Last night, when I was writing about my dog Kimberly, I was imaging her the way that I last saw her. Old, tired, sad, struggling to walk…but otherwise okay.

I didn't know what time they were going to go to the vet so I asked my Mom to wake me up when she got up herself. I wanted to see Kimmy before they took her to the vet just in case… I, however, knew that my Mother would forget as I don't think she took me seriously or understands. That and she and my brother are quite angry that my Dad isn't the one taking her…

Instead, I was able to wake myself up, partly because it was on my mind even though I was horribly tired and partly because I could hear my Mom and brother bitching in the hallway.

As soon as I got out in the dining room, Mom told me that they had already decided to put her to sleep. She's too far gone to help.

I decided to grab my camera and take a picture of her because I don't have any and that's when I realized that keeping her alive would be far meaner.

She was lying so still that I thought she had already passed away. She was looking up and to her right a bit despite me being directly in front of her. I tried stomping my feet since she can't hear anymore but she never flinched. I also tried moving to the side to get her to look my way and snapping my fingers to make some additional noise and nothing. She kept looking out to the right so I thought that maybe she had alreadly gone…

Mom checked though and she said that she's still breathing.

As weak as this may sound…I can't go. My Dad has been crying, I cried all last night and didn't fall asleep until 6:00am only to get back up at 8:15. My Mom and brother seemed to sleep just fine. I know they don't like doing this but they seem to be angry more than anything else.

I was thinking that she'd be aware of her surroundings and scared but I don't know if that'll be the case. I don't think her mind is focusing on much. Sadly, I think this will be a much needed release for her.

9:05am now, Dad's friend is going to dig the hole. My Mom and I can't manage it physically, Dad is too upset, and my brother, the 19 year old professional couch potato, couldn't manage to dig a large enough hole to bury a gnat.

I'm going to try to sleep in a little bit. I'm hungry but I'm too tired to eat and I'm afraid it'll make me sick.