Several significant and crucial moments in my life involving animals or death? There has been no shortage of deaths in my family, including animals and people. The first thing that comes to mind when I think about animals or death was when my 12 year old dog Makana died. It was absolutely heartbreaking, especially remembering the day she was put down still brings tears to my eyes. Say no to plagiarism. Get a tailor-made essay on "Why Violent Video Games Shouldn't Be Banned"? Get an original essay I remember being dropped off from school early and my dad driving straight to my aunt's house, I got out of the car and saw her lying on the floor just looking around. The sight of her in pain immediately made me burst into tears. When she noticed I was coming she tried to get up, her hips couldn't support her weight and she fell to the ground. I heard her whimper and let out a small moan of what I thought was irritation. I ran towards her and immediately lay down on the cold, hard ground next to her. I began to stroke her fur in an attempt to comfort her, with each stroke pieces of her fur came out. As I lowered my hands I felt the cause of her pain, the tumor growing on her chest. It was hard and big, you could say it looked like a kid's football. The ground smelled of dust and mud, while Makana smelled of her favorite rose shampoo. I don't know how long I stayed next to her crying, listening to her cries. She was my first dog. The dog I played hide and seek with for hours, the dog I watched grow from a very cute puppy to a beautiful guardian (she was my protector). Makana was my baby, if I was crying she would. run up to me and lick my face until I start laughing. when my parents were going through a divorce she didn't want to leave me, she took naps with me in my fire tent and was always excited to play hide and seek. Finally it was time to go to the vet's office to put her to sleep. The car ride was filled with the sound of my tears and nothing else. I took her to the office myself as tears streamed down my face. While the vet was doing the exam I clung to the hope that in some miracle he could remove the tumor and give us more time with her. After a few minutes of silence my hopes were dashed and the waterworks resumed, the vet explained to my parents that Makana's tumor was inoperable and that she would only continue to suffer if we kept her. In his last minutes of life, the many happy memories of our time together replayed in my head. My best friend would no longer lick my face when I was sad or play hide and seek with me, she would go to heaven. He then started explaining the process of putting her to sleep while I held her paw hoping it was all a bad dream. At the time of my parents' divorce I don't remember spending much time with my mother. I was always with my father or at my grandparents' house. My father's sister lived with my grandparents and had spent a lot of time with me when I was finished. I was asking to spend the night at their house because I wanted to hang out with Aunt Julie. He made me feel like I was his daughter. Aunt Julie was my favorite, I would sit outside her room for hours waiting for her to say I could come in. I loved being with her because she was always so excited to see me and spend time with me. His room smelled like nail polish and plumeria, a strange combination, right? she had a shelf full of all different types of nail polishes and cute gems to put on a finger. I was always trying to be sneaky and take a flush forpainting my nails, but she would always catch me in the act and say "don't try to be sneaky with me, miss", followed by her throwing me on the bed and tickling me until I said I wouldn't try again. Her passing didn't have much of an effect on me when I was little, I had no idea she was gone. I think I finally realized what I had lost when I was about 10 years old, I remember asking my dad "why doesn't Aunt Julie come home early to visit me anymore?" and ask my grandmother why she didn't pick me up at the park or let me pretend to drive in the garage like she used to. Now that he's different I look back and think about all the toys he used to bring me or how much he made me laugh and I miss him so much. I have this wall dedicated to her in my room and it's just photos of her and all her friends, all the adventures in the places she's traveled and it's kind of my way of staying in touch with her. Everything she experienced I put on my bucket list, I have a list of places she traveled when she was in Europe and where she went in the US and one day I hope to have the chance to recreate her photos. Looking back at the photos of his funeral, I have no memory of that day. My father has told me for the past two years that she died during complications from surgery, but I don't remember attending her funeral or packing her things. I wish I had understood more when I was younger, I wish I had understood that she was gone and that my best friend, Aunt Julie, was no longer here. It's weird now, since sophomore year I wanted to live my life like she wanted to get her own piercings and wanted to make her proud. I recently found his trunk full of photos and letters from friends and things he hung in his room. Reading them brought tears to my eyes because they all had something nice to say about her. He had several collages decorated with our photos, looking through them definitely made me smile. There was this set of photos, the first photos were of me on a swing and the next two shots were taken by me, they were very close to his face but his smile was so big that just looking at him could make you smile. I just hope I've made her proud and I hope one day I get to experience all the adventures she's had. On Halloween 2015, that's when I got my first dog since Makana passed. My dad had texted me earlier in the day telling me we were going to go see some puppies on the North Shore, key word look. I convinced him to have my best friend come over in hopes that she could help me convince him to let us go home with the dog. The drive to the North Shore was filled with singing and laughter, I think it was so loud because my sister and I were so excited about the possibility of getting a dog. After an hour of driving we had arrived at what looked like a farm, it definitely wasn't the cleanest, there was mud everywhere not to mention the smell of poop. There were at least 10 little dogs running around. The farm had a one room house where the boy who sold the dogs slept, outside there were trees, mud and a large area for the puppies to roam. Off to the side was a small food area outside filled with snacks and dog food. I remember my dad being skeptical about the dog's health because it wasn't the cleanest environment, but the owner assured us of the dogs' health and really wanted to make sure they went to a loving home. If I remember correctly, he wanted to make sure that these dogs went to a family that would give them lots of love and not cut off their ears and throw them into a dog fighting ring. He only gave them food without corn and wheat, he fed those large slabs that he went to collect..