The hardest things I ever gone threw was the death of my sister named Kaya. She was carried home when I was seven. I held the nine-pound puppy boxer in my arms and everyone in my family fell in love with her immediately. More details about her life stand out in my mind than any other animal we have ever lived with. As I remember, Kaya had five siblings, three boys and two girls. Her mother and father lived with the breeder along with a few pugs that were also bred. She was born on September 26, 2001, right after the terrorist attack on the World Trade Center. Because of this, all of her siblings were named names from the bible; Kaya however, was named Terra. This always amused me because you could not ask for a better dog or a better wrestle mate. She always had a spark of great sprite in her eyes. Kaya slept with me every night and some nights we would play wrestling in bed, but as it got late I would try to calm her down. She would slowly stop and look as though she was ready for bed. So I would turn the lights off and try to sleep. Well, in about five minutes I would feel a sixty-five pound little ball of energy pounce on me and continue to pin me down. Of course her tail was wagging the whole time. How I will miss these wonderful moments.
I had always dreaded the time when Kaya would become old and sick. Despite the presents for Kaya, there was something sad about her birthdays because of the thought of her growing old. Unfortunately, the day did come.
One day, dad picked me up at school and said "Kaya is sick." I responded saying, "I'm sure she will be fine" (dad does have a tendency to over react). But when I got home, I saw that I was very wrong. She was not eating or drinking or even walking. Kaya's brain tumor was just not holding off any longer. I nursed her as best I could and I was able to spoon-feed her. She started drinking and to dad's and my amazement, she became better with just a little wobble from her legs now and then.
The week after Kaya's sickness I had one week off from school. Dad, Misha (my other dog) and I spent as much time as possible with dear little Kaya. She played with Misha outside and cuddled with me in bed. However, the first Monday back to school dad picked me up with the same dreaded quotes that I had heard recently before. Kaya was sick. I greeted her when I got home and made her tail wag one last time. I tried to feed her and she ate very well. Kaya drank a lot also. This was a sign that she was going to be ok. But that night, all went bad for Kaya. At 2:00 am, I lifted her up and put her on the floor thinking that with some help she could walk, but she fell right down. That's when I knew she was really sick. Kaya had sadly lost total control over her body. She may have had a stroke or her brain tumor may have been pushing on vital parts of her brain, know one really knows for sure. That day I cuddled with her one last time. I told her how cute her little paws were as I held them and I told her how much I loved her. I told her that everything was going to be O.K. Misha was brought to her one last time so that he too could say goodbye. I held her in my arms and carried her out of the house the last time. Dad and I stayed with her every second to the end with tears flowing down our faces. It was the most tearful and painful day I have ever experienced.
Having to accept Kaya's sickness and death were the hardest things I have ever had to deal with. Her death was nine months ago and I still cry over her death. I know that not a day will go by where I do not think about her or miss her dearly. She was a blessing to us and so was my last week off with her. Kaya was our family's most loved angel and will always be in our hearts.