My love for animals comes from deep place within. My mother is the one who showed my how animals love.
My mom was pregnant with me when she got her first puppy. She was a Golden mix named Sandy. My mom had a difficult time loving me, but was able to share her love with Sandy, who then passed it down to me. Where I in turn learned to be loved by the love of animals.
Sandy was my mom's dog. I helped in the care, but the bond was always with my mom. Sandy was my first dog walking experience. My mom said there was no way I could walk her. At about 7 years old, I told her I could and I did. With Sandy dragging all the way down the road. (sound familiar?) My mom was probably laughing her butt off the whole time. Thirty-some years later I am still trying to change that walking pattern.
Sandy had a horrible fear of loud noises. Thunderstorms and fireworks were a nightmare for her. She would actually hide in the bathtub of all places. As she got older her tolerance for the racket declined sharply and she would be a complete basket case.
A jackhammer had been running all day in our neighborhood. I had just gotten home from school, I was around 11 or so at the time. My mom had an appointment to go to. Sandy was shaking from head to toe. She had been panicky all day and was getting weaker by the minute. I remember hiding in the bathroom, silently crying and thinking she was going to die.
When my mom left Sandy laid down and I held her until her last breath. It was that simple and over that quick. I have never forgotten that day, how Sandy looked and the peace that came over her after such a tumultuous day.
I don't know if my mother thought Sandy was going to die when she left, but I don't think she ever got over coming home and finding her gone.
When Sandy died, so did the only connection of our love. My mother and I were never the same after that. Though Sandy is the one thing we still hold dear in our hearts.
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