It’s not everyday that someone dies on your lap,but on a Saturday night,my dog ,who was the whole world to me,died of Parvo,and there was nothing I could do to bring him back to me. I was just sitting there, his tiny innocent body wiggling on my lap,his eyes looking into mine telling me that the pain he felt was way beyond repair. The room was a blur,and in a distant I could hear my grandma's anxious voice begging me to get him off my lap,but I couldn't. Suddenly Buddy,that was his name, started giving off this awful smell. I looked down and saw that he had started bleeding. I burst out crying telling myself that I deeply despised the illness itself,just because it was taking the life of whom had provided unconditional love for me and my family.
“ DAROLY GET BUDDY OFF OF YOU NOW!” my grandma commanded,but I just shut her up. I knew deep down that Buddy and I only had hours left together and unfortunately for my grandma,I wasn’t planning on leaving his side any time soon. “ GET HIM OFF NOW!” she commanded again,but the sudden whimpering of Buddy cut her off. I looked down and once again his eyes told me that the pain was overtaking his body.I knelt my
…show more content…
face down to his and I let my eyes pour what seemed like an endless amount of tears. “Why?” I asked him. I thought to myself of the day we had brought him home,and how my mom had told me that he wasn’t just a puppy,but that he was more like a baby. Though he couldn’t talk,he could easily walk,eat,and sleep,and those words exactly were what made me realize what a big responsibility owning a dog would be. He had been a pup at that time,with such high spirits,always chewing what in the end was unrecognizable. He was like a cloud,fluffy,and white always wagging his tail and eating twice the amount of food I would eat in a week. I still remember a day in which I had woken up to his the ear-splitting barking.I had opened up the door to my room only to find pee puddles and tiny,yet disgusting poop piles everywhere. “Buddy,” I explained when I saw what mess he had made. From my point of view at that time I could have blamed it all on him,but the truth was it was my fault for not waking up early and letting him out. The next couple of minutes I cleaned the stinky mess, trying not to make much noise due to the fact that my parents were still asleep. That seemed like forever ago ,or so it felt like it.His active little self was now a limp,malnutrition furball. I looked down at him and I saw that his eyes were shut. For a second,I panicked thinking that he was gone,but as soon as I felt his faded breathing on the tips of my fingers,I let my breath go,relieved that he was still alive,maybe just for a couple more minutes,but he was still alive.I told him that I loved him and I repeated it over and over again,because as long as he knew that,I would be ok. A couple of minutes later,he passed away.
I don’t really know exactly what I felt at that moment,it was like a big ball of mixed feelings at the pit of my stomach. I did know something for sure though,and that was that I would never forget him. Jon Katz once said “Animals have come to mean so much in our lives.We live in a fragmented and disconnected culture. Politics are ugly, religion is struggling,technology is stressful,and the economy is unfortunate.What's one thing we have in our lives that we depend on? A dog or a cat loving us unconditionally,every day,very faithfully.” That night while in bed I remembered asking God why? Why had he taken him away from me? What harm had he done? I then answered the question myself. In the end we're all going to die,I guess Buddy’s time had come earlier than I’d
expected.
When I first arrived “Lisa” The girl that I shadowed told me that there was an emergency with one of the animals. It ended up that a one-year-old beagle ate an entire thing of metabolite, and then slowly started to die. The liver had shut down, and the heart rate was up to 300. Lisa told me that taking a thing of metabolite was like taking 50 cups of coffee at once. The owners of the beagle were there and bowling. The beagle’s name was Murry. Murry's body slowly was shutting down one thing after another. The owners made the decision the dog was going to be put to sleep. We got the dog ready to be taken out. They undid all the cords from the dog so they could take it to another room. I said goodbye to the dog, and then they took it into the other room so that the owners could be there when they put him to sleep. After that happened they then had to put a sleep a little hedgehog that had cancer on its mouth. We then did two regular checkups with one cat and with one dog. Those when great. After that we had a dog come in and it ended up having an affection that might end up killing it. I never heard the end result. The last thing that I did there was that a black lab had been bitten by another dog, and that dog ripped a hole in the neck of the black lab. The doctors had to perform surgery on the dog to close up the holes in the neck. They first had to clean it out with qutips. And blood stated to come out right then I was a little dizzy and I thought I was going to faint. But thank god I didn’t. I saw a cat get dental work on it. And a cat get a bath and they had to blow dry it and brush the hair while it was a sleep.
