It was one unforgettable Sunday, my little brother was sick, stomach flu, and so I went with some friends to play at their house. We had a great time, playing in the pool and just acting like normal kids. I was only in second grade when this upcoming event took place. After a fun-filled day in the pool, my brother and I came home, ready to tell all about our day. That's when I noticed that TV was paused, the cat was nowhere to be seen, and my mother had a sad look upon her face. She looked at us and said, "Ashley, you know that Neo has had trouble going to the bathroom lately?" I answered her with a yes since I have noticed this recently. Then she followed with, "Ashley, I took Neo to the vet today, and he said he had an obstruction in his bladder, and he needed surgery. But then he said the surgery would cost seven hundred dollars." I didn't see where my mom was going with this until she said, "Ashley, we had to put Neo to sleep. He's gone." I was sitting there shocked, and I started to cry. Tears were pouring down my face and I cried like I never cried before. For recently, we had to give up our dog to another owner because we didn't have the time to play with him, so the pain of losing another furry friend was more intense. I went to bed crying and alone. He was my best friend and God took him away. The next night was a miracle, I got up to find him sitting on the edge of my bed, I was relieved. But then I looked again and he was gone. I told myself that it was amessage saying that he was okay now and that he was living happily and peaceful. And I thought it was his way of saying to stop grieving, because he wanted us to remember him as happy, playful cat. He dd not want his memory to be associated with pain and suffering. My grandma gave me a picture of him that I will
always cherish, because he went out the best way a cat could go out, a friend loved by all.