I remember

I wrote this short story two years ago in memory of my childhood dog, who we sadly had to put down. Written in the style of Julie Otsuka's, Diem Perdidi. Writing this helped me come to terms with the loss when I was certain I had let go too quickly.

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I remember my hand feeling numb.

I remember crying in my bed the night before, knowing this would be the last time I held my childhood dog as I slept. I remember when I first saw her, she was standing on the back patio. I remember her being so small I could pick her up.

I remember she used to sleep in my lap and was small enough to fit. I remember that she would always try to pull your socks off your feet and run around with them. I remember she used to love running after the ball, but would never bring it back. I remember she loved to play tug-of-war.

I remember how much she hated jumping into pools. And she always hated baths, only to run around wagging her tail after them.

I remember her always pulling on the leash.

Before we moved, I remember she had such a soft coat. I remember her fur being short and needing a jacket in the winter. I don’t think she liked snow very much. I remember she loved chasing birds and squirrels. I remember she caught a bird out of the air once. I remember she was scared of an owl. 

I remember her running into a screen door because she was so excited one day. We had to replace the screen. I remember she jumped the fence into our neighbor's backyard. I remember they had chickens. The neighbor shot her with a pellet gun. I remember her being okay and only limping. I remember seeing the X-ray of the pellet.

She was lucky to be alive.

I remember when we got chickens, we had to teach her not to chase them. She never really learned. I remember when we got a cat, we had to teach her it was part of our pack. I remember she accepted that. 

I remember her eating our chickens.

After we moved, I remember how she started scratching. She couldn’t go a day. I remember her being so itchy she couldn’t stop. I remember taking her to the vet.

I remember her loving going up to the lake. I bought her a pink life jacket. I remember her being in my kayak with me and lying down as she watched the birds in the water. I remember people thinking she was cute in her jacket. It had a mermaid tail.

I remember how surprised I was when she jumped into the water and started swimming. She never liked the water before. I remember getting back home, and she refused to get in the pool. I never understood why she loved the lake but hated the pool.

I remember taking her to the vet. I remember her having to get shots. I remember her needing pills every morning and night.

I remember at night, she would curl up close to me on the bed. I would never have any space to move. I remember that she used to try and sleep on my pillows and I ended up giving her one of her own. 

She always lay her head on it.

I remember how she was with the new puppy. She was annoyed. I remember how she still played. I remember how I realized how old she was getting. She didn’t have as much energy as she used to.

I remember noticing, one night, that her bones were more pronounced. I remember starting to feed her more. She didn’t always eat. I remember the new puppy stealing her food.

I remember one night waking up when she fell off the bed. And she didn’t get up. I remember turning on the light and going to her. She was lying on the floor. I remember getting her up, and she couldn’t make it outside. She had an accident. I remember crying because I knew.

I remember that she still got playful with the puppy. I remember the puppy nipping at her legs. I remember her always trying to join in on playing, even if she was too tired. I remember her always being strong.

I remember the day I woke up, and my mom told me they were coming. I remember thinking it wasn’t time. That day, she was more energetic than usual. She ate her food. I remember thinking this wasn’t right. I remember crying because she seemed afraid when they came.

I remember when she ran through that screen door, she tore a hole straight through it and just kept going. I remember she would fake injuries for attention. I remember missing Thanksgiving dinner with my family one year because she pretended she couldn’t walk. A trip to the emergency vet clinic proved nothing was wrong.

I remember when they came, we all gathered in the living room. I wondered if she knew why they were there.

I remember that she was losing weight. I remember she wasn’t eating. I remember she couldn’t make it outside. I remember her being so itchy she couldn’t stop. I remember her paws bleeding because she’d licked them. I remember her falling off my bed. I remember her not getting up. I remember crying because I knew.

I remember that when she got shot with the pellet gun by the neighbor, I was so angry and scared. I thought she might die. She didn’t seem to notice the wound. I remember her being completely okay.

I remember thinking that once we moved back, her allergies would go away. I remember it being a week before we moved when they came. I remember thinking that if we had just waited, then she would be okay. I remember knowing that wouldn’t fix everything.

I remember sitting on the floor with her when they arrived. My hand was on her side. I remember feeding her chocolate. She ate it right up. I remember being the one to tell them it was time. I’ve never cried like that before.

I remember thinking she was so cold. I remember how I didn’t want her head to fall off the bed. I remember when I raised my hand, it was numb.

I remember that as a puppy, she would try to pull off your socks. I remember she would chase birds and squirrels but was scared of an owl. I remember that she would always come back if she got off-leash. I remember her curling up next to me at night. I remember giving her her own pillow.

I remember that the morning they came, I was crying. I remember her coming up to me and licking my tears away.

I remember crying because I didn’t want her to go. I remember that I thought it was too soon. I remember thinking that if we just could have moved sooner, she would have been better. I remember knowing that wasn’t true.

I remember she was the best dog I could have asked to grow up with.

I remember my hand feeling numb.