We went to the store to get fish and left with a dog. That’s how it all started. When I was seven years old my family and I got our first dog, Kozmo. We often called him Kozzie. I didn’t realize how much of an impact this dog would have on my life the day we brought him home.

As I grew up, Kozmo was always there. During the winter he would run down the hill as we sled through the snow. He grew to love my older brother’s baby blanket and slept with it over him at night. One Valentine’s Day he even attempted to eat a large Hershey Kiss, ya know the ones they sell at Walmart that are almost the size of your head? When I thought of my life, my little buddy was always there, in every memory. He would cuddle in my lap when I cried, and that was enough to make me feel better. He sensed when I hurt and celebrated with me when I was happy. I was his human and he was my dog. I thought he was invincible. He was 13 years old and still acted like a puppy. I thought he would always be there. I couldn’t remember life without him.

Two months ago I finally snapped into reality; Kozmo wasn’t invincible. I became a part of a community I never wanted to be a part of. Call me dramatic, but you never know what it’s like to lose a pet until it actually happens to you. Kozmo was still spunky, even in his last weeks; however, a tumor had grown in his nasal passage that made it really hard for him to breathe. Listening to him struggle for air every day was really hard for me to watch. As months and months went on without any change in his breathing, I realized I had been in denial. “Kozmo was still that puppy we got 13 years ago and he would bounce back!” That’s what I told myself until I faced the truth: Kozmo was old and he was quite sick.

One day this summer, I woke up and my parents were home. Why weren’t they at work? I saw my mom holding Kozzie, and I knew. Today was going to be a very, very hard day. He had been up all night struggling to breath. He starred at my mom and dad that night as if asking us to do something to save him. We didn’t have the money for a surgery, and it wasn’t getting any better. If we couldn’t save him, my parents didn’t want him to suffer. I prayed that God would just take him so we didn’t have to make this decision. I didn’t want this to be our decision. But it had to be. Each day he began to suffer more and more. So I cried and I cried as Kozmo licked me for the last time.

After putting my best friend down, I struggled because we decided that for him. Kozzie didn’t know that was his last day. He couldn’t prepare for this day. We couldn’t prepare for this day, either. No amount of time would ever have prepared me for this day. My heart physically hurt. However, I know it would have been selfish of me to do anything different and let him suffer until it killed him. So while I know we made the right decision, a part of me was missing.

When you lose a pet, the healing takes time. You have a routine that you go through with your furry friend that is habit. When that changes, the reality becomes more real. I didn’t see Kozmo sitting at the front door in the sun when I woke up in the mornings, and I didn’t have to put him in his crate when we left the house anymore. Those changes were little reminders of what had happened. So I had to change these things. I put away his crate and I stopped looking for him. That was the only way to move on.

Today I have a new sensitivity for those who lose their pets. I never knew just how hard it would be to lose my dog. You never know until you lose them. When you lose a pet, you don’t just lose them -- you lose a piece of your heart. That day, two months ago, I lost the last piece of my childhood. As I learn to live without my buddy, I still think about him every day. There’s an ache in my heart that will never go away and a little hole that will always belong to him. Despite this pain I still feel, I would never trade it for all the memories I made with my dog. He was there when I cried over my first boyfriend and he was there to meet my future husband. Maybe one day you may walk into the store for fish and walk out with a dog. But trust me, you won’t regret it, and it just may change your life.

In loving memory of Kozmo Kramer.