to Kasey's house. When we got there Blair hadn't arrived yet. We had fun while we waited for Blair to get there and took lots of pictures. Then things went downhill from there. We were listening to music at the moment I heard a ringing. The ringing was coming from my phone, I looked at the caller ID and it was a picture of my dad and I from when I was little at my grandparents house in Tennessee. It had to have been at least six years ago. I was quite astonished when I saw I was getting a phone call from my dad, because he's hardly ever on his little flip phone, I figured he didn't even know how to use it.

As I was answering my phone I had approximately one million thoughts going through my head, was I in trouble? What did I do now?! Then the words came out, "Your mother, brother, and I are at the animal hospital." says my dad. "Why?" I said while I internally had a panic attack. "It's Bear, honey, they don't think he's going- and at that very moment, tears started pouring, and I mean pouring down my face. It's like the whole world stopped while my eyes filled up with tears not allowing me to see anything at all, just me, all alone. Before my dad could even finish his sentence I lost it. Not knowing what to even say back to him I respond by saying "What do you mean?" as I tried to keep myself under control and finish my sentence without breaking down and causing an even bigger scene in front of my friends, who, keep in mind, still have no idea what's going on and why I'm so agitated. He quickly spits out "He's very sick sweetie, they don't know what's wrong with him." I hang up the phone. I couldn't even comprehend my emotions at the moment.

As I continue to ball my eyes out, Blair drops an anchor and walks in the room, even more unaware of what in the world is happening.  As perplexed as she was, there was no way I could keep them guessing. Once I finally forced myself to keep it together, dry my eyes, and lie to myself saying that it would all be okay, I explained to them that Bear was at the animal hospital and he might not make it, even though, who am I kidding, I knew he wouldn't make it. Depressing, I know. Immediately after they hear what I have to say, they say the typical "It's going to be okay! Bear will be fine!". But deep down I think they knew he wasn't going to be fine.

After watching a depressing movie about bullies, I then get a phone call again. No, not my dad this time, but my grandpa. Yet again, why in the world would he be calling me? What bitter news now? So it goes, "Hey sweetie, It's your Poppy here, I am going to come and pick you and Sophia up, I'm on my way." First of all, stop with the honeys and sweeties, I know you are just trying to make me feel better, and it's not working. Second of all, why is Poppy coming to pick us up? (Poppy is what I call my grandpa). I tell my friends and then of course they have their questions. "Is it about Bear?" blah bah blah. I didn't even understand what was going on myself, much less could I tell them.

Poppy arrives. Sophia and I get in his car not even aware of where we are going. Then we pull into my driveway. It was the big reveal. My parents cars were both in the garage, so they are home from the vet. When I walk in, Is there going to be a little 10 pound puppy running into my arms with his wet kisses? Or will the silence be dead, with only tears streaming down everyone's eyes. I was shaking, ready to let my emotions out, half way prepared to never see my dog again. I was freaking out, with Sophia by my side. We walk in my house, and the truth is revealed. Bear wasn't there. Just my mom, dad, grandparents, brother, and silence. It's like as soon as I walked in everything became 20 times more depressing. We all start balling. They told me that the vet said Bear had internal bleeding in his lungs. They said no matter how much money we paid the they couldn´t save him and there was nothing that they could do about it. They didn´t even know what caused it.

Eventually Sophia and I go upstairs to my room and try to keep my mind off of Bear. It works, well kind of, sort of, a little bit I guess. I of course had to update my social media with the news and posted a picture of Bear the first day we got him. I got lots of nice comments, a few direct messages  and texts from different people encouraging me. It really did help. One person that direct messaged me was Blair. She had just gone through the same type of thing as me. Her dog, Jack, who she had had since she was young, had died about a month ago. She knew exactly what to say, exactly what I was going through, and she knew how I felt. For the rest of the night Sophia and I talked about it, she cried, I cried (a lot), and we cried some more.

It was all just extraordinarily daunting. My best friend had left me, he just left me and there was absolutely nothing I could've ever done. I realized that part of the reason it hurt so much, was not only because I loved him so adequately, but because he loved me back, he loved me no matter what. Bear didn't care how weird and annoying I was, he didn't care about the way I looked, or about my grades, he just unconditionally loved me for me, and then he was just gone. That's why it hurt so much.
RIP, I love you buddy.