new addition

So it all started when I got my younger sister a kitten before I came home from school. This kitten would naturally have to be spayed when it was old enough. So about two weeks ago we took the kitten to the shelter to get the surgery done. Yesterday we took her back to get the stitches out. We were looking around at the dogs there since I just lost my St. Bernard about a month ago. I wrote this the day before I lost her:

She is dying, my baby is dying. I lost one dog last year and now I’m losing another one. She has already lived past her expected age by 6 years. She is quite an old girl. Mum and I found her in her pen today breathing so heavily that her stomach moved by inches. It appeared she had not left her dog box in days, despite my mom’s raptures that she saw her up that morning. When we finally got her up and started to wash her we knew that she hadn’t left her box in days. She reeked of urine and feces. She could hardly move. How could this have happen between this week and last when I had her out for a bath and she bounded about joyfully. I am convinced that she had a small heart attack around Wednesday or Thursday of this week. This probably left her paralyzed from in her back legs and since she is such a large breed, she was unable to move. How could I have let this happen? I got her for my eighth birthday, you know. She has been my best friend my whole life. Ever since college started I have not had as much time to spend with her. I faithfully bath her once a week during the summer, since she has such a thick coat and lives outside, but that has not been enough. She is dying and there is absolutely nothing I can do.

She died the next day and it broke my heart. I wasn't ready to put this up until now. But being me, I have to have a dog. Something inside me just isn't right unless I have a dog that I know loves me more than anyone. I found that love in a skinny, brown, shy whippit/ visila cross from Action for Animals. We were walking past an outdoor kennel with a very loud furry dog and a frantic beagle, when I saw her. I remember the way she sat in the corner, ears back, watching us but not moving. Her regal, elegant figure commanded attention yet she was so shy. I stopped and knelt next to the pen. When the other two finally decided that I wasn't worth their attention and left, she came over. She sat in front of me and stuck out her giraffe neck to sniff my hand. She wagged her tail twice on the dirt. I knew she was the one I needed, so I adopted her. My mother was all for it, surprisingly, and she filled out the papers as I flew home to get my check book. 12o dollars later she was mine. She sat in the passenger seat just like a person, her long neck almost reaching the front windshield. Her name originally was sylvia, but I knew that she didn't like that name so I renamed her Kiatsa, Kia for short. When I said her new name out loud for the first time she whipped her head around and perked her ears up. I knew then that I had made the right decision, however rash. She was mine and I would take her every where with me, right after graduation that is. I think she will like Colorado when I move there. I'm not so scared about moving out on my own, because I won't be alone. I will have Kia, sitting in the passenger seat, smearing her nose all over my windshield, to keep me company.