(no subject)
Irma
“Tiffany, we have something to tell you,” I said reluctantly as my mom and I sat with my little sister on her bed. “Irma has passed on. She’s in heaven now, and she doesn’t feel pain any more. Look-you can see her from your window,” I pointed toward the spot where Irma had been buried earlier that day.
As far back as I can remember, I have always wanted a puppy of my own. I would constantly bug my mom and dad about getting one. They would always say things like “when you get older” and “when you are responsible enough.” Well one day, when I was six, they gave in and came home with a brand new Rottweiler puppy. I was ecstatic. I’m sure that if my sister, Tiffany, had known what was going on, she would have been excited too. I gave our new puppy the name Irma. This was a very unusual name, but I liked it.
Every night Irma would keep us all awake as she howled in her makeshift pen. Every day we would play with her and try to teach her new tricks. We noticed that she loved to play with a ball. No matter what kind of a ball-baseball, tennis ball, super ball-she was obsessed with chasing them. We enrolled Irma in obedience classes that my dad took her to. Soon she could sit, lie down, roll over, and speak on command. We loved Irma with all of our hearts.
On a warm summer day, when Irma was two, my dad went to work as usual for his landscaping business. My mom, sister and I were all in the study hanging up pictures. I heard a strange sound coming from outside. I had no idea what it was, so I ignored it. My mom heard yelping coming from the street. We all ran outside and saw something in the road and a car speeding away. Our Irma was hit by a car! And that jerk didn’t even stop to see if she was ok! They just kept on going and left her there. It was our neighbor, whom we had not had any problems with in the past, but they hit our dog. And left her there to die. We moved her to the side of the road and my mom ran inside to call Papa. Mom and Papa lifted her onto a “slow children at play” sign while I held her head up and we placed her into the back of the van. We quickly drove to the animal hospital as poor Irma was laying down in the back, crying. They kept her there for a couple of days and did surgery on her hip and pelvis. I was very excited to see her when my dad brought her home. She slowly got better and better. We were very fortunate that she did not have extremely severe damage. Soon, it seemed like nothing had ever happened to her.
As Irma grew in age and size, she began to slow down. She developed arthritis and it was getting more difficult for her to move. She still loved to play outside with my dad and his employees when they threw her ball for her. Her joints began to swell and she had large pockets of fluid in her elbows. She began to have bladder problems and could not control when she went. Because of her constant accidents, my mom would no longer allow her to stay upstairs. This may have been better for her because she could no longer climb the stairs on her own. I knew that Irma had been through a lot in her life and that her time was coming soon.
On a hot summer day in August, I was on my way to work, when I saw Irma lying down in the basement. She was moving very slowly and I decided to go to work a little late so that I could spend some time with Irma. I laid down with her and stroked her warm black fur. I talked to her about different things and told her how much I loved her. I finally decided to leave for work and said one last thing to her, “Goodbye, Irma. See you later.”
I came home from work at about 4:15 that afternoon. I walked up my driveway and saw Irma lying on the ground. I walked over to her in order to comfort her and love her. I noticed that there were flies around her and her gums were more grey than pink. Her chest was not moving. I hugged her and told her that I loved her. I ran inside and called my dad at work. “Dad? I think that Irma is dead.” He told me that he would come over as soon as he could. I ran around the house and searched for a picture of Irma so that I could hold her in my arms one last time. I became very angry. I wanted Irma back. I finally started to cry and I tried to call my best friend, Hannah. I needed some comforting words. I had just found my only dog dead. No one picked up the phone at her house so I tried to call my boyfriend. No answer. I felt so alone. My dog was outside my house, dead. I had no one there to talk to me and tell me that everything was going to be okay. I called my dad again and screamed at him, “WHERE ARE YOU?!” He finally came home and confirmed that she had passed on. He was extremely upset as well. This was his dog. Irma was his ‘big big baby’. My mom called and asked if she really was dead. I told her yes and that Dad was burying her as we speak. She told me not to let my sister find out. She would not be able to handle this bad news. I agreed and hung up the phone. I continued to bawl my eyes out thinking about my Irmie. I looked out the window and saw my dad making a gravestone for Irma. It said “Irma 1996-2004.”
As I look back at her last day with us, I feel very lucky that I was able to say goodbye to Irma one last time. I love her with my whole heart and am glad that she is peacefully able to rest painless and free. She was my first puppy and although I may love my other pets as much as her, I will always love her longer.
