onyxx

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About

"In love with creating music that has a story behind it."i grew up loving music and the wonders it brought to my mind. so now, i want to provide the same experience for others. i wish for all who hear my works to not only follow my stories, but to also create your own. to me that is the magic behind music, the chance to escape reality.

stories

a dog that ponders

I started this project over a year and a half ago, and to be honest, I never expected it to go down the route it did. On a random day, I was sharing some of my music with a close friend when he mentioned to me that I should do an album that told a story about childhood and what it felt like growing out of innocence. At first, I liked it but eventually decided I wanted more than just a typical trope of a story. This led me down a rabbit hole of brainstorming and rethinking until finally I thought of the plot that I wanted. Fast forward to now, I have completed the project that I have been so excited to share. I can’t wait to hear about the stories or feelings you all may experience with this project of mine, but nevertheless, I just pray that my music reaches the people who need it the most.I have each title of every track within this story bold and italicized to allow you the listener to follow along with the music as well.Thank you to all those who enjoy this project and I can’t wait for what else is to come in the future.

the early days (part 1)

Days of youth as a dog are something I long for again. The simple mornings of waking up to smiles and constant patting; telling me how much of a good boy I am or how handsome I looked. It was times like those where I wish I had never taken them for granted.A dog’s dream in this world is simple (sleep, eat, play, and love the people they care for). I don’t remember the start of my dream, but a fond memory that I do have started with the family that took me into their arms. They were such a loving family; the first weeks of me staying in their care I was spoiled by affection constantly. As time went by, they would all start to address me by the word “Webster” except for the younger girl. She would call me “Twinkle;” she would tell me that it was because of my bright yellow fur that I looked like some of the stars in the sky that she would see at night. All was weird at first, but as time went by, I knew to always pay attention when hearing those words. Their love for me was wonderful; I was always excited to see them whenever they would arrive back home after leaving me alone for hours. The endless wonders I got to experience with this family were what made this life of mine such a dream. I got to sleep in the younger boys’ bed all the time, eat on an awesome schedule, play outside, and go on wonderful trips together as a family. This is everything a dog could ask for and more. At least, in my mind it was.A memory of the ocean breeze is what comes to mind when I look back on the many trips I took with this family. One of the first trips I went on was to a place called the beach. It was so much different from the backyard I got to play in; it felt like I was walking on some sort of powdered texture, and it would always get everywhere. I would have to be hosed down after playing all day in it, which I didn’t like, but the younger girl of the family would tell me “Twinkle I need to make you squeaky clean so that I can give you all the kisses in the world!” Once cleaned up, she would end up kissing me all over my face and I would always be the happiest when little moments like that would happen. However, that one moment at the beach stuck with me forever and not for the reason you’d think. When receiving all those kisses, she used to smell salty and fresh just like the ocean breeze. It was then that I realized, I was in a time of peace.As time went on, I noticed changes in the family. The younger two began to grow taller and look different, while the two older looking humans began to have a grayer look to them. However, none of that mattered to me because I was at a time of peace in my life. I got everything I wanted from these people; their love for me was endless, and that is all a dog like me could ever ask for.Those happy moments with the people I love were the best. There were many with this family that brought me joy; some small, big, or even plain ones. The trips we took were some of my favorite memories, however, there was an experience I had with the older gentlemen of the family that I believe to be my favorite of all.One random night, when I was sleeping on this big ol’ bed of mine, I heard someone in distress nearby. I got up and started walking towards the area in which I heard the noise coming from. As I butted my head through the crack of a door, I saw the older gentlemen crying. I had never witnessed him ever doing such a thing. I didn’t know what to do for him because ever since I had been a part of this family, sadness wasn’t an emotion that was common to see. I decided that the best thing for me to do was to allow myself to accompany him during this struggling moment. I jumped on the bed that he was sitting on and laid my head right on his lap. He began to pet me and tell me how thankful he was to have a bud like me, which was so refreshing to hear of course. Though, he began to rant about something, that to this day, made no sense to me. He spoke about something called a failed marriage and how he was hurt to see the special person he loved in his life choose someone else. I didn’t understand his words, but I was just glad to be next to him during that moment. I really felt like we had a great bonding session that night to keep it frank.The next day, I woke up to see the older gentleman and his special person (which turned out to be the older lady in the family) hugging. I guess things were fine all along, at least; that’s what I believed.Such a simple life I had looking back on it. There was so much happiness that came from the memories I made with my people, and I would never trade it for anything. In this world, it’s the little things that keep us all from going insane (even us dogs). However, this life we live is not always going to be fair to us, and that’s okay. You can at least say that when you made those great memories; you made them when it seemed like life was fair. When the idea of a worry was irrelevant, time was a notion of nothingness, and people were the joy that made your days. How I miss those days, those lovely days, and how I would do anything to get them back. There could be no price that would deter me from buying them back, but here I speak about them still, as nothing has changed since. That simple life I had was sweet like youth, but as youth comes it goes and so did the days of peace I once had.