We all deal with death in our lives, and that is why Michael Lassell’s “How to Watch Your Brother Die” identifies with so many readers. It confronts head on the struggles of dealing with death. Lassell writes the piece like a field guide, an instruction set for dealing with death, but the piece is much more complex than its surface appearance. It touches on ideas of acceptance, regret, and misunderstanding to name a few. While many of us can identify with this story, I feel like the story I brought into the text has had a much deeper and profound impact. I brought the story of my grandmother’s death to the text and it completely changed how I analyzed this text and ultimately came to relate with it. I drew connections I would have never have drawn from simply reading this story once.
At some point in everybody’s life they feel the sorrow and anguish of losing somebody. The the stories “Nashville Gone to Ashes” and “When It’s Human Instead of When It’s Dog”, both a widow and widower are not able to move on with their life after the loss of their loved one. In both cases the mister and the widow both come to the conclusion that their significant other is not coming back leading them to find ways to cope with their deaths, move on and function the best they can with their lives.
Death is painfully unpleasant for anyone who is approached with it. It can be difficult to comprehend and scary to live through, but just because death isn’t very well liked does not mean it doesn’t happen. In fact it happens every day through every hour; no rich, poor, healthy, or sick can escape it. The contemporary writer Amy Hempel gracefully writes about death between a friendship in her piece titled “In The Cemetery Where Al Jolson Is Buried,” showing a relatable situation everyone will undergo at some point in their life. Hempel’s relatability to the subject of death and reactions, unique style of characterization, and rhythmic balance display the great qualities that make her work so rare; making it belong to the 21st century literary
Humor can come in many different forms. Many people are aware of the blatant humor of slapstick, but it takes a keener mind to notice the subtle detail in sarcasm or satire. In A Modest Proposal, Jonathan Swift was able to create a piece of literature addressing the faults of the Irish culture while embedding in a humorous essay. Swift’s satire allows for the gravity of the Irish standings to be exploited under the disguise of a proposal for economic benefit.
When I walked inside the front door something didn’t seem right. The feeling of sorrow overwhelmed the house. It was so thick I could literally feel it in the air. Everyone was motionless. They were sulking;I was befuddled. The most energetic people in the world, doing absolutely nothing. I repeatedly asked them what was wrong. After an hour or so, my dad pulled me aside. He said that my Aunt Feli had passed away last night. My mind went for a loop, I was so confused. I thought that he was joking, so I replied “You’re lying, don’t mess with me like that.” and punched his shoulder softly while I chuckled. My dad quickly started tearing up and said, “There...
I had just walked into Annie’s room to find her screaming in pain. I ran to find the supervising nurse and rushed back to comfort Annie. Shortly after, the nurse came, fed Annie her medications, and walked out. Not a word was said. But I knew Annie was afraid, confused, upset; managing deep pain in her body. I knew she did not want to be alone, so I stayed beside her for a while, holding her hand until she fell asleep, telling her she would be okay. ================
.... Those moments were all I had left of him. Life indeed was extremely precious. I cannot do anything to stop death. God wanted my Pa; therefore He took my Pa. I made all these plans, but life is too short. My Pa’s life was cut shorter than I wanted it to be. I sat there and I wondered, “Was he thinking about me? Would we meet again one day? Where will I go when my life is done? Who will I impact?” These were all the questions I asked myself as I was laying there.