“Tiffany, we have something to tell you,” I said reluctantly as my mom and I sat with my little sister on her bed. “Irma has passed on. She’s in heaven now, and she doesn’t feel pain any more. Look-you can see her from your window,” I pointed toward the spot where Irma had been buried earlier that day.
As far back as I can remember, I have always wanted a puppy of my own. I would constantly bug my mom and dad about getting one. They would always say things like “when you get older” and “when you are responsible enough.” Well one day, when I was six, they gave in and came home with a brand new Rottweiler puppy. I was ecstatic. I’m sure that if my sister, Tiffany, had known what was going on, she would have been excited too. I gave our new puppy the name Irma. This was a very unusual name, but I liked it.
Every night Irma would keep us all awake as she howled in her makeshift pen. Every day we would play with her and try to teach her new tricks. We noticed that she loved to play with a ball. No matter what kind of a ball-baseball, tennis ball, super ball-she was obsessed with chasing them. We enrolled Irma in obedience classes that my dad took her to. Soon she could sit, lie down, roll over, and speak on command. We loved Irma with all of our hearts.
On a warm summer day, when Irma was two, my dad went to work as usual for his landscaping business. My mom, sister and I were all in the study hanging up pictures. I heard a strange sound coming from outside. I had no idea what it was, so I ignored it. My mom heard yelping coming from the street. We all ran outside and saw something in the road and a car speeding away. Our Irma was hit by a car! And that jerk didn’t even stop to see if she was ok! They just kept on going and left her there. It was our neighbor, whom we had not had any problems with in the past, but they hit our dog. And left her there to die. We moved her to the side of the road and my mom ran inside to call Papa. Mom and Papa lifted her onto a “slow children at play” sign while I held her head up and we placed her into the back of the van. We quickly drove to the animal hospital as poor Irma was laying down in the back, crying. They kept her there for a couple of days and did surgery on her hip and pelvis. I was very excited to see her when my dad brought her home. She slowly got better and better. We were very fortunate that she did not have extremely severe damage. Soon, it seemed like nothing had ever happened to her.
As Irma grew in age and size, she began to slow down. She developed arthritis and it was getting more difficult for her to move. She still loved to play outside with my dad and his employees when they threw her ball for her. Her joints began to swell and she had large pockets of fluid in her elbows. She began to have bladder problems and could not control when she went. Because of her constant accidents, my mom would no longer allow her to stay upstairs. This may have been better for her because she could no longer climb the stairs on her own. I knew that Irma had been through a lot in her life and that her time was coming soon.
On a hot summer day in August, I was on my way to work, when I saw Irma lying down in the basement. She was moving very slowly and I decided to go to work a little late so that I could spend some time with Irma. I laid down with her and stroked her warm black fur. I talked to her about different things and told her how much I loved her. I finally decided to leave for work and said one last thing to her, “Goodbye, Irma. See you later.”
I came home from work at about 4:15 that afternoon. I walked up my driveway and saw Irma lying on the ground. I walked over to her in order to comfort her and love her. I noticed that there were flies around her and her gums were more grey than pink. Her chest was not moving. I hugged her and told her that I loved her. I ran inside and called my dad at work. “Dad? I think that Irma is dead.” He told me that he would come over as soon as he could. I ran around the house and searched for a picture of Irma so that I could hold her in my arms one last time. I became very angry. I wanted Irma back. I finally started to cry and I tried to call my best friend, Hannah. I needed some comforting words. I had just found my only dog dead. No one picked up the phone at her house so I tried to call my boyfriend. No answer. I felt so alone. My dog was outside my house, dead. I had no one there to talk to me and tell me that everything was going to be okay. I called my dad again and screamed at him, “WHERE ARE YOU?!” He finally came home and confirmed that she had passed on. He was extremely upset as well. This was his dog. Irma was his ‘big big baby’. My mom called and asked if she really was dead. I told her yes and that Dad was burying her as we speak. She told me not to let my sister find out. She would not be able to handle this bad news. I agreed and hung up the phone. I continued to bawl my eyes out thinking about my Irmie. I looked out the window and saw my dad making a gravestone for Irma. It said “Irma 1996-2004.”
As I look back at her last day with us, I feel very lucky that I was able to say goodbye to Irma one last time. I love her with my whole heart and am glad that she is peacefully able to rest painless and free. She was my first puppy and although I may love my other pets as much as her, I will always love her longer.