“You can have as much time as you like.” The vet tells me before leaving the room. I hold onto Anna and try not to cry. I don’t want her to remember me like this. She turns to face me and rubs her nose on my cheek as if to say ‘everything will be okay.’ But it won’t. I remember when we picked her up from my