During the summer of 4th grade I experienced what no kid should ever have to experience. Towards the end of June, my mom and I went on one of our special bike rides that happened very seldom. We traveled to the beach and then around our neighborhood in the bearing heat. When we reached our street, across from my neighbor’s house, we saw a sign that read, “Free Sago Palms.” So she put a few in the basket on her bike unaware of the dangers they contained.

The next day I went to vacation bible school. It was an ordinary day, until I got home. My dad picked me up and we had the usual after school conversation,
“How was it?”
“Ok”

And then out of the blue, he asks, “your mother told me to plant those Sago Palms in the backyard, you know? The ones you found yesterday.” “Yeah I remember,” I said carefree. He then added,” Juneau (my puppy) has been getting sick, she threw up earlier, so I put her outside. I think she might have eaten grass again. She’s probably ok.” I sat I dead silence thinking about if she really was ok.

When we got home, I threw my bag onto the floor next to the kitchen table, and trotted outside to be with my sixth month old puppy Juneau. She didn’t look terribly sick but, yet didn’t have that little hop in her step as usual. I watched how she went into the corner, where she almost never goes, and throws up.

“Maybe we should take her to the vet. She’s never thrown up more than once in the same day,” I suggested. “Nah, no need. She’s fine,” he argued back, “She’ll be good in no time.”
But I knew she wasn’t.

I go inside and start watching my favorite show, at the time, SpongeBob. Juneau comes back and stares at me with her “oh my god I’m dying face.” Her big brown eyes looked as if they’ve turned blue with depression. She rests her dry, cracked, meatball brown nose against my leg staring straight up. She’s staring up at me with those sad eyes of hers.

It was about 6:00 p.m. that night when the vile vomiting started. I started the car and my dad rushed her into the back seat of his new SUV. I sat back there to keep her stable, and keep her from falling straight to the floor. Her vomit covered the nice, brand new leather seats with a foul stench. I was smothered in her warm puke. But that didn’t bother me, all I cared about was Juneau. We raced to the animal clinic, which was by far the closest, and alas, that was closed. The doors were locked and no lights were on. Our next choice was to go to the vet, which sadly was 20 minutes away. It was our only option.

We again, got back in the car, and rushed to the vet. It was a long ride considering I had a puppy throwing up basically her whole stomach on to my lap.

When we got to the vet, my dad jumped out and opened the back door, grabbing Juneau. I was left to surprisingly, park the car, which was only a few feet away from the nearest open space and lock the doors, then meet them inside. As my dad ran into the waiting room he shouted for the vet. When the vet answered they picked Juneau up and carried her into the nearest room. I ran back inside and followed them. My heart started beating faster as I was thinking about all of the things that could happen. They showed us out of the room they were running tests. We waited in the lobby for some kind of report on Juneau, but then were told to leave because they were closing. They kept Juneau overnight for precautionary measures and more tests. We went home worried to death.

The next day, we came back still worried and hoping for the best. We showed up bright and early, 5:00 a.m. to be exact. The vet, Mr. Jones told us that it was likely that she had gotten into something poisonous. He suspected that is would have been something new because usually she wouldn’t have gotten into something she’s used to. We explained to him that we had just planted some Sago Palms in the backyard that she may have eaten. He looked at us with worry in his eyes, which scared me even more. He told us that Sago Palms are very poisonous and can even lead to death to humans, and animals in some cases. The poison in them attacks your nervous system and your liver. In fact, he said that Sago Palms are even deadly to huge animals like elephants. They told us that they were going to scan her stomach and then they will find out how dangerous this is. They kept her for a week running tests and observing her closely.

We came to pick her up about 7 days later with the great news that her treatment most likely worked. Tears of joy fled my eyes. My dad and I took her home and expected the old Juneau, but we didn’t get her. She still didn’t have that little hop in her step and she seemed to be tired al of the time. It looked like she was being dragged across the floor by an invisible string.

A month later we knew that she wasn’t getting better, but she was getting worse. She was only getting weaker and less able to move. She was suffering. Juneau had stopped eating and looked like a twig, a broken twig. There was no spark left in her. Tears of sorrow filled my eyes, and I think about how that fun puppy I had a month ago is now lifeless and in pain. We knew what we had to do.

I knew that her life was fading away. I tried to get as much alone time with her as possible. I can still remember those nights laying on my bed crying for hours knowing that my puppy is in her last few days.

Then came the day. The last day. I didn’t want her to suffer. I loved her. We did what was best, and put her down. On the way to the vet, we were silent. I was in the back seat trying to hold back the tears. I couldn’t. When we got there, I stumbled to get out of the car, afraid of the next chapter. Walking into the vet was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. Losing a member of the family was hard but losing my best friend was even harder.

We said our goodbyes, and that was the last time I saw her.

I can still remember the good ole’ days where Juneau was alive and happy, looking up at me with her big brown eyes, so full of life.

Even now, just thinking of her, it brings tears to my eyes. And not just sympathy tears, but cold hard real tears, the kind that you only see in movies. I will never forget the day I lost my little baby girl.