deafening silence (part 2)

My mornings used to be filled with laughter and playful chatter amongst the younger ones in the family. Everything about those days was perfect, but as time moved on, so did the perfect mornings I used to enjoy. At one point in my life, the idea of humans leaving this Earth was just as simple as aging away, just like us animals. My perspective on life was that you can only live for so long before your time runs out, simple, right? I wish. I can’t believe how stupid I was to think like that, but why blame myself? I was so full of bliss and innocence.I remember the cold, quiet morning we had that day, with the sun hiding behind the clouds. I was already prepared for my morning routine, in which I would wait for the young boy and girl to begin to eat their breakfast, in hopes they would share it with me. It took longer than usual for them to begin until the young girl finally came and sat. She began to eat and was quiet during the process; she never really glanced at me either. I was so used to the usual chatter and attention that it was unsettling for me to be in such a scenario. I knew something was up but as a dog, what would I know about human emotions. Once the young girl finished, she left without a goodbye and as for the young boy, he never came to eat. If anything, I didn’t even notice him at all that morning. I felt something was wrong, but I ignored it. What innocence I had during that moment, I was truly blinded by what I thought to be the perfect world I lived in.That same morning, a human had “aged away”. Though, it didn’t occur in the way I believed happened for every living being. Time had no play in this one; it was merely a spectator.The screams of the young girl were what shot me straight up out of my bed that morning after breakfast. The shrills echoed throughout the house like a siren would throughout a neighborhood. The girl was hysterical. I reached the room from where all the screams were coming from. She was shouting things at the young boy like saying, “WAKE UP!” “WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS!” and “DON’T LEAVE ME, PLEASE!” I couldn’t understand what was happening, I remember trying to sniff the young boy and then being hit on the nose by the girl saying, "GET AWAY WEBSTER!” She had never hit me before, but what stood out was the fact that she didn’t call me “Twinkle”. I was startled by it because she had always called me “Twinkle”, that was her favorite name for me. I just remember beginning to whimper in fear because of her yelling and hysterical behavior. I didn’t understand why she was acting the way she was; I was just wanting to help her due to the stress she seemed to be in. It was then when I looked at the young boy once more and saw the gashes on his wrists. Blood had poured from the wounds and continued. That was the last time I ever saw the young boy. The last time I would ever play fetch with him, eat his breakfast, or get to sleep under those warm covers of his. He taught and showed me so many wonders in my life, but the ultimate lesson I learned from him was that time is not always the leading reason for death in this world. No, for death can be chosen early by the selfish demise of humans either against themselves or against others.Some time had passed since the incident of the young boy. I watched “a family that moved on” but still stayed in place. A house that was once filled with laughter and joy was now nothing but either bleak quietness or jarring in commotion. I would constantly hear the old man and woman yell at each other off and on, which led to many restless nights for me. Their fights consisted of blaming one another over the young boy’s death, one sleeping with another person, or questioning why one hates the other so much. During all that drama, I began to see less of the young girl, as she would stay locked up in her own room. I missed her during those moments; she used to be the light of my day. Every day I woke up hoping she would come out and see me. On the days she would come out, I was not even a thought in her mind. She would walk by me without petting me or talking to me. Even though I couldn’t talk to her, I just wanted to feel included in some way. I wasn’t used to this type of environment, but there was no way to escape from it. I had become ingulfed in it and just had to live on, hoping that things would get better. They didn’t."Hurt by selfishness". I couldn’t see it at first, but it didn’t take long to finally realize it. With the young boy gone from the family, I noticed changes in my day-to-day routine that were not normal. Ever since I was brought into this family, I was always fed three times a day. Once in the morning, then a little snack at noon, and then finally a final meal at dinner. I always knew when those times would roll around, I was so good at it that I would do little dances in front of my bowls to get my family's attention. They would always laugh and tell me food is on the way with such big smiles. Though, after the incident with the young boy, I had to do my dance countless times just to manage to get the attention of someone. I would be lucky if I just got a meal a day. Sometimes I wouldn’t even eat for days at a time. This family that once cared for me, tried their best to forget my existence."I was neglected by choice". I didn’t want to believe it, but as the days passed, it became more obvious to me. I had no one to rely on. No one. I began to miss the young boy. If he were still here, he would love me. He would still care for me, feed me, play with me, and take me on great adventures. I wanted to be heard; I wanted the family that was treating me like this to hear my complaints. Yet, I have no words to say. I’m just a dog. Even if I could have spoken to them, would they have listened to me?“They are full of flaws, yet I still love them” is what I kept telling myself. I didn’t want to give up on the ones I loved, but they made it so hard for me to try. It never made sense to me, why did these people have to suddenly make it so hard for me to love them? Do other people act like this towards their dogs, or was I the only one to ever experience this? I wanted so many answers to my questions, like why did the young boy decide to die? Everything was so confusing and tiring to me, and I just wanted things to be back to what they were; when we were a joyful family. I tried to bring that happiness back to life; though, it seemed to be more of a burden than anything.During those harsh times I faced, I would get sick often. In general, I was hardly taken care of. Barely being fed, beaten, and kept in a cage all day. Because of all this, I began to be severely anxious about everything which caused me many other problems that were never issues until then. My sickness brought great dread towards the others in the family, especially the young girl. She was mainly forced to help clean me or my messes up when I would have an episode. She would always show the same expression when helping me out. Her eyes would be completely empty from thoughts, and her demeaner would come off as soulless. I didn’t recognize her anymore. There were many times I would try wagging my tail or licking her face to cheer her up because I never liked that look she gave me. After many attempts, I gave up; nothing ever changed. She was the last person that I was trying to hold on to. A certain question began to race in my mind after all those struggling attempts I tried with her, “what did I do to make you hate me.” After my mind became aware of what reality was, I never wanted to be reminded of the ocean breeze ever again.“Years passed and nothing changed.” I dealt with the unfairness more than I wanted to. I was continually put in positions where I knew no better and was harmed for such. Life was nothing but a numbing cycle until changes finally occurred. The family that once loved me no longer wanted me around; as if I hadn't figured that one out already. I remember the day I found out I was no longer going to be around these people. It was a boring day, long and full of nothing eventful, as usual. I remember laying in my cage that day when I heard the old man talking to the young girl saying, “I think it's time that Webster finds a new home.” I felt a sense of relief when hearing those words, I thought to myself that I could finally escape this endless cycle. I must say, looking back at that moment I couldn’t have been any more foolish. Because in the end, nothing changed for me. This numbing cycle was just the beginning.

