Encountering Life’s End

                As a kid, I had two dogs. Two German Shepherds that I loved immensely. These two dogs were what I considered my best friends, the older one, Kaiser, and the younger, Axel. Axel was just a young pup and didn’t really know much, but Kaiser, he was awesome. Kaiser was almost eight years old, considered old for dogs but he was the exception. The phrase, “You cannot teach an old dog new tricks,” had no meaning at all for no matter what it was, Kaiser was smart enough to learn it. I felt like I actually connected with that dog, something not done with Axel because of his ADHD. Kaiser was not just a dog, he was a living, understanding, soul that had, and will always have, a special place in my heart. Unfortunately, my next door neighbor did not see nor care how much I loved that dog and single handedly changed my life.

                The day was October 23, 2006. I was over at my friend’s house right after school and had not gone home yet. It was about six o’clock that day while rollerblading that my mom pulled up in her car and asked me to climb in. I remember getting into the car and seeing my mom’s face streaked with tears. She asked me if I had been home yet and I promptly shook my head feeling slightly guilty that I had not even bothered to check in. My mother then said, “Kaiser is dead, Zack.” The phrase hit me with a wave of confusion and denial, not wanting to believe her. She told me about how my dad had gone out to feed my two dogs and found Kaiser lying motionless, not even breathing. The second wave of emotion was like a brick wall. I remember crying, as if I could not stop, and feeling the fiery depths of my anger rise towards the surface. By this time we were home, I tore off my rollerblades, ran inside, and tripped on the way in, but I could not have cared less.

                After a period of five minutes or so, my anger had been quelled and the feeling of sadness and loss was ever present. I slowly meandered outside towards the kennels where the dogs stayed and saw my brother stroking the fur of my motionless friend. Kaiser’s eyes had lost all their luster and spark of intelligence. Here was my best friend lying still and would never return. This moment equaled with any other sadness I have ever felt or would feel in the future.

                I got down onto my knees and started petting my beloved friend. He had no reason to die; dogs lived a lot longer than this, especially active ones like Kaiser. This dog was in his prime, he had no physical ailment other than a mild arthritis that hardly seemed to bother him. As I sat there, stroking Kaiser’s fur with my brother by my side, I contemplated on what could be his cause of death. I knew we would not have an autopsy, it just seemed wrong to desecrate this beautiful dog.

                The rest of that day I spent digging a grave with my brother right beside our deck. My dad built a plywood coffin, wrapped Kaiser’s lifeless body in blankets, and gently laid him in his resting place. We buried Kaiser that night; I wrote a poem for Kaiser and set it in his coffin before it was sealed off for eternity. This night was probably the most emotional night of my life, next to the day my grandpa passed away. I would remember it forever.

                I woke up the next morning in which the first thing that came to my mind was the recent funeral the previous night and the feeling of sadness and loss soon returned. That was the day that I overheard my dad telling my mom that there was food in Kaiser’s food dish, food that we did not put in there. At that moment I immediately knew Kaiser had been poisoned. Kaiser had been known to bark quite a bit because he could see people walking past our house. My neighbor, I knew, was quite fond of the drink and did not like disturbances. In fact, he had come over to my house at least twice telling us that the dog woke him up at the crazy hour of five o’clock p.m. My neighbor, Mr. Glossener, his son Tyler Nielsen, and his divorced but still living with him wife, had conveniently moved the same day of Kaiser’s death. It was all too perfect, the different food in the dish, the recent complainings, and the perfect timing of the move. From that moment I hated that man with every fiber of my being.

                From this event in my life, I realized how sick and inhumane people can be. I realized that there are some people, to quote Alfred from Batman, “Who want to watch the world burn,” even if it was in this small way. At the age of ten, I found out that some people were never meant and should not be in society. Those people who cannot control themselves, even without the influence of alcohol, were and enemy to the common person. I had not only encountered death of a loved one for the first time in my life, I had seen why people will do these horrible things. I wanted justice, I wanted “An eye for an eye,” and yet I couldn’t. I realized if I stooped to the level of revenge against that waste of flesh, I would be no greater than him. My good conscience would be contaminated with the same actions and thoughts of that man who I hated with a passion. I realized that if I followed that path it would constantly be hovering over my head, carrying around the want of revenge would be too onerous of a task. I knew I did not want to live like that, so I did something harder than getting revenge. I let it go. Never forgiven and not forgotten, just severed emotional ties.