Bentley
When I was 16 years old, Bentley was 10. He had a tumor and he was losing his
memory, so my dad was going to take him to the vet that afternoon to be put to sleep. I
couldn't imagine my life without the dog that I grew up with. Bentley was my best friend
for as long as I could remember. He knew all of my secrets and my problems because he
was the only one who would listen to me when I needed someone to talk to.
I don't remember much from that day except coming home to Bentley for the last
time. As I unlocked the door, I heard the clicking of his claws on the hardwood floor.
Years ago Bentley would come bounding down the hallway and leap up to greet me at the
door, but it broke my heart when I saw him struggling to walk. He stared up at me with
his gigantic brown eyes. He was obviously in pain. As I clipped his leash on to take him
on one last walk, I tried to forget that it was the last day I would ever see my friend. After
we came back from his walk, we both slumped down on opposite ends of the couch.
Bentley must have noticed that something was wrong, because he tiptoed over to my end
of the couch and sat down next to me so that we were eye to eye. As if asking what was
wrong, he gently nudged me with his nose.
"You're going to the vet today," I blurted out. Bentley hung his head slightly,
knowing that going to the vet meant trouble.
"We've been through a lot, haven't we," I muttered. Bentley lifted his head and
licked my face. I smiled weakly.
"I'm really gonna miss you, boy," I managed to choke out. Bentley just rested his
head in my lap, and that's where we sat until my dad came home.
"Anyone home?" dad shouted as he came in, knowing that I was always home.
Bentley struggled to get up, then he hobbled towards my dad. Dad seemed to have the
same expression that Bentley and I had. I tried to hide it, but my eyes were already
shrink-wrapped with tears.
I don't remember much past that point, except that Bentley knew exactly what was
going on. The soulful expression in his eyes will always be cast in my mind. We all knew
that nothing else could be done. I just stood in the driveway as Bentley stared out the
back window of my dad's van, slowly disappearing. I lost a brother that day.

"If": Rudyard Kipling
If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too:
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or be lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or, being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise;

If you can dream -- and not make dreams your master;
If you can think -- and not make thoughts your aim,
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two imposters just the same:
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build them up with worn out tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss:
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the will which says to them: "Hold on!"

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings -- nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much:
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And -- which is more -- you'll be a Man, my son!


**My dad gave me this poem when I was really little. It's framed and hanging on my wall, and while I have your attention I want to impress upon you that a parent's love is unique and irreplaceable, so please don't take it for granted.