a forgiving stray (part 3)

What is love? Is love something we use for our own good? Is it a way to escape? Is love needed? Is love supposed to hurt? These were the questions wondering in my mind as I was off to my new home. I wanted to make sense of the injustice I had gone through with this family. How could they love me and then just stop? Is that the point of love in this world? I don't know. I just knew that I was "a dog that once loved."I remember sitting in my cramped cage as I was being transported, thinking back on all the wonderful memories I made with this family. I couldn't believe it all went to hell. As I sat there quietly, reminiscing, a memory of youth came across my mind. A sunny day filled with joy and laughter amongst the young boy and girl as we played in an open field. I chased them as they ran around; we did so for hours. They treated me with much care back then, so much so, that I started tearing up thinking about it. Within that moment I realized that I missed my family, I missed what we used to be but knew that it was over. There was no going back.It took longer than expected to arrive at my new home. I don't know if that was because I was anxious for a new start in life or if I was lost in thought. Either way it didn't matter; I was just ready for change. The back door of the car opened and standing there was the young girl, her eyes still empty as ever. The older man told her to open my cage and put my leash on. This was new; usually they would just carry my cage wherever because I had my tendencies to sniff around a lot. Though, the young girl dragged me out of the car onto the pavement. As I looked around, I noticed the scenery seemed different compared to what I thought of as a "home environment." I looked behind me to see a very run down building with a couple cars parked outside. I couldn't quite make up what this all meant but for the time being, I just wanted to start over. If this was going to be my new home, at least this family would love me better.As we walked towards the building, I could hear faint screams and cries from other animals within the building. I started to get this pit feeling in my stomach that something wasn't right. I didn't like where things were going so I started yanking back on my leash. I wanted the young girl to see that I didn't like it here. I wanted to turn around! She kept pulling me closer to the building until eventually the older man kicked me hard in the side. I fell hard onto the pavement and realized that they were willing to drag me into that building no matter what.As we entered, I started to smell many other dogs near me. I wondered if this was a place to make friends with other dogs rather than humans. I quickly knew that wasn't the case when I looked over to my right to see a small old dog being dragged by his scruff screaming and crying for help. They dragged him into a room down this long hallway, and the screams lasted for minutes. Though, just as they started, they ended. I looked up at the young girl while she was holding my leash and saw tears falling from her eyes. I didn't understand what was happening. Why did I witness an innocent dog get treated like that? What even happened to him? Why was the tension I felt telling me this is not the happy place I dreamed of? These were such innocent thoughts I had when looking back on this day. Such innocence was to be corrupted in that moment when I overheard the older man speaking with this lady at a desk. A statement that would install hopelessness into any dog, "We’ve come to drop our dog off at the Kill Shelter."Some Time passed after my arrival at this God forsaken place. I continued to watch other animals around me get taken back to the same place where I witnessed that first dog go to. Every time an animal went back there, they were never heard of or seen again. I was lucky at the time I guess, since I was relatively new to the place, I was put on hold. The one good thing about this place was that they gave animals a second chance to be adopted. However, after a certain number of days, they would take you back to that haunting room, and that was that. I stayed optimistic for a while, until my days got stale. Every new day that came, I would do my best to stand out. Just so that maybe, just MAYBE, someone would walk into this place and come rescue me.No one ever came and now "I’m too old to stand anymore". Who would want to adopt an ugly old dog like me? That was it; I gave up being optimistic that day."Loathe", that’s how I would describe my mindset after all the unfair treatment I had been through. The people I knew as my family no longer cared. They decided these outcomes for me. Since I had nothing better to do while sitting in a cage all day, I started thinking about all the things I hated. I hated my previous family of course; I hated the treatment I got in this hellhole, and I hated myself. A part of me believed that I was the problem all along. I kept denying it, but there were times when I felt it was the truth. These aching battles within my mind caused me much trouble. I began to eat less (even though the food we got was awful anyways), I didn’t want to leave my cage as much when the workers at this place were to take us outside, and I started to