Corky

Sadness has finally struck. It's been awhile, but it was inevitable. Corky (my dog) is in bad shape. He hasn't got long for this world because he's in a lot of suffering. He can barely walk. My dad is ready to put him down, but I've always been against that. I believe that we should be allowed to die naturally, but is the suffering supreme enough to warrant it? =( I honestly think "no," but I doubt I will have much of a say in the matter. Corky represents my home. He represents the transition of my childhood to adulthood. Everything that I know about my home life has always involved him being there. We've had him since I was young, when I first began understanding the way things work and the world we live in. He's 11-12 years old now (we never officially knew his age because we picked him up from the pound). He has never attacked anyone, hurt a soul, and has been nothing but love (maybe his stomach would get him into a little trouble here or there, but nothing big). I've taken him for granted, but I know that I have learned from him. Not everything is permanent; treat what you have the best you can while you have it. The image that will be etched into my brain until the day I die is the picture I have of Corky, resting his sleepy head on the very first baseball bat I got for Christmas that year. This really shouldn't have to happen, but it does, and sometimes there are just things that are out of our hands.

Knowing this doesn't make it any easier though. =*(