When that little girl saw that Weimaraner puppy on October 13th 2003, jumping up and down, she knew it was love at first site. As soon as that dog saw her he went crazy. She went into the cage and it was like he was already her’s. He just loved her so already!! Since she had just got there, she decided to look at all the other dogs too, but her mind kept going back to that puppy. So finally, she picked him. He was ten weeks old, silver and was supposed to look very handsome when he was older, since his dad was a purebred silver Weimaraner, and his mom was a purebred blue Weimaraner. On the way home, that little girl went through names. She didn’t really want to name him Smokey, but that is what kept coming back to her mind. So she then decided, Silver Smokey Jo. It fit perfectly for him at that time. When she got home, she had to write a story for homework, and when she sat down, Smokey laid down right behind her chair. Like they were meant for each other. So at that time, her life seemed to be going perfect. But then, her and her family went on vacation. Her mom’s friend watched Smokey since she also had a Weimaraner. While she was gone, Smokey got sick. Not to worry her, her parents didn’t tell her at first. Then they did and she was worried. The only way Smokey was staying alive, was because the people who were watching him forced food and water into him. When the family got home, he was sick at first and all the doctors couldn’t figure out was wrong!! Every time they checked, they found nothing. Then life was ok again.
Around March, Smokey was about nine months old. He was getting pretty big. At that time, he was silver colored, with a blue strip down his back, and blue colored legs, and blue spots. He was a very odd looking dog. Then he got sick again. This time the vets did surgery, and found a whole bunch of pus inside his stomach. They took that out, and he was fine again. Then in June, the worst had come. This time nothing seemed to work. Smokey was throwing up blood; he had no energy what so ever, and barely ate or drank anything. The little girl, who was eleven years old at the time, was devastated. This was her puppy. The puppy who was her first “just her’s” puppy. It seemed to her like she had just got him, and now he looked so sick it made her cry. The puppy that had slept with his head on her pillow along with her, who had to be touching her or could not get to sleep, who chewed up everything, got her in big trouble, and she still loved him so much you wouldn’t think possible. Because this girl, was not like any other girls. All she cared about was dogs, and when she had one, it was like a baby to her. This puppy, who whenever she was sad, he sensed it, and always made her laugh. Her dad came over to her and said, “What do you want to do? Obviously, he’s not getting better. So do you want to put him to sleep? Or just pass it again and again till finally the disease is so strong it kills him?” Even though this seems like too much for a little girl, or any kid by that matter, she decided to put her little baby, to sleep, because she didn’t want him to suffer anymore, just to make her life better. Because that was not fair to him, and all she wanted was for him to be happy. So she went with her dad, and held Silver Smokey Jo until he wasn’t breathing anymore, whispering, “ I love you Smokey, I will never forget you. I will always love you. I’m gonna miss you. I love you.” “I love you,” was the last thing she said to him. He was put to sleep on June 16th, 2004, all most month before his first birthday (his first birthday was July 23rd). The reason I know all these sad feelings, grief, tears, memories, is because I AM that little ten to eleven year old girl. Who had to put down her puppy just so he would not suffer, and so he would be happy. And who just now, in 2005, can remember everything that has happened. Who wishes he were here with her. And sometimes thinks it was her fault, when I wasn’t, and who wishes there was a cure, and they knew what had happened, to her puppy. I have moved on, only a little. I still cry, and I still miss him. And that’s how I learned, when you love someone as much as I loved that Weimaraner puppy, you never, ever, stop loving them. Even though I am only twelve years old, I already know this, and I have tried to move on. I still have not gotten another dog, but my life isn’t as sad as it was. All I know, is that Silver Smokey Jo, my angel, was a gift from God.