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Anonymous
Damn, I remember my first dog...
She died two years ago at the age of 16 years old, and we were more or less prepared to her death, as she had more and more difficulties to breathe, she had cataract and all that, plus heart troubles.
Really, it would have been fucking hard to kill her. As long as I can remember (In my 6-7 years old), she always was there and we loved her a lot. She was a solid dog, she had given twice puppies, she had some share of operations, we told ourselves going in holidays "Maybe she wont past this one" a lot of times.
Weirdly, when the vet said "Sorry, she couldn't go on with the operation this time, she didn't wake from the anesthesiant", it was like if I was totally prepared for it, it did sadden me, but I didn't cry.
The moment when I cryed, it's when we burried her. Before, it's like if I really couldn't, but seeing her cold and lifeless at the moment to put her body into the ground, I started to cry out loud. (Which I couldn't remember how long since I cryed in fact...)
In fact, writing this post, I remembered it all and cryed. Damn. It was long since it didn't happened.
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