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It was this morning. He hadnt eaten in over two days and he could hardly breath or move. It would have been selfish to keep him here any longer than we already had. We just couldnt bare to torture him for another day. Of course, the idea of taking him to the vet to get crazy amounts of tests done and even crazier treatments administered had come to mind, but it's completely illogical to spend literally thousands of dollars without any guarantee that he will get better or even be restored to a life worth living.

Uhg, I dont even know why people even have pets. I mean, it always ends in heartbreak.

Dinner this evening was the worst though. My dad made skirt steak and the whole time I kept looking at the scraps on my plate and how instead of putting them in the dogs dish as an after dinner treat, I would be tossing them in the trash. I even looked over and saw that his bowl was gone and I almost started crying. On top of that, the four of us just sat there trying to fill in the awkward silences with anything that would take our minds off of the 30lb lump of fur that used to sit with us under the table every night while we ate dinner. Everybody was all teary eyed and depressed but some how we managed to make it through dinner without any major breakdowns.

I just hate how everything in my house is littered with memories of him. Watching TV isnt even fun anymore because I keep looking over in the hallway expecting to see a doofy little beagle sitting there waiting for me to take him out for one our kick ass walks. I keep waiting to hear my mom yell from the kitchen "Will somebody PLEASE get this dog out from under my feet!" as she gracefully trips over him. I still keep waiting to hear my dad tell my brother to bring the dog back inside because the highly inaccurate weather man just said it would start raining within the next 20 minutes.

Who's going to alert me through insane howling whenever there's some crazy bastard at the door trying to find out what color stain our porch is painted with? Who's going to practically tackle me every time I walk in the front door just to get a chance at five minutes of freedom running a muck outside? How is my mom ever going to sleep at night without telling my brother fifty thousand times to make sure he walks the dog before he goes to bed? I dont know anymore but a new dog is certainly not the answer.

My house is so empty now. I cant explain it but every second I spend at home just makes me sadder and sadder. There is a gigantic void right now and yet Ive somehow managed not to drown my sorrows in a pound of Chinese food and a pint of ice cream.

Jesus, even the cat's depressed.

Id better go wipe the ocean of tears off of my keyboard with some beach towels before my finger tips get all pruned. You should see my desk right now. Its completely buried in tear soaked tissues. I really loved that stupid dog. Why'd he have to going dying on me during my already shitty summer break?

Well, tomorrow brings a new day and with time comes healing. And everybody know that [comedy = tragedy + time] so I think within the next year, I'll have some excellent jokes to tell about that bouncy little beagle with the bizarre colored eyes and that damn "give me your paw" trick that seemed to be the only trick he could master. Although Im pretty sure if we tried, we could have gotten him to barf on command. He was good like that.

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