In all of my 15 years of life I have only lost one person that I was actually close to. The one person I have lost was my Great Grandpa Drummond a.k.a. Pop Drummond. He was my favorite Grandpa of all. I still remember the day that my Grandpa died. My dad was crying and carrying me around in his arms. He said that my Pop Drummond had gone to heaven to be with Jesus. Somehow my little 3-year-old mind understood this and I ran into my bedroom and grabbed my Pop Drummond, which was the teddy bear that he had given to me when I was only 1. Then I sat at the bottom of the basement stairs bawling and bawling for hours because I wanted my Grandpa back. Until September 11, 1999 the death of my Grandpa was the only death that was ever very real to me. Some people say that it is harder to lose a pet than a human. I never really believed that until I lost my dog. I remember how my friends would tell me that they never wanted to see the day come that my dog would die because they didn’t think that I could handle it. The thing that makes losing a pet so much harder than losing a human for me is that a pet, like my dog, never did anything to hurt me. He never broke one single promise to me, he was always at my side when I was sick, and he never left me alone. My dog and I never argued and he never disagreed with what I wanted to play. My dog was my best friend. I was an only child for the first four years of my life so him and me were very close. My parents got him in December 1984 and I was born in May of 1985. His name was Ramsey, and he was a miniature Schnauzer. My parents say he loved me before he even met me. The day I came home from the hospital my parents gave Ramsey one of my blankets that I had been wrapped up in at the hospital. He sniffed and sniffed at the blanket and then he wrapped up in it. When I came home he immediately acted like he had known me all his life and that I was a part of him. If I was lying in my cradle he was right there next to it ready to protect me from anyone who might try to hurt me. When I was old enough to be on the floor he would be right by my side. One time him and me even got into some serious mischief. My Dad had just bought a brand new pair of glasses. Ramsey and I decided that his glasses looked pretty fun and that we needed to play with them. We were playing with the glasses and having a grand old time, but then we broke them into pieces. My Dad was not very happy at all. Sometimes I even think Ramsey forgot he was a dog because he was with me so much. When I was 3 he and I used to have tea parties together while Mom cleaned up the kitchen after supper. Those days were the best. I could feed him all the imaginary tea in the world and he would never get tired of it, he just always wanted more. And I would give him more. We would even go sledding together in the backyard. He liked that a lot, almost more than I did. Then the time came when I grew up a little bit. My nights of ever lasting tea parties with Ramsey turned into playing Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles with the local neighborhood boys. But Ramsey always was there waiting for me at the door when I would come running back inside the house. I would play with him for a while but it was never as long as it was before. Then out of no where I realized what was happening to my dog and my best friend. His health was deteriorating at a pretty fast pace. In the blink of an eye it was 1999. His vision was barely there anymore, he had bad arthritis all through his legs, he was almost totally deaf, and he was showing signs of something the vet called Alzheimer’s disease. There was the little things that he needed me to do for him everyday, like carrying him down the stairs, helping him find his food, and giving him his medication. Then I heard my parents talking about how they didn’t think we were going to be able to have Ramsey much longer. The words hit me like a dagger I could not even begin to believe that my dog’s fragile life was almost over. Finally after six months my parents decided that the time had came and we had to do what was best. I told my parents I was going to hate them forever if they made us put Ramsey to sleep. I guess the real person I hated was myself for letting 15 years slip by taking my dog for granted. September 10, 1999 came and I stayed up hours into the night telling my dog good night for the last time. I talked to him forever and told him how I was never going to forget him. I thanked him for all the times he kept me safe. I swear even though he could barely hear me, he was listening. When I woke up on September 11, 1999 I started crying immediately I ran to my dog and I took him on one last walk around the block. He was really struggling to make it around. Our roles in each other’s lives had changed in the 15 years we had together. When he was young he used to walk so fast that he would take me for a walk, but now I had to go super slow so he could actually walk. My family and I took him to the vet at 9:30 and the vet said that we could stay in the room when he put him to sleep. My dad and I decided to stay in there because I could not imagine the last thing my dog seeing was that ugly vet. So I held him one last time while they put him to sleep. I have never cried so hard in all my life as I did that morning. When the vet told me he was gone I cried and cried and I felt like a part of me was gone forever. I guess the thing I was scared of the most was forgetting all the things I wanted to remember about him. It was weird to think of being here on earth without him by my side, like he had been everyday of my life. I was afraid I would not remember the things I wanted to about him. I wanted to remember everything. Like the smell of him right after a shower, our tea parties, the walks, the sledding, how fast he ran, the sound of his bark, and the way he waged his tail. Reality told me it was his time to go but my heart could not understand why. It was really hard not being able to hear him tell me that I had been a good friend and that he loved me even though I knew he did. I coped with his death by writing poems and decorating my bedroom walls with pictures of him and me so that I will never forget him and how much he meant to me. I believe that Ramsey was one of God’s little gifts to me that taught me how to love, learn, and lose. Now it has been one year and 3 months since he has been gone I will always miss him and I know I will never forget him.