Different important and crucial moments in my life involving animals or death? There has been no shortage of deaths in my family, including animals and people. The first thing that comes to mind when I think of animals or death is the death of my 12-year-old dog Makana. It was absolutely heartbreaking, especially remembering the day she was put down still brings tears to my eyes. Say no to plagiarism. Get a tailor-made essay on “Why Violent Video Games Should Not Be Banned”? Get an original essay I remember being pulled out of school early and my dad was heading straight to my aunt's house, I got out of the car and saw her lying on the ground looking all around Me. The sight of her in pain immediately made me cry. When she noticed me coming, she tried to get up, her hips couldn't support her weight and she fell back to the ground. I heard him moan and let out a small moan of what I thought was irritation. I ran over to her and immediately lay down on the cold, hard floor next to her. I started stroking her fur to try to comfort her, with each stroke pieces of her fur came out. Lowering my hands, I felt the cause of his pain, the tumor growing on his chest. It was hard and big, you could say it was like a children's soccer ball. The floor smelled of dust and mud, while Makana smelled of her favorite rose shampoo. I don't know how long I lay next to her crying, listening to her moan. He was my first dog. The dog I played hide and seek with for hours, the dog I watched grow from the cutest little puppy to a beautiful guardian (she was my protector.) Makana was my baby, if I cried, she would. runs up to me and licks my face until I start laughing. When my parents were going through a divorce, she didn't leave my side, she took naps with me in my firefighter's tent and she was always excited to play hide and seek. Finally, it was time to go to the vet to put him to sleep. The car ride was filled with the sound of my tears and nothing else. I carried her into the office myself as tears streamed down my face. As the vet performed his exam, I held out hope that, by some miracle, he might remove the tumor and give us more time with her. After a few minutes of silence, my hopes were dashed and the water lines started again, the vet explained to my parents that Makana's tumor was inoperable and she would continue to suffer as long as we held her. During his last minutes of life, the many happy memories of our time together played over and over in my head. My best friend was no longer going to lick my face when I was sad or play hide and seek with me, she was going to heaven. He then began to explain the process of putting him to sleep while I held his paw hoping it was all just a bad dream. At the time of my parents' divorce, I don't remember spending much time with my mother. I was always with my father or with my grandparents. My father's sister lived with my grandparents and she spent a lot of time with me when I was done. I used to ask to stay the night at their house because I wanted to spend time with Aunt Julie. She made me feel like I was her own child. Aunt Julie was my favorite, I used to sit outside her room for hours until she said I could come in. I loved being with her because she was always veryexcited to see me and spend time with me. Her room smelled of nail polish and plumerias, a weird combo, right? she had a counter filled with all kinds of nail polish and cute little jewelry that you put on a finger. I would always try to be sneaky and grab a color to paint my own nails, but she would always catch me in the act and say "don't try to be sneaky with me, little lady", followed by her telling me throwing on the bed and tickling me. me until I said I wouldn't try again. Her death didn't impact me much when I was little, I didn't know she was gone. I think I finally realized what I had lost when I was about 10 years old, I remember asking my dad "why doesn't Aunt Julie come home early to visit me?" and ask my grandmother why she didn't pick me up from the park or let me pretend to drive in the garage like before. Now that it's different, I look back and think of all the toys she brought me or how much she made me laugh and I miss it so much. I have this wall dedicated to her in my room and it's just pictures of her. and all her friends, all the adventures in the places she's traveled to and it's kind of my way of staying connected with her. Everything she went through, I put it on my bucket list, I have a list of places she traveled to when she was in Europe and where she went to in the United States and one day I hope have the chance to recreate his photos. Looking at the photos from his funeral, I have no memory of that day. My father has told me over the past two years that she died from surgical complications, but I don't remember attending her funeral or packing her things. I wish I understood more when I was younger, I wish I understood that she was gone and that my best friend Aunt Julie was no longer there. It's weird now, since second grade I've wanted to live my life like she did, wanted to have the same piercings as her and wanted to make her proud. Recently, I found her trunk filled with photos and letters from friends, as well as items she had hanging in her room. Going through them brought tears to my eyes because everyone had something amazing to say about her. She had several collages decorated with photos of us, looking through them definitely made me smile. There was this series of photos, the first photos were of me on a swing and the next two photos were taken by me, they were very close to his face but his smile was so big that just looking at him could make you make you smile. I just hope I made her proud and I hope one day I get to experience all the adventures she had. Halloween 2015 was when I got my first dog since Makana passed away. My dad had texted me earlier in the day to say we were going to go see puppies on the North Shore, keyword search. I convinced him to let my best friend come with me in hopes that she could help me convince him to let us come home with the dog. The ride to North Shore was filled with singing and laughter, I think it was so loud because my sister and I were so excited about the possibility of having a dog. After an hour of driving we arrived at what looked like a farm, it certainly wasn't the cleanest, there was mud everywhere not to mention it smelled like poop. There were at least 10 small dogs running around. The farm had a one room house where the guy who sold the dogs slept, outside there were trees, mud and a large..