Today's not my dead pet's anniversary or anything like that, but I have seen a lot of art from grieving pet owners and gift art from friends of those who have lost a pet and it's got me thinking back on that tragic day in March 2004 when I received the horrible news. Her name was Joeanna, by the way, and she was the sweetest shaggy, long-haired black lab you'd ever get to meet. She had so much energy and was just as lovable as Stitch, to tell you the truth. I could still remember the day I first met her at the pound; several dogs in the filthy place were barking, but not her...she sweetly sat against the cage door and looked up at me. She never barked, and I knew then and there that something about her was special. I adopted her on the spot...it felt like a dream and I was even happier to see her wagging her tail as she walked into my room as I called her name.

It was because she had so much energy that I had to give it a lot of thought and give her to my grandma. I live in a small house with an even smaller back yard, and only two other dogs live with us, while my grandma had about four or five other dogs and had a little over an acre of land for a back yard, so there'd be plenty of room for her to play and plenty of dogs to play with. So, I gave her to Grandma with hopes that she'd be happier over there, which she was.

However...one night, there was a storm and my grandma's back fence blew down...she and my first pet, Patches-who I also gave to my grandma-got out and crossed the street out of curiosity. As they both headed back...a damn truck driver ran right over Joeanna and didn't even bother stopping. She died instantly, and Patches witnessed the whole thing. According to grandma, Patches was shaking in horror and grief as she rushed up to her.

I received the news the next morning and was so sad to the point that I couldn't even go to school on that day. To this day, I'm still grieving over her death, even though I don't usually show it.

Patches is fine, she's still alive, which is AMAZING; I've had her since I was 6, and now I'm 19.

However, I think the most tear-jerking thing about this whole experience is what happened about a year afterwards. I was sleeping one night and, obviously, she was on my mind, when I had, what is possibly, the best dream of my life. In my dream, she was alive and well. She came right up to me the minute I woke up (Yes, still in the dream) and I was overjoyed to see her again. We played and played all day, then I had this sudden feeling that she had to go back to heaven or something and took her out to the back alley. When we were out there, I told her to be a good girl and that I was sorry I wasn't there to save her, to stop her and patches from crossing the street. She licked my face as if it was a sign that she understood and forgave me before walking away. Just as she walked out of view, I woke up for real, feeling just as happy as I felt when I adopted her from the pound.

I don't know if that dream was just a dream, or if it was really a message from her, but I like to think it was the second one. I like to think that she came back to me one last time to give me a chance to play with her again, say goodbye, and apologize while letting me know that she loves me too and forgave me. She's such a sweetheart and I will never forget her.