by Alicia Taylor
When I was six years old my parents gave me a cute little Yorkshire Terrier. My father named him Bubba Cakes after the nickname he gave my uncle. Bubba was the first dog and only dog I have ever had. I would dress him him up in my doll's clothes and brush him untill his coat shined.
When I was eight we moved to Aiken, South Carolina. Bubba loved to run around in the backyard and would almost run away from you when you took him for walks.
In late 1996, when I was 11, my parents and I noticed that Bubba was acting strange. He would run into things, he didn't want to leave the driveway when we tried to take him for a walk, and he wasn't as agile as he used to be. My mom took him to the vet and we found out he was going blind. We were given some medicine that might help and I prayed to God to give my little dog his sight back. Then he would be able to run and play, and stare through the bathroom window and and bark at all the squirls he saw.
Bubba kept getting worse. He couldn't get up off of my parent's bed to use the bathroom, and we started to hand feed him. We knew this could not be from his going blind, so my mom drove him to Charlette, NC, to see a special vet. This vet said he had a brain tumor. The tumor was pushing on his retinas so he couldn't see. We could have a costly surgery done, but a good outcome was slim. We knew Bubba would have to be put down soon.
Those last few months were terrible. When I got home from school on March 10, 1997, I found my mother on the back porch holding Bubba. Tears were streaming down here face. She said the five dreaded words,"It's time to say goodbye." I started to cry. We took pictures of Bubba on his last day. We put a birthday hat on him since his sixth birthday was in a few weeks.
When my father got home from work we drove to the vet. My mom held Bubba in her lap while the vet gave him the shot. I held Bubba for the last time in my life before the vet took him away.
I have no brothers or sisters. Bubba was like my little brother. I wonder what would have happened if our vet would have caught the tumor earlier. I wonder if Bubba would still be here with us today. Now even though it has been a few years it still hurts. I know the pain will never go away. Sometimes I still expect to see his face our hear his bark. I'm going into the ninth grade and hardly any of my friends understand what I went through. Some say, "Oh, he was just a dog." But he wasn't. I was so special, and I know that one day I will see him again on the Rainbow Bridge.