Thread for "Labyrinthine" stories! Please refrain from posting until both stories are up! Thank you for your cooperation!
This is dedicated to my dog Nelly, who died on December 3, 2011. ~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~ Labyrinthine I go up the reddish-brown brick path leading up to the door. I slide my backpack off my right shoulder, place it on the ground, unzip the front pocket, and take out a pair of keys. I take the larger key and slide into the keyhole of the big, brown doors to my house. The door unlocks. I open the door and quickly take a few steps back, my dog is about to come. She is a giant schnauzer. A big, black, sweet, caring, gorgeous animal. When standing on all fours, her back reaches my waist. She's coming. I crouch down on my toes and spread my arms out wide. Nelly is coming as fast as she can, ignoring her limp and wagging her tail. Her mouth opens so I could see her teeth as she smiles, happy that I am finally home. Finally she reaches me and I give her a huge, two-minute hug, all the while being careful to avoid her cancer tumors. Nelly is 11 years old. For a dog of her size that's pretty old...she has outlived all her brothers and sisters, but unfortunately, I am terrified that her life is also coming to a close. Nelly has torn her ACL in both hind legs, has had a surgery to remove her front toe, which at one point was infected, and now has tumors all over her body. My dog, a sister who I have known since I was 3 is slowly dying. ~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~ I pick up my backpack, go inside, and start doing my homework. At around 7pm my parents call me downstairs for dinner. When I reach the kitchen, I notice something unusual. My parents are both sitting at the table with sad looks on their faces. "Sit down, we need to talk," My mother says. I listen to her and sit down. Once I'm seated she continues to speak. "We need to talk about Nelly. She is really old and not feeling well." I instantly know what my parents mean. We need to decide wether or not Nelly needs to be put down. ~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~ After our conversation I head to my room and plop down on my bed. My mind is a jumble. Should we or should we not do it? Is it time? If it is, how do we know? Is she actually suffering? Or is she happy? She definitely is at least somewhat happy, I mean she smiles and comes for hugs. Yes, she has difficulties walking. Yes, she is covered by tumors with pus, but still, is this the right thing to do? My mind is like a treacherous labyrinth. One thing seems right, but in a few seconds I doubt it. I always have a reason to contradict my thoughts. Is this even ethical? Who are we to decide when it is time for her to move on? But at the same time, if she is suffering and in pain, aren't we obligated to help her? Yes, of course we must help her, but, is ending her life the right way to do this? Doesn't she still enjoy at least some aspects of life? Who gave us the right to deprive her of these few joyous moments? What should we do? I love her, I don't have any memories without her. I was too young to remember anything before her. How will I live without her? I don't know anything without her. I will never be able to move on. I can't live without her. There has to be something wrong with this, after all, if a human were in this situation, they wouldn't get put down. Why is a dog so different? Because she can't speak? She is a part of my family. I love her. She is a huge part of my life. My dog. My middle sister. How could I possibly justify this act? But again, she is suffering. She can hardly get up, sometimes she needs help. Walking is difficult for her. She is constantly loosing blood and excreting pus from her tumors. Everything is difficult! How is it possible to live a normal life if everything you do is restricted? Each day you have take medicines, wash wounds, rely on others to help you get around. What kind of life is that? What should we do? Is putting her down cruel? Or is it necessary? I spend the remainder of the night lost in these miserable thoughts and eventually drift off to sleep. ~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~ Approximately a week later: I wake up early in the morning on Saturday December 3, 2011. It is time do the thing I have been dreading all week. ~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~