Goodbye old friend

The little bundle of cute beagle fox terrier was bouncing around in the front yard nine years ago, and now I heard ten words that altered my state of mind so much that I couldn’t look at our wonderful Moka without tearing up and having my nose run. “Rob, we are going to put Moka to sleep tomorrow.” The ten blows to my gut crippled me, sprawled me face first onto the couch, and changed the entire complexion of my once decent day.
Earlier that day I hung out with friends for a few hours after school. When I arrived home I walked downstairs to see my parents watching television.
“Grab a plate upstairs Rob.” My mom said.
“Awesome, they saved me dinner.” I thought.
I bounced upstairs smelling the deliciously pungent aroma of Italian salad dressing and the warming sense of pork placed neatly on a serving plate. I shoveled down a bowl of salad and tossed a couple of pieces of pork in my mouth along with a sprinkle of salt. Who needs plates anyways? After sufficiently feeding myself I proceeded back downstairs to see my parents since I hadn’t been home much the past week. However, this time when I walked downstairs I slammed face first into a visual wall of my dad kneeling awkwardly by my mom. Her face was buried in her hands while my dad was rubbing her arm, trying to sooth her yet he was almost as visibly upset. I immediately I knew what it was, but I wouldn’t believe it until I heard it.
“Rob…” my mom started sobbingly, “We. Are. Going to.” She took a pause not able to keep a stutter of a tear out of her speech. She gathered her breath for a quick fluid sentence before bursting into a cry of silence. “Rob, we are going to have to put Moka to sleep tomorrow…”
She had said what I already knew yet it still wounded deeply. I found myself on the couch for what seemed like hours, and eventually had to wade through a pool of tears to make it to the bathroom to wipe my face dry since my sleeves were sufficiently soaked. After I dried my face the only evidence of crying was the bright red streaks in my eyes and my sanguine visage. I had moved on to the silent remembrance step, and just laid down next to the dog, since it was still a day before she would be taken from me.
I slowly stroked her soft short fur making sure not to corrupt its perfect texture with a tear. Her breathing was forced and irregular, a byproduct of the cancerous tumor and artificially enlarged breast which used to be so defined and fit. I couldn’t contain the tears, and they made their second debut after seeing her.  Her departure being so tangible brought on a paroxysm of grief. I embraced my companion and allowed my face to run with tears again.
Sleeping that night was terrible to say the least, my mom being as close as she was to Moka laid a bed down next to her on the first floor so as to not make Moka walk up any stairs or move anywhere to cause her discomfort.
When I woke up the next morning to go to school I went through my usual routine of shower, brushing my teeth, getting dressed, grabbing my lunch, but this time before leaving I spent about 15 minutes with Moka. I gave her a hug before I left, already starting to tear up.  I walked out my door, droplets of grief and remembrance still adorning my countenance. As I got in my car, I shakily tried to stick the key in the ignition. After I accomplished this I started to drive with my vision a blur, however the windshield-wipers had no effect clearing it up, only time would do that. The worst feeling was walking out that door, knowing I was basically saying goodbye for good… but at least I got to say it.