Death is a turd

The world can be cruel. It can be cruel in its own funny way that you laugh at and then feel bad for laughing and realized that you're crying. The world has twisted people so much that hit and runs are much more common every day. The events you are about to read is a true encounter about a boy who witnessed the worlds twisted ways. I am that boy and this is how it happened as I remember it.

She, Sami, was a German Shepherd and black Labrador mix but, you wouldn't know that by looking at her. She looked like a midget German Shepard no sign of the lab in her at all. We received her from a friend of my momma. I was very fond of her and she was my favorite of the 11 dogs we had at the time. I taught her to sit shake and roll over. She was very playful and always wanted to play in the mornings when I went to feed the 9 outside dogs. She was always a little more aggressive in the winter time especially when it came to food and the other dogs. This was her ultimate downfall.

The last time she got in a fight with a dog it was our smallest. Her name was Tinker bell and she was the runt of the litter my aunts dog had. My uncle, who quite honestly is a jerk, was going to “euthanize”, or shoot it in the head; it's like being in stake I offered to take care of her. I naturally felt protective of her when I brought her home. She was much smaller than her sister, who turned out to be a large black lab.

I had forgotten to feed the dogs that mourning, it was a weekend and I slept in, so I fed them around 2. I went in the pen and was hoping that Sami would be nice to the other dogs. When I went in she wanted to play so, I played with her for a minute and then went to filling their bowls. I finished and then went to filling their water bucket. I ...

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...I stayed and apologized again and said she was a good dog. Then I got up when up from to get the two by four that was up there and made a cross. It took me an hour but, when I was done I had carved a beautiful cross for Sami with her name carved in fancy letters and colored by my little sister. I put it in the ground at the head of her grave, went back up frond and grabbed two flowers from the flowerbed careful to get the roots and planted them at the the foot of her grave. I then went in to cry myself to sleep.

I blamed myself for what happened at that time. I eventually realized that it doesn't matter who’s fault it is. She's in a better place now. I like to imagine that she’s in a place with the other 6 dogs we lost and with my Great grandma and my grandpa. A place where she doesn't feel like she has to fight for her food and she always has someone to play with.