I was fourteen when my mom died. My younger brother who has autism was eleven. After she died it felt like there was this emptiness--like something was missing. We wanted to get a dog sooner, but her cancer diagnosis prevented us. Over a seven month period we watched our mom suffer and eventually die. It was a deeply felt loss and life felt surreal for a while. About a year later we adopted a golden retriever pup and named him Lucky. Lucky did not replace our mom but he filled in a hole. For a while there was an emptiness. Her chair sat empty. Her coffee maker was no longer used. Her voice was no longer heard. It felt strange and anxiety provoking. I had this feeling in the pit of my stomach that something about our house just seemed…off. Eventually things got easier, but it wasn’t until Lucky came along that our house felt like a home again. He filled our house with love and comfort. For my brother, Lucky was a companion, a source of friendship, and he helped provide my brother routine and a sense of responsibility. He rarely barked and was happy to see us. He loved attention and always wanted pets and belly rubs. He was extremely energetic. At 11.5 years old he was thriving. He was happy and energetic--running around and rolling in the grass-- until one day he suddenly wasn't. His death was very sudden, but it was clear he was in pain and that treatment would likely only prolong that pain. Now that he is gone I feel that emptiness again. The hole has once again returned and I feel so scared that I will be consumed by it. We're a family down to three again and the silence weighs on me. I miss the sound of his feet on the floor, of his snores and grunts. I miss his wagging tail, his panting, and the way he shoved his head under my arm when I was sitting in a chair. I miss his soft fur and big brown eyes. I miss his snuggles, his warmth, his happiness, his love. Lucky was a happy dog. His happiness was something we could count on. No matter what we were going through he was happy and he was a light in our lives. I'm scared that without him there will be darkness again. I'm scared of the silence that fills the spaces he occupied. I'm scared of the emptiness, the giant hole, the feeling like something isn't right--that something is missing. I am glad he lived a happy life and was able to help my brother in many ways. He helped all of us. He was my snuggly, sweet, Lucky boy. While I am sad, I am grateful we had him for as long as we did. I am grateful for every moment I had with him. And I will miss him forever.