Amber

So, yesterday my family had to make a very hard decision. Amber, our Golden Retriever of 12 years, 6 months, and 6 days, had to be put down. She had had tumors that had been removed but came back and spread from her neck to her jaw and spleen. She wasn't in any pain, but she didn't have enough strength to even make it to her food bowl to eat. My dad took her to the vet to see if anything could be done, but a costly surgery to remove the tumors would not only have put her in unnecessary suffering, but also wouldn't buy her that much more time. So dad made the decision. He went into the room to say his goodbyes, Amber tiredly, but happily, wagging her tail in the anticipation of going home. And then he left the room as Amber went to sleep and never woke up.

It is hard to say goodbye to something that has been a close part of your family for over half of a lifetime. It is painful and heartbreaking. For me, I feel it is even harder because I wasn't there to say goodbye (though I don't know how well I would have handled it being there either). So, after spending the better part of a night crying uncontrollably and inconsolably, I'm trying to remember the wonderful times that I did get to spend with our amazing, goofy, loving dog for the past twelve years.

 How we got Amber: Just a few days after I turned 11, my dad said that his friend was having a wedding and that the Flower Girl's dress needed to be fitted. However, the Flower Girl lived in CA and couldn't be fitted in CT (where we lived at the time), so I, being the same size, would try the dress for her. We drove 2 hours North(ish) until we got to my dad's friend's house. The dress wasn't there yet, so we had to wait. And wait. And wait. I was staring out the window and saw that some of the neighbors were walking their Golden Retrievers and a puppy. I was really worried about getting dirty before trying on the dress, but I begged my dad to let me go play with the puppy. I ran outside, quickly introduced myself and asked the owners if I could play with their dog. As I was rolling around in the yard with this puppy, my dad asked
"So, do you like her?"
"Yes" I replied without looking up, still happily playing with the dog.
"Jessie, that's your puppy"
I swear my heart stopped as I looked up at my dad and then back at this gorgeous little fluff ball.
"Mine?" I asked, happy-tears filling my eyes.
"Yes. Your puppy."
"...no dress?"
"No dress" my dad said, laughing.
I hastily picked up the dog, who was as much as my arms could carry, ran inside, and plopped the puppy down next to my mom and shouted "WE HAVE A PUPPY!". My mom started to cry now, too. She hadn't known either. So we just sat there crying and hugging and smothering this golden ball of fur who was wiggling and squirming the whole time to get in puppy-kisses on our faces. We tossed around names like "Pumpkin" and "Goldie" and "Fluffy" (yes, Fluffy). We ultimately decided on Amber and what a perfect name that was for her.

Amber was so much for us throughout her lifetime. She was my playmate and confidant when I was little. She was by my side throughout recovery from surgery when I was 14, poking her nose curiously and concernedly at the wheelchair I was confined to. She moved with us twice, loving her new homes and chances to explore. She was a friend and a family member and just meant so much to us.

I will miss her. I already do. But I am happy knowing that she had a happy life full of unconditional, mutual love. And that is all we could have wanted for her.

Love you, Amber.