It has been over four years already and even thinking about my doggy brings tears to my eyes. I feel pretty ridiculous when I begin to tell people about my dog and what happened, causing the moisture to build in the corner of my eyes and the lump in my throat to form. It seems as though most people want to say, 'um, it's just an animal', 'it's been over four years', 'time to get over it'. I just don't understand, even some people that have animals make me feel that they are thinking I am nuts. I loved my dog, I had her from 5th grade to my last year in college, I grew up with her and she was apart of my family. I would love to play with her again, pet her soft ears, tickle her paws. Even I didn't think I could still be so sad after so long. I just don't see myself ever getting over it, which I hope is not the case. I mean, I will never forget my dog, but I would like to be able to talk about it without crying like a baby. I have never really even told anyone the whole story because I cannot get through the it without becoming emotional. It 2006. The day my mom called me to tell me something was wrong, I was at work. She called and told me Delta wasn't feeling well, she wasn't eating and she seemed very lethargic. She had taken her to the vet, who told her Delta had a tumor in her belly, which was causing her not to eat because it was blocking her intestines. The vet told her they could operate, but because of her age, there was only a 30% chance of her living. My mom, did not want to put her through the pain, unfortunately I am the kind of person that would exhaust every option before giving up. But it wasn't up to me, which was hard, I wanted so bad to try. I would have paid anything, any amount of money, I would have done anything to make Delta better, but she was my mom's dog. I sometimes blame my mom, she should have taken the dog to the vet more, animals need checkups too, just like people. I think that is why I am bothered so much by this, why I can't let go, because I have never really said anything, before or after, I just let it happen. It could have been for the best though, I guess I will never know. There was one thing though, that I could not do. I told my mom, I could not let her take Delta to a clinic or anywhere, in which case I would have to walk in with my dog and walk out with an empty collar and leash. I just could not do it, the thought of passing all those people and healthy animals, trying to fight back the blubbering tears, and walking into a cold room, with my baby on a metal table, dying, I just could not do it. So I researched and found a business that will come out to the house to put your pet to sleep. It was hard, but it was so much better then having to go to an animal hospital. They came out to the house and let Delta walk around, even though she barely could, until she finally laid down near the fence opening. It was aweful, the vet said she had chosen her place, her place to die. I took a few pictures with her, of me and my baby. I still have one in a silver frame a few feet away from me right now. They came out so perfectly, first shot. No retakes needed. The light was perfect, our faces perfect. It was so aweful, I just knew I would never get this moment back, that I was running out of time. They let my siblings say good-bye, my grandma thought it was better if they went for a walk. They are younger and were in high school. My mom came over with the vet. The vet explained what was going to happen. I just kept petting my baby, while my mom told her what a great dog she was, and that my mom was so sorry, and that she knew Delta was tired, and it was ok, it was ok to rest. I was just sobbing, rubbing my baby's ears and face. Then the vet administered the drugs, the drugs that would take my baby away forever. She immediately began to close her eyes and then she just went limp. It was over, it could not be reversed, but I still continued to pet her, I was crying harder now. I just kept saying "My baby, my baby!". My mom and Grandma told me it was ok, the vet gave us a few minutes with her and then asked if they could take her away. It was terrible, they laid down a blue tarp and picked her up like she was a pig to put her on. Then they took her away. A few days later, we received a card with the "Rainbow Bridge" poem, along with her ashes. They said she was cremated alone, but who knows, who knows what is even in the box. I miss her so much, I am traumatized for life. I honestly do not know if it was a good thing to see her put to sleep, but I wouldn't want her to be alone either. I don't think I could get over the guilt of her dying alone. So I guess I am glad that I could be there during her last moments, they were so precious. People always ask me if I have any tattoos, I say no, because I cannot think of anything important enough to put on my body forever. But I think I am going to get a tattoo of Delta, on my shoulder blade. I have plenty of pictures to choose from; my mom would always make fun of me when I was younger because I took and had more pictures of the dog then our actual family. I have so many memories of her. We used to put t-shirts and socks on her, my mom would make her breakfast on special occasions when she would make it for us too. By the way, she was a bit overweight, of course, my mom would blame it on us, but it was her. She would never run away, one time we accidentally left her out front when we were bringing in groceries. About twenty minutes after we were all inside, I look out to the front storm door, which had glass in it at the time and I seen Delta. I thought it was just a reflection; I turned to look at where it was coming from, but then realized she was sitting on the porch. She was probably thinking, 'hey, what about me?, let me in!'. I loved her, I am sure everyone says their pet is unique, but Delta truly was unique. I swear I have never met a dog like her, she definately did not think she was a dog, and she wasn't, she was a family member. I guess I have always had an obsessive love for animals. I have two cats now, and I love them to death, I think about them all the time, anytime I do anything in my place, I think about how it will affect them, can they get into this, can they get hurt, etc. It is like they are really babies. Hopefully it means I will be a good protective mom, or maybe it just means I have obsessive compulsive disorder. I think I just love my animals, I am about to go back to school to be a vet technician and then hopefully a vet. It is something I should have done a few years ago, but after Delta died, I just didn't think I could ever get passed any animal dying in front of me or being sick. I am there to console people and instead I will probably be crying like a baby. Hopefully it all works out. I hope if there is anyone out there that is still mourning their loss, no matter how much time has gone by, no one makes them feel as though they should 'get over it'. And I really wish this website had spell/grammar check. :o)