Chelsea was a sheltie who came into my life when I was just 5 or 6 years old. I remember the first day I got her. She ran around the house so quickly and swift. When I finally got a hold of her, she swept into my arms and gave me kisses all over my face.
I knew that this was the dog for me.
Chelsea grew up with me. When I would come home, I would open the door from outside so that I’d feed her. She ran around the coffee table two times and rub against her favorite carpet on our living room floor. As I prepared her food, she would always wait by my side until I finished. She’d loved attention and she never bit or snapped at anyone. She’d kiss anyone who would take
the time to pet her.
My whole family was in love with Chelsea. Our whole family would love when she came on camping trips with us. Every time I walked Chelsea, people gave her compliments. They said she was the most beautiful sheltie they’d ever seen, and
they would bend down to pet her.
This past year, Chelsea developed a tumor bigger than a golf ball next to her groin area. We immediately took her to the vet hospital to get it removed. After surgery, Chelsea went back to normal. She had to wear one of those cones around her head. My sister and I laughed as she would sometimes bump into walls.
Soon, Chelsea was off the cone and her usual, playful self.
A few months later, around February 21st, 2003, I noticed she wasn’t her usual self. She sat in a new spot in our backyard. When I went outside to bring her inside, she wasn’t as happy to see me. She dragged her body inside the house and plopped herself on the floor and rested. She didn’t eat her food. Then, she stood up and started gagging.
I knew something was terribly wrong.
We took her to the vet on February 23 and the doctor gave us the worst news ever. They took x-rays and found that she was in pain whenever she sat down because she had so much going on in her stomach. She said that Chelsea was bleeding from the inside of her stomach. We also found out that she had yet another tumor growing in the same area. The vet said that whatever caused the tumor might have spread to the rest of her body. We had two choices: To let her live in terrible pain for three months, which was how long she was expected to live.
Or, to put her to sleep.
The doctor left my family and I in the room to make the devastating choice to put her to sleep. I was in complete devastation. I did not stop crying and balling my eyes out. My family told me to get a hold of myself as they were crying too.
How could they say that?
Finally, the vet brought Chelsea in for the last time we’d ever see her again and I cried even harder. I looked into her glossy eyes as I pet her soft fur and she had the look of pain in her eyes. She had the look of “Just let me go” in her eyes. I cried as I pet her for what was the last time I’d ever see Chelsea. When the vet came in to take Chelsea, I gave her a kiss on her head and said goodbye to Chelsea, the dog that had been apart of my life for over 11 years.
I am soon to be 16, and when I think of that, I think of Chelsea because she grew up with me. I know she is in heaven playing in the grass fields with her mom and dad. It has been the hardest thing ever to let go of her, as I am still not over her death.
Chelsea will always be remembered in my heart.
I love you Chelsea,
| Amanda |