sleep less and less. I was already in bad shape because of my age, but I didn’t care, I was dying quicker. I don’t know why, but the thought of that at the time made me happy. That was the happiest I had been since the last time I had felt a loving hand.One random night that I recall, I was let out to go have some "me" time and to do my business before we got locked back up for the night. I decided that I would go out since it had been some time since I had last been out. I remember walking around sniffing whatever caught my nose. As I walked around in this sort of large yard, I noticed that I was the only one out. It seemed like the other dogs that came out were done for the night. I took this moment of peace and silence and enjoyed it. I laid down on the grass, taking in all the sounds that night brings. I began to tear up at that moment. I was homesick for a home that didn’t even want me back. This "isolation" I felt was rotting me inside out and I couldn’t ignore it anymore. I was tired of being alone, angry, and hurt. I was tired of being trapped inside a cage all day with no one to even care for me. It’s funny though, because this isn’t my first time dealing with this type of situation.The "sin" I have encountered in this world is what keeps me up at night. Seeing a young boy take his own life. A family that once loved me, put me up for death. Selfishness. Hatred. All these things that make me sick, yet my sin haunted me the most. I would lay in my cage every day hating myself more than anything. I began to fully believe that my existence was something that should have never happened.I started to feel my life draining every new day. I was just skin and bones and standing became an almost impossible task it felt. I would just be picked up by a worker and dropped on the ground outside to do my business. Then they would just drag me back to my cage. These workers knew my time was near, but for some reason I was never taken back to that room. At that point I was basically begging for it to happen, I couldn’t stand it anymore. The "despair" I had made me sick, and it felt like death was my only cure.InterludeA normal morning for me at this shelter was as simple as going outside, eating, and then laying in my cage all day. It was routine that became second nature for me and as terrible as the conditions were, I would just tell myself that it was slightly better than my last home. That was some struggling hope I had. My exitance began to feel numb as the days moved on. Repetition and a conflicting mindset were to blame. All was hell for me until a change occurred that I would’ve never seen coming.One morning, I awoke to a dog placed in the cage next to mine. This shelter was not really packed out with dogs, so having another dog next to you was a surprise. At first, I ignored him. I was still narrow minded about my own issues and didn’t care to make friends. However, this dog would not stop trying to talk to me. Every morning he would greet me. Every time we were outside to do our business, he wanted to play. He kept trying to get friendly with me, but I would push him away. I felt like I didn’t need this type of relationship in my life anymore. I was betrayed once already by a family that I thought loved me. Why would I trust this random dog that I had never met? It was a conflicting matter for me, but in the end, this neighbor of mine saved me. He was "a friend I didn’t deserve."On a night in which I struggled to go to sleep, He asked me if everything was okay. He told me that it seemed I had many things bothering me and that he wanted to help by lending an ear. I couldn’t tell if he was serious or not but at that moment something inside me told me to accept his offer. So that I did. He introduced himself by the name “Buster.” To which I finally told him my name. Buster would ask again what seemed to be bothering me and when he asked that second time, I just broke down. For hours into that night, I told him everything about my past and what got me into this shelter. The entire time I talked, Buster never once interrupted me; he just listened with care. It felt like forever since someone gave me this type of attention. Once I got everything out, I realized how much better I felt. It didn’t occur to me how much bottling up your emotions could hurt you. In the end I told Buster that listening to me helped a lot and also how thankful I was. He responded back with a simple smile and told me that everything will be better since we had each other to rely on. Hearing that made me feel hope again, but I was quick to deny it. I told him that there was nothing that would make this situation better. We were trapped in this hellhole of a place with no hope of finding another family. Just a bunch of rejects that deserved death. As I told him all this, he just looked at me smiling still. I couldn’t understand why he was so naive. He was so hopeful. I had to ask him how he could be so full of happiness after being put in a place like this. He didn’t respond right away, so I told him that he wouldn’t understand it like I did. Because of my past, I understood the unfairness that this world has to offer. After a bit of silence, I decided to ask him again why he ended up here. Buster, who up until this point