The days leading up to today I purposely waltzed through my life as usual, not wa nting to bring attention to the hardness

of the situation at hand. The night bef ore I tossed and turned, my stomach in knots and tangles. I could not help but a nticipate the great demise of an even greater companion. In the morning I would have to say goodbye. I would have to pet his warm body, kiss his face, listen to his heart beat for the very last time. This ripped and gutted me into tiny piec es of sorrow and ache. I have loved him for over half my life, I simply do not k now how to live without him. When day broke, I ignored my alarm and all the other indications that ou r time was becoming precious. I closed my now glossy eyes tight as to not let th e light in. If the day could be ignored- passed over like an unwanted treat- I c ould keep him for just one more day. I bargained my life, my limbs, my soul for this to be a dream: but when it was becoming too late for childish thoughts I ju mped out of bed and rushed to the front yard where I knew he would be wading in the sun. Sure enough he was. I saw him like I have seen him for all these yearshappy and with a youthful spirit. I took a seat beside him and watched as his c hest rose and fell with each inhale and each exhale. I put my hands on his body and wished that I could give him more happy and healthy years. Twenty minutes later, the reaper came. This time, however, she was kindwith soft curls and colorfully tattooed arms. He sat up at attention. I swivele d around to kiss his nose and look into his eyes. I tried to say I'm sorry but t he cataracts which fogged his eyes neglected to transcribe the message. Within t en minutes he was relaxed and sleeping. I pet him like never before; memorizing what his fur felt like between my fingers, the way his head smelt of cedar and h is body like trees. I mimicked his breathing as the final shot was given and tog ether we took his last breath. His heart had slowly stopped as mine had quickly broken. I can only hope that in his fifteen years of life he felt half of the lo ve that he had given me. I know at some point this tragedy will be a distant and less painful memory, but until then all I can do is remember when our roles wer e reversed. When I was the one surrendering to life and he was the one pulling m e out of the dark. The eternal optimism that was his smiley face by the gate whe n I got home. The comfort that was his heavy paws across my lap on the couch. Hi s existence was my everything, and for nothing in return. I will get on, begrudgingly, for my hero has died and all I feel is alone.