Unlike many of the short stories we read, “A&P” by John Uplike displays the familiar effects of anti-Feminism and unnecessary conformity in both female and male characters. The story is placed in the 1960’s in a grocery store on a sunny afternoon. Three young, beautiful ladies walk in wearing their bathing suits and begin stir up controversy in the quite store. Even though none of the three girls have done anything wrong still everyone working and shopping in the store, with the exception of Sammy and Stokesie, seem in some ways disgusted with the girls attire. Of course this affects me and other young women; knowing that in the 1960’s women were treated with disrespect about their bodies and are still today treated this way. A mixture of bland setting, contrasting characters and a fairly uneventful plot the story unravels into a powerful story that brings out the negative and anti-feminism attitudes in a corrupt society.
...om her mother and transported to a pet store where she was locked in a cage until she was purchased by my friend Hailey. I want you to think about her excitement to have a home and Hailey’s excitement to have a new pet to love. Now I want you to think about Hailey receiving the devastating news that her puppy had to be euthanized and Daisy’s fear as she was taken from her owner’s hands and put to death.
The AIDS hospice reeked from disease and neglect. On my first day there, after an hour of "training," I met Paul, a tall, emaciated, forty-year-old AIDS victim who was recovering from a stroke that had severely affected his speech. I took him to General Hospital for a long-overdue appointment. It had been weeks since he had been outside. After waiting for two and a half hours, he was called in and then needed to wait another two hours for his prescription. Hungry, I suggested we go and get some lunch. At first Paul resisted; he didn't want to accept the lunch offer. Estranged from his family and seemingly ignored by his friends, he wasn't used to anyone being kind to him - even though I was only talking about a Big Mac. When it arrived, Paul took his first bite. Suddenly, his face lit up with the biggest, most radiant smile. He was on top of the world because somebody bought him a hamburger. Amazing. So little bought so much. While elated that I had literally made Paul's day, the neglect and emotional isolation from which he suffered disgusted me. This was a harsh side of medicine I had not seen before. Right then and there, I wondered, "Do I really want to go into medicine?"
Death is an inevitable process that every being must in endure in their lifetime. The loss of a family member or close friend can shower the survivors with numerous emotions. Despite the emotions, grieving the loved one is a natural process in which helps with coping and healing. The short story “By-and-By”, by Amy Bloom uses symbolism and imagery to demonstrate how a person navigates through the fluctuating, short-term, or long-lasting stages of grief. The nonlinear chronology of the story complicates the reader’s comprehension of the narrator’s grieving process.
Nancy was only four years old when her grandmother died. Her grandmother had a big lump on the lower right hand side of her back. The doctors removed it, but it was too late. The tumor had already spread throughout her body. Instead of having a lump on her back, she had a long stitched up incision there. She couldn’t move around; Nancy’s parents had to help her go to the bathroom and do all the simple things that she use to do all by herself. Nancy would ask her grandmother to get up to take her younger sister, Linh, and herself outside so they could play. She never got up. A couple of months later, an ambulance came by their house and took their grandmother away. That was the last time Nancy ever saw her alive. She was in the hospital for about a week and a half. Nancy’s parents never took them to see her. One day, Nancy saw her parents crying and she have never seen them cry before. They dropped Linh and her off at one of their friend’s house. Nancy got mad because she thought they were going shopping and didn’t take her with them.
A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Future by Michael J. Fox explores Michael’s journey from dropping out of high school to moving to the busy city of Los Angeles to pursue a career in acting. Michael’s experiences and challenges that he faced are described in this book. He shares the struggles he experienced throughout his life, like struggling to pay for food, dealing with his father’s death, and being diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease. He also shares the joys of his life, being a successful actor, having children, and opening a foundation for Parkinson’s research.
The Mark Haddon’s the curious incident of the dog in the night-time is written in first person through the eyes of a fifteen-year-old, Christopher, a high functioning, literal individual whom readers have been known to portray as being an individual scaled on the autistic spectrum. If you appreciate the author’s interpretation of Christopher, as nothing more than a fictional teenage character, it is appropriate to find humour in this novel.