was this happy go lucky dog, began to show sadness. I didn’t expect to see such an expression made by him; the look he had foreshadowed more than I would've ever expected.Buster finally answered with a simple sentence, "This is the first place in my life that I got to have a roof over my head." Such a simple statement shattered me. I didn't even know what to say. Buster just sat there looking away from me towards the other cages, as I struggled to even talk. He asked me what it was like to have such a loving family at some point. I wanted to rip him apart for asking me such a stupid question, but I stopped myself from acting out of anger because he was right; I did have a loving family at one point. I asked him why he asked me such a question. He responded, "Because I want you to realize that your idea of unfairness is much smaller than you think." Buster turned back around to look at me, now with tears filling his eyes. "This world has been so cruel to me and for what reason," he yelled. Seeing Buster like this was so unordinary, I couldn't figure out what was causing him this much trouble. I thought he had a great life before ending up in this kill shelter, but his eyes began to tell me otherwise. I learned that night that Buster did have a family but never once got to be with them. His family kept him outside on a chain ever since he could remember. A lot of his life he struggled to stay alive because his family would forget to feed him or give him water. During the winter seasons, he would always end up terribly sick from being out in the cold. The only help he would receive from his family was a thin blanket. Buster never once got to feel love. All he knew to do in this life of his was to have hope. That hope is what kept him alive, he told me. The reason he ended up in this kill shelter was because his family decided to move away and felt like Buster would be too much of a responsibility. From the very beginning of his time with this family, Buster thought that if he acted his best that they would one day love him. The only day they ever gave him the attention he desired was to say bye.After Buster explained everything to me and why he got upset, we went to sleep. I woke up the next morning, aching in the heart for him. Here I sat in this evil place thinking I had it worst, but no. I realized then that every animal in this place had their very own horror story. I felt so selfish and naïve.Some days passed after that night, and Buster was just like his old self again. I would just watch in amazement and think to myself the same question I asked before, "How could he be so full of happiness." I became so fixated on that question that I decided to ask him again, with the knowledge of his past. I guess you could say I was jealous. I was this miserable dog in a miserable place doing nothing. There was genuinely nothing worth being happy over. Yet, he looked at me with the biggest smile and just said one word. "Forgiveness."Hearing that response opened up a mindset for me that I never thought I was cable of. After all these years of pain and self-turmoil, I realized "it’s okay to let go". To move on and not let my past decide who I am or what I can be in this life. I learned then that forgiveness is okay. As crazy as that sounds, it was such a relief to understand. This hatred that has been built up for years is something that has taken away my life more than it should have. I am tired of this lifestyle and want to live my life to the fullest until I can't. The reason I was so jealous of Buster was because I yearned for that happiness he had. So, in that moment of realization, I forgave my family for what they did to me. Even though I will never understand why they did what they did, I am still thankful I got to experience being loved by them. It was time for me to move on and enjoy my final days in this shelter.With my change of heart, days at the shelter became better little by little. Buster and I would have our good talks, play outside together (or at least try to since he was younger than me), and enjoy eating meals together. This change of pace was the breath of fresh air I needed. I was so thankful for Buster; he truly was a great friend. During this time, there was a night that I looked back on where we had this wonderful conversation. It started with a simple question, "Do all dogs go to heaven?" I wanted to know if us dogs that ended up in this shelter still had a chance to make it to a better place. Buster believed we would; he said that he believes there is someone out there looking over us during these hard times. They would save us from this harsh life. It felt good hearing his take on the question, but I must say I still had my doubt. When I fell asleep that night, I had a dream that I was with my family again and that things were back to normal. I couldn't believe it, I was able to play with the young boy again, go on family trips like we used to, and see the young girl smile again. I got to experience all the things that made me happy, laugh, smile, and have peace. Once I woke up that morning, I had tears falling from my eyes. I thought to myself, if there is someone out there watching over me, please let me make it to heaven so that I can experience that dream again.

