Puppy Love

It all started when I was two. Before I was born, my parents had an adorable black standard poodle named Reggie. Luckily, when I was born he was still with us. 1

He was 14 when he died. I know, he lived a long good life, but I was two, and according to my parents, I was crying. Before he died, he was very sick and on medication. My parents knew his life was coming to an end, but not so quickly. I couldn't have known this, nor could my young-at-the-time brother. 2

Since I was six, at least three times a year, I would ask my parents, "can I have a dog?", and then came the typical response --"it's too much responsibility, too much money, and too much time". And then came my response, you know, "I'll take care of it, and give you some money". But of course, at six, I didn't have much money. $50, maybe! But certainly not enough to help take care of a poodle. Plus, our family goes on vacation a lot, so we would have to pay for someone to take care of the poodle while we were gone.3

I have always wanted a pet, even if it wasn't a poodle. One day, we were sitting outside at a restaurant, when suddenly, my dad showed me something that caught my attention. 4

"Hey, Elizabeth, look over there!" my dad yelled.5

"Wow, that parrot is beautiful!" I said in response.6

Then, my dad and I got into a long talk about how maybe we could get one, which got me incredibly excited. A pet parrot? Cool!7

I woke up early the next morning and did tons of research on parrots. I made a folder full of information for my parents to look at. But, of course, my mom said she hated parrots, so there goes my new pet.8

When I was 13, all of that changed. My parents sat me down in the den for a talk.9

"Now, Elizabeth, I know you have wanted this for a long time, so here it is!"10

My dad and mom pulled up a cage off the side of the sofa that wasn't visible to me, and unhooked a latch. Suddenly, a little puppy jumped out of the cage and began to lick my face. I could see the smile on my parents face in between each face lick. I held the puppy in my lap.11

It was a little yorkie, only six months old. She could fit in a teacup! She was the cutest puppy I had ever seen. I decided to name her Daisy.12

Every day, I would come home after school and play with Daisy and take her on walks. She was so much fun to play with! She was worth all of the waiting!13

One day, when I was 15, I came home to find my mom weeping on the sofa. Of course, I wasn't going to sit there and watch my mom cry. So, being the good daughter I am, I asked: "what's wrong?"14

The next minute, there was a puddle of tears from my mom and I. I had to ask where my dad was, just so I could know.15

"He's out looking for her right now. He's also putting up flyers to see if anyone can find her." She said while tears were streaming down her cheek.16

After days and days of waiting, we finally got a call from a woman named Roberta Jimal.17

"Is this the Gilen household?" the woman on the phone asked.18

"Yes," said my mom with her hopes up, "this is the Gilen household. Who am I speaking with?"19

"Roberta Jimal. I live about 2 blocks away, and I couldn't help but notice the lost puppy flyers, since I saw a puppy that looked just like the one in the picture."20

"You found our puppy?" my mom said happily.21

"Yes, I did."22

"Can I come pick it up?" my mom asked.23

"Unfortunately not, Mrs. Gilen."24

"Why not?" my mom said, almost frustrated.25

"Because, the dog I saw was lying on the street, crushed."26

"Thank you for telling us." my mom said, beginning to tear up, "where is she, the street name."27

"She's at the intersection of Kiplo and Hilden."28

"Thank you Ms. Jimal." 29

When my mom broke the news to my dad and me, the house overflowed with tears. My parents and I couldn't stop crying. We called my brother, at college at the time, who cried over the webcam. He didn't have much time to play with Daisy, but it was still his puppy.30

My parents drove me to the intersection where she was. I couldn't even look. All I know is that my parents took her body in a plastic bag, the best thing we could find at the time.31

Much more crying went on during the short car ride home. We buried her in a pet cemetary nearby so we could always visit her.32

The last time I saw my Daisy, I threw the dirty tennis ball into my backyard for her to catch. I remember sitting down in my backyard and cuddling her. I remember everything so clearly, for it was only yesterday. 33

Every month, my family will go to the pet cemetary to visit her body and wish her the best in heaven, where she truly did belong. R.I.P. my little yorkie, Daisy.