One day, after getting rid of our old dog because he bit, my mom brought my sister and I with her to get a dog at the local animal shelter. After looking at all of the dogs again, my mom chose Jemma. The gorgeous, red and brown collie shepherd mix. After about five minutes of being home, the circus began, with our one year old, Jemma,
peeing on the floor.
Our lives continued for years of my chewed toys, and other problems. She knew how to open the cupboards closest to the floor, which conveniently held the snacks and garbage. We would come home to garbage sprawled all over the house, or perhaps un-popped popcorn kernels. Needless to say, she wasn’t always greeted with kisses when she did this. Through the years, she stopped eating our toys but she continued to eat the garbage until she died.
She was my best friend. No question. She was my childhood dog, who inspired me to be a vet. She had such a good spirit, and even though she did some bad things, we all loved her, and couldn’t stay mad at her. When she was six, and I was eight, we got another dog. At first, Jemma hated this little shih tzu puppy Jack, she stayed upstairs for three months except to eat and go outside. And she never truly loved him, but over time, she tolerated him. They played together and on the occasion, we would catch Jack and Jemma lying down on the couch together.
Around the end, probably four or five months before she left us, she would have days where she wouldn’t be happy, you could just tell she was sad, and the next day, it would be gone. This continued until one day, I was home alone, two days before she died, and my parents were away for the day. It was just me and my sister. I was alone in the basement on my computer, when Jemma came down. She walked around the basement, layed down, and continued to wander around the basement. That night, she couldn’t get up. I carried this overweight, probably 100 pound dog up the stairs, in fear of the inevitable. She barely walked after that, and she didn’t eat. It was a weekend so the vet was closed, so we waited until Monday.
As Jemma got older, she stole our hearts. We were all in love with her, especially me, and I dreaded this day. After all, she was my dream dog, and I never wanted to loose her. On Monday, after spending the past two days constantly by her side, crying, it was time for her to go to the vets. I know a lot about dogs, and I knew that there was nothing the vet could do for my baby. I knew she wasn’t coming home.
Before she left, I told her that she was brave, and she will NEVER be forgotten. I told her how amazing she has made our lives, and it would never be the same without her. about an hour after my parents left, they came home, and with the slightest glimmer of hope that she would make it home, I looked at my dad, and he shook his head. She had been I cried for a long time, until slowly, over time, the pain weakens, and you are only left with good memories.
Jack didn’t know what had happened, and he was happy as usual at first until a week passed. We could tell he was depressed, he knew Jemma his whole life, and that is all he knew. In his mind, his best friend just disappeared, and he had no explanation for that, and we all felt so bad that we couldn’t tell him. A while after Jemma passed, we got a Shih Tzu, named Sophie. She hasn’t begun to fill the gap I feel missing in my life. I miss Jemma, deeply even after six months of her passing. She touched the hearts of everyone she knew, and I will never in my life own a dog like Jemma. Jemma was, and always will be my angel, my baby girl, my Jem. Getting a new pet may bury and wipe the tears, but the loss is still there, and the best friend is never forgotten.
Forever and ever, your best friend,
| Jemma |
| Amelia |