As time went on, I ended up having more dreams. Most I couldn't remember but others were flashbacks to memories I had with my family. Though, there was one that stuck out to me because of its unusual setting. In this dream, I awoke in this grass pasture. There was nothing but this open field of grass; it seemed to just go on forever. Walking around, I felt young and light. This was a feeling I hadn't had in a while. I ran around jumping through the field, amazed by nature. It was beautiful. I forgot what being youthful felt like. As I kept wondering through the grass, I noticed clouds begin to surround the sun. The "grass pasture" became dark and cold. As this was happening, my body became heavier and ached immensely. I suddenly wasn't young anymore and the pasture's warmth disappeared. I became scared; I was alone in this eerie field of nothingness, not knowing where to go. I wanted to hide but couldn't. Eventually the dream ended. I woke up confused and was trying to process what had just happened. As I laid there, a worker opened the door to the kennels. Light shined in my face, and I couldn't see what was happening. I began to hear the worker walking done the isles of kennels looking at each dog until they got to my kennel. They stopped and looked down at me with this blank look. It was a quiet moment; all the other dogs were asleep and here stood this worker looking at me with soulless eyes. The worker ended up walking away; I felt a small sense of relief. That relief lasted no longer than it came. The worker came back with a leash and again stood there silently, looking at me. Tears began to build up in my eyes has I looked back at the worker. This look that the worker was giving me was the same look I witnessed my first day here at the kill shelter. My time was up and I had to be okay with that.This now brings us to the present. Here I lay on this dirty table awaiting my final moments in this world. I am glad I was able to share my story with you. It feels nice getting all of this off my chest. My story is not over just yet, because I want you to do two favors for me. The first favor is telling Buster that I am sorry for not properly saying goodbye. He was asleep when I got dragged out of my kennel and I didn't have the chance to tell him myself. Let him know that I was grateful for our friendship and that I hope to see him again soon. He was a friend that I didn't deserve, but because of him I was able to enjoy my final moments with joy and peace. The last thing I want you to do for me is to please be by my side until I go; I fear what's coming.The worker has begun injecting some sort of fluid into my arm. It hurts; it hurts badly but I can't move. Please don't leave my side. As I lay here passing away, there is one more memory that I would like to tell you about. It takes me back to when I was a pup. My first day with my family was a beautiful one. The sun was shining and I was out running in the backyard. I was playing with the young girl, chasing her around the yard. There was laughter happening all around as the others watched. It was a time in which I was so happy to be with these people. I am telling you about this memory because I can hear the young girl's voice right now. The same voice I heard as I played in that backyard for the first time. It hurts that I won't get to experience that moment again, but I am thankful for the time I did.I am at a point now that I think I am ready to let go. I have been fighting this feeling for the past serval minutes, and I can't hold out any longer sadly. I would love to keep talking with you, but my life has reached its end. Thank you though for sitting around with me and my stories about a "dog that ponders".

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