Saturday, 28 January 2012
01:21:29 PM (GMT)
Woodie died when I was four.
Well, actually, the vets had to put him to sleep.
He was possibly the best dog a little girl could have. When I came home for the
first time when I was a baby, I think he knew he had to protect and care for me. We
were instant friends. I loved him, and he loved me. He would stand guard while I was
on the floor playing. He lay still and calm, even if I was hurting him on accident.
When I cried, he got very concerned. He always stood by me.
Then he started having joint problems. He whined and cried from pain day and night,
but he still tried to stick by my side when he could. My dad had to carry him most
places he needed to go eventually. It was heartbreaking.
I was asleep when he went to the vets for the last time. I had a dream that when my
dad came back, he told me Woodie died. I cried and cried. It seemed so real, but my
dad said he never went in my room to tell me anything. I remember that dream very
well, even years later.
I was sad and lonesome for a long while after that, even though we got other dogs.
I knew no dog would ever replace Woodie. I will love him till the end of my life,
just like he did with me.
But then things started to change.
It all started in fourth grade.
One early morning before school, when it was still dark outside, I was downstairs
all by myself. My mom was still in bed, and my dad and brother had left already.
I opened the freezer to get some frozen waffles, and I saw something moving in the
dining room out of the corner of my eye, behind the freezer. It looked like a
Labrador retriever, just it was all white. It was sitting there looking at me, with a
very familiar face. With a sudden twinge, I realized it looked like... WOODIE! No, it
didn't just look like Woodie, somehow I knew it was Woodie. I got a very happy,
excited feeling inside me, and yet calm and secure at the same time. Then I closed
the freezer door and looked directly at Woodie, but there was nothing there. He was
I felt very disappointed and upset. I always wanted Woodie back, because I felt that
I didn't know him well enough because I had very few memories about him, and most of
those are from my mom's scrapbooks.
Later, I figured out that Woodie came to watch over and protect me, like he did when
I was little. I wanted more than anything to see him again, and that he wouldn't
disappear when I did.
Over the months, I waited. Then those months turned to years. But I never forgot
about Woodie. Finally, I felt like giving up. He hasn't come again, and we were about
to move. I was sure he wouldn't come with us to the new house. But my mind told me to
keep holding on. You just never know.
Last edited: 6 December 2012