The sun pokes through the window into my dark brown eyes.  Well, not so dark anymore.  I remember when they used to be dark though, when I could go down the stairs without assistance.  When I was small enough to fit in my human’s lap.  When I was young.  However, my eyes are cloudy now.  It gets harder to see the floor below me each day that passes by.  I need help getting outside.  Sometimes I wish I was still a puppy, running around and accidentally going to the bathroom in the house.  I have started to do that again, but this time it is not by accident. I simply cannot go down the stairs into the backyard anymore.  When my humans are not around, I have no other option.   Today is especially difficult.  I do not want to move, or even eat.  But I have to be there for my girls.  

When I was about three, my owners brought this tiny thing into my life.  It looked just like my humans, but was so small I could have mistaken it for one of my toys.  Two years after the first one, there was another.  At first I was confused by their size, but then remembered I was once small too.  Quickly, these girls became my best friends.  I would love going on car rides with them and sticking my head out the window as they grew up.  At times they made me forget I was growing up too.

One place my girls have made me fall in love with is Block Island.  Every summer my humans bring me to this place.  Although we have to take a boat to get there, which is terrifying, it’s always so worth it.  That place is what I hope heaven will be like.  The people there make me feel safe, just as my humans do.  Beaches are the only thing that surround this island I call home.  The salty air hitting the tip of my nose fills me with instant delight.  I feel comfortable there, and have a sense that this is where I belong.  Sometimes, I enjoy splashing in the water with other dogs.  That is something else I have always loved.  Water.  Not lakes or rivers, but beach water is the greatest place to be.  It is somehow always the right temperature for me, and cools me off just the right amount.  Beach water is especially good on Block Island.  Although, the minnows scare me.  I feel small and powerless when they swim by me in their big packs.  I try to ignore them, but I do run away if they get too close.  That is besides the point though.  I have my humans to protect me and it is my job to protect my humans, even if it is only from those evil things called minnows.

I remember this one day on the island. As soon as we walked up the beach path, I bolted for the water. My humans cheered me on with smiles painted across their sunkissed faces.  I wish I could be sunkissed.  I bet it is the best feeling in the world.  That’s what my girls say at least. 

“Go  Murray!!” my girl's mom said, as their dad stood by her. I saw the girls running into the water after me.  I thought for a second, about how fortunate I am to have these people in my life.  They have taught me so much without even knowing it.  This is where I am meant to be.  And these are my humans.

However, I fear they will be there without me this summer. Days are getting longer, and nights are getting shorter.  It is difficult for me to sleep with the constant pain in my paws and at the bends of my back.  I do not want to feel this way anymore.  I wish my humans had the power to let the pain slip from my body as my memories begin to slip from my head.  I am filled with sorrow as my fondest memories of the girls are getting more difficult to recall.  I am beginning to forget when they were tiny little things, crawling around the house, maneuvering around any obstacle in their way.  And I was always there, but I am worried about when I’m not here anymore.  I  just want to be  in my favorite place with my favorite humans forever.  I think today is the day my dream will come true.   

It is still early.  I can hear the rustling of the girls upstairs.  They are getting ready for school.  I have always wondered what school was like.  My humans constantly make jokes about the girls having “bring your dog to school day”, but they are never able to actually bring me.  The best my humans could do was bring me to the bus stop.  I send my girls off to school everyday there. Although, I have not been going as much lately.  All of my favorite things are slipping away.  

My humans put my collar around my neck and attach my leash.  I am brought to the stop across the street.  As I am laying there waiting with my humans and my girls, the air is different.  I know this is goodbye.  

The big yellow bus pulls up and my girls begin to walk away.  Just as they are about to cross the street, their dad yells, 

“Say goodbye to Murray!” They hug me and kiss my head as they run off to school.

 It pains me that my girls have to say goodbye like this.  They think it is a regular goodbye, that they will see me later, and that everything will be alright.  But this is forever.  I can tell by the way my human's voice cracks when talking to the girls.  We both know this is the last time my girls, our girls, will say goodbye to me.  This is the last time they will say anything to me.  My last time seeing them, my last time at the bus stop, my last everything.  

As the bus pulls away, I feel bittersweet.  I am eager to be put out of this pain, but am worried about giving that very thing to my family, however I hope they understand the hurt that has made me suffer for so long will finally depart. That I will be happier this way.  

As I close my eyes for the last time later that day, I imagine being in my favorite place with my favorite people.  We are all playing together on the beach.  The air is warm, but not too hot.  The water is refreshing, but not too cold.  Everything is perfect.

I am most regretful that I will not be able to see my girls grow up any longer.  I will not be fed breakfast every morning by their dad, and fed dinner every night by their mom.  Never again will there be a time when I whine and drool for the girls to give me food under the table.  They always did. But never again will I feel the constant pain that I felt everyday leading up to the end.  Today, my family made the right decision.  They saved me.

I am still working on accepting the fact I will never be able to see my humans again.  Although I am not physically there for them anymore, I am still here.  And I always will be.