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Lucky, the not so lucky dog
When my sister and I were younger we talked my parents into letting us get a dog. It was extremely hard to do; we had to promise to take care of him and we had to agree that he had to be an outside dog. But, because we wanted a puppy so bad, we didn't care what it took.
We got him from this farm. I remember going to look at him; there were numerous puppies to choose from, in all colors, but we chose him. We named him Lucky, ironically. He is a black Labrador. The sad part is, he's not so lucky.
He's twelve years old, lives outside, and is exceedingly out of health. Remember the part where my sister and I were supposed to take good care of him? We slacked off on that in the long run. You talk about regrets...I regret that every day of my life.
He can barely walk, he has trouble breathing...
He used to be such a cool dog. Sure, as a puppy he ate ALL of our stuff when we let him in the garage and such. I must have counted four pairs of shoes he ate of mine. I didn't care though, I still loved him.
I remember this one time I was taking him for a walk. I was probably eleven or something like that. It was sort of rainy out and Lucky liked to walk you, instead of you walking him. I don't know how it happened, really. I want to say he saw a rabbit or something and took off after it...DRAGGING me behind. I literally was on the ground, being drug by Lucky. I held on really tight though, because I didn't want him to run away.
Anyway, my dad told us today it's almost time...My dad takes good care of him. I mean, he doesn't take him on walks, but he's the one that feeds him and gives him water and stuff. It kills him to see Luck like this.
I've tried to take him on walks a couple times some what recently...once he callapsed, and the other time he was breathing so hard I could see his ribs.
I am so sorry to my dad, but especially to Lucky for not holding up to my responsiblities. I know dogs get old and when it's their time, it's their time...but if it wasn't for my lack of care for him, he'd be in a much better condition than right now.
To be honest with you, I'll tell you I'm going to bawl my eyes out when it's his time. But I don't feel that it's acceptable for me to cry. A lot of it is my fault. So do I really have the right to cry?
Just be thankful for the things you have in life; live life to the fullest, and never take anything for granted...
I know from now on I will follow those things.