Sad Love Story That White Puppy with Black Spots

It hurts...every time. I try to be strong but once I'm alone is when I truly let it all out. I cry so hard, it hurts. This one made me cry even more than the rest. Want to know what happened? I'll tell you.

Just another day, wake up, eat, then probably back to bed. I know, I'm lazy as fuck. Though before I go back, there is someone I must feed first. The puppy. That white puppy with black spots, who is too small and weak to feed herself. She's always cold.

Her mother can't really do anything, though sometimes it seems that she doesn't want anything to do with her and only takes care of the little one's older sister who was in much better health. Everynight I let her sleep with me, though I can never sleep without worrying that I might squish her. My grandma and I have been taking turns feeding her warm milk from a baby bottle throughout the 12 days she's been here.

I sit with my little cousins and watch cartoons with them. I pick up the little spotted puppy and wrap her up in the small blanket I let her have. It's very soft and warm...but it only makes her a little warmer. One of my cousins looks at me and says, "That puppy is gonna die."

I look at her with a face that says 'Don't say that.' I ask her who told her that and she says her mom did. I roll my eyes. I always try to be positive with these things.

Later, I put the puppy back and head to my room. My grandma comes in and asks if I want to go to the store. I always say yes. When we come back, I quickly put the things I got in my room and head back to help get the rest.

After, my cousins, little brother, and I go swimming for about an hour. We come back in and change but I walk in the living room where my grandparents are talking. My grandma reaches for the box the puppies are in and picks up the spotted one.

"Ay, ya se murio," she says and lays the puppy down on the armrest. I sat down and looked at the little body, not believing what I just heard. I pick up the puppy and put her in my lap. She's not sleeping. She's not moving. She's not breathing. She was really dead.

I start to tear up and my grandparents just stare. I start crying, accepting she was dead but not fully. My big brother comes in and asks with an attitude, "Now what happened?"

No one answers. One of my cousins comes back from changing and asks what's wrong. I tell him with a heavy heart and teary-eyed that the puppy was dead. He only smiles and asks all of us individually if I was lying. We say no.

He starts playing on his tablet. My grandma says he's trying to not accept it. My other cousin comes in and does the same. My cousins and brother leave again. I still have the puppy in my lap, now wrapped up the her blanket. I cry even more as my grandma tells me to let it all out and that we'll bury her. I start bawling as she pats my back. She says we'll put her in a shoe box. That I can choose where she should be buried.

I pick up the puppy and walk to my room, telling my grandma I'll be back. I put the puppy on my bed, still crying. I look around my room and decide on a red metal box with a design of two red birds on branches looking at each other on the lid. I take out all the things from inside the box and turn back to the puppy.

I take her off the blanket and move her to the side. I fold the small blanket to fit inside the box and place the body inside, making sure that she was comfortable. I have respect for the dead. I fold the blanket over her body to cover it all up. I place a small ball inside the box as well, so that she could play with it.

I go with my grandpa to the backyard and tell him where to dig. As he makes the hole, I stare at the sun. My big brother makes a joke and I get angry at him but say nothing. My aunt tells him to be quiet.

Once my grandpa was done, he tells me to put the box in. I start crying again, the hot tears burning my face. Before I put it in, I think of what to call her. I decided on Pinta, since that was what everyone described her as. I put the box in and he asks if I want to cover the box. I shake my head. It would only make me cry even more. Heh, I'm such a crybaby.

He covers up the hole and says we'll get a cross for it tomorrow. I nod and head back to the house. Even now as I'm writing this, I'm still crying. I started over thinking things and now I'm crying again. Every time I look at my bed now, I wonder, 'Who's going to sleep with me now