It was a Saturday morning and usually I wouldn’t wake up for another three hours, but today was different.

“Lucy, get up. We’re going to the vet. I think we’re going to have to put Stella down,” my dad sadly said to me at 7 in the morning.

I can’t believe this is happening. One moment she’s taking a sunbath out on the deck, the next moment she is in my dad’s arms in pain. My heart started racing, thinking about what life would be like without her. 

Nothing seemed to process since it was so early. I had been up late the night before watching YouTube. My dad carried my small, plump beagle in a light blue beach towel. She started bleeding internally during the night, and that’s when we knew something was wrong.

“What’s going on? She was fine yesterday, wasn’t she?” I asked, flustered.

During our one-minute ride to the vet, my mom drove us with tears filling in her eyes, while my dad sat in the front seat holding Stella. I sat behind them while listening to the engine revving.

The examination room was small with cream-colored walls, brown tile, two small black chairs, and the small rectangle counter where my dog would soon lay. The vet, short and plump wearing blue scrubs, entered the room, and we gently laid our sweet beagle on the counter. As I looked into my dog’s eyes, her life journey played through my head like a movie.

The vet walked up to the counter with two needles and sheets of paper filled from bottom to top for my parents to sign. As they were signing, the vet pulled me to the side and asked, “Would you like to stay in the room?” He continued to say, “I stayed for one of my dogs, holding its paw while it died, but for my other dog, I waited outside. Whatever you choose is fine.”

Why wouldn’t I stay in the room? Stella is my dog and I love her.

The vet began the process we were all dreading. He carefully explained every step he was performing, so we all knew what was going on. I tried to pay attention, but tears started filling up in my eyes, making them shiny like glass. How can someone easily put down an animal like this? I’ve always wanted to be a vet, but I don’t know if I could do that. Seeing the family grieving while slowly injecting the needle is something I couldn’t bear.

The last shot was inserted into my dog’s thigh; stopped her heart and the whole world seemed to move in slow motion. Her last breaths were calm, and I knew Stella was leaping across the rainbow bridge. Silence and sniffles filled the room while the vet gave us time to say our final goodbyes. It already felt wrong leaving without her. This wasn’t like a normal vet appointment, but her last.

My mom gently touched me and said, “Lucy, I think it’s time to go.”

I will no longer be able to look out the window and see Stella lying in the sun, or find her buried under piles of blankets, or hear her soft snore while she took her hourly naps.

Three hours after I woke, I found myself back where this story began, in bed, sad and tired. I hugged my golden retriever Elvis, and went to take a nap, hoping I would wake up to find it had all been a dream and I wouldn’t have to say goodbye.