THE DAY I REALIZED SHE'D GONE TO HEAVEN

As I lay here with my dark brown curls smushed beneath her golden furry paws that had grown to a dull shade. I cherish this moment. She sleeps by me, eyes shut closed filled with a light crust. No matter how much I wipe them, the crust grows. Her belly warmer then my heater fighting this September chill, and we sleep. Her tiredness was brought on by the sickness, and even though it made her sleep I enjoyed the time she got to spend in my room. We got the sleepovers I wished for. Days and Days spent where she'd rest on my pink rug, and I'd rest on the wooden floor next to it. I didn't feel sad knowing her days would come to an end soon, because I knew she was with me, and these ending days would last a lifetime.

One afternoon she got more energetic than ever.

"The medicine is working!" My mom shouted excitedly.

She wasn't weak, she had energy. She ran back and forth limping on her broken knee, acting as thou there was no pain. She shook her bottom and wagged her tail, and we danced in the kitchen from the afternoon to the night.

She was better and I felt less worried, so I left that night to have a sleepover at my cousins house. Why wouldn't I? My Winnie was doing well, and I was 14. As a 14yr old girl you need a night out for watching romantic comedies and doing nails.

That morning I received a call that left a pit in my stomach. Not a tear was shed on my side. My mother wailed on the phone so loud I could feel her tears leaking through the holes of the speaker. My mother expressed how she laid with her on the patio ground on this chilly day. I imagined my mother jet black straight hair against the ground, laying like I once did. Her olive toned hands petting Winnie in her final moments. I sat there thinking of this and not a tear was shed. I sat there staring blankly at the TV wondering why I did not cry. I wanted to go home, but I feared when I got there, that my Winnie wouldn't be there.

Later that day I reached the backdoor of my home. The same door that leads to the yard that I let Winnie out of. Opening the door I could see the three footsteps leading to the entry way of the kitchen. The same footsteps I would have to lift her up, because how should she with a broken knee. I step onto the steps one at a time leaning my hand forward to grip onto the rusty knob. The white door begins to creak as I push it forward, you could the tiny sheets of chipped paint growing looser.

I see a dark room, as the sun says goodnight, the light fades and shadows fill the walls. I see her my Icis, hiding between the shadows that lives underneath the dining room table. Her long tail caressed with white and caramel shaded fur wrapped between her legs. She whimpers, knowing that Winnie is gone. Kneeling down onto the cold tile I lift my arms out to her. She hurries over to me, and I feel her warmth. I realize now that I no longer have my Winnie, but at least I have Icis. This thought brings a stinging to my eyes, and I feel the droplets roll down my cheeks onto her short haired back.

I rest in my bed, looking down at my pink fur rug where she would lay. Thinking back to the sleepovers we shared in her final days. Winnie was a good dog, a great dog. She sat when you told her to sit and she laid down when you told her to lay down. Icis was opposite from Winnie. She never sat when you told her to sit and she never laid down when you told her to lay down. It may have helped that Winnie was a golden retriever and they were known for being intelligent dogs, but Icis was smart too. She could always sneak your food off the counter. She was also a puppy with a long way to go.

Icis was a pure bred pit bull and the runt of the liter. My step father named her after an Egyptian queen, and like a queen she was treated. Her food had to be heated up for 30 seconds, her bed needed to be soft, and she never ate dry food unless it was mixed properly with wet food. A crucial thing I also had to remember. I think of it as I stand here now hovering over her metal food bowl that sits on top of the counter holding a cup of dry pedigree. I shake a can of the same brand reading 'Steak and Vegetables'. Watching it slop over top, I start to mush my fingers in it, getting the wet food stuck in the inner corner of my tan fingers until its at a consistency of her liking. I glance down at Winnie's bowl and wish I could make her dinner as well, but it would just grow cold.

Night came fairly quickly and I had grown tired from all the tears. More nights passed like this, and days got shorter. I wondered where my Winnie was. I spent more time with Icis. She was lonely after losing her friend. We started having dinner in the dinning room instead of our rooms. I took her for walks and even let her sleep on my pink rug. Although some nights she would still hide between the shadows under the dinning room table. Aside from this things had gotten easier, we made them easier.

One night I went to bed fairly late. I dreamt I was in the clouds near some sort of park. There were bushes of bright green, and colorful flowers intertwined in the branches. The sight of them was slightly faded by the suns power. I could see ground, but the ground was carried by the sky. Sunlight shined down from above and glistened against the stone floor, and there she was in the distance. I saw my Winnie. She ran towards me and her limp was no longer there, her eyes no longer crusty, and her fur was not dull, but golden. She was happy, she was in heaven.

When I awoke I went towards the kitchen. To get in you have to unlock the gate we kept to keep Icis from jumping on the couches. Icis ran up to me for the first time in a long time wagging her tail to tell me good morning. As I walked towards the fridge to find something to calm my tummies grumble I reminisced on my dream. A dream is just a dream some would say. But my Icis was happier today and so was I. In that moment I felt a peace. We wouldn't have to try to get happier, we were. Because my Winnie had gone to heaven, and my Icis knew it too.

THE END.