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Personal Narrative-Loss Is An Open Door

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Loss is an Open Door

I knew it would happen.
It always happens, no matter what, I just didn’t think that it would happen today. Standing here, in this white space with its white walls and white floors, waiting. Two months ago it all started to fall apart. I remember how it began. “Mom!” I shrieked from the living room.
“Yes, Jacob?” She replied from somewhere in the house.
“Come here quick! Something is wrong with Gibson…”
Gibson had backed himself into a corner and started shaking uncontrollably, strands of saliva clinging to his muzzle. He couldn’t stop shivering, eyes blinking uncontrollably, and it kept getting worse and worse. Suddenly, all movement stopped and he was Gibson again. Scared, I pleaded, “Is he alight?” “Act calm and stay with him Jacob; I’ll call the vet.”
This was the first hint of his downfall, a hint we should have taken more seriously. If we had only understood what was happening to him perhaps we could have prevented what happened next.
Gibson’s second seizure came a few days later as he sat at the top of the stairs, a place where he commonly went to relax. The shaking started again. “What was that?!” echoed Dad’s booming voice in response to the crash we had just heard.
Gibson had fallen all the way
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My heart beats faster as we head down to Caledonia. I don’t know if it is because of excitement or anxiety - I am not sure my heart is ready to do this again. Three hours later we come to the property and enter a small building that reminds me of a large hen house. Inside there is a shallow, galley shaped common area in front of a row of large kennels. Our breeder opens the kennel to our pup’s litter and they spill out into the common area allowing us to play with the puppies and make our selection. One of them is a smaller boy with a smooth coat the color of dark chocolate who quickly goes to his mother’s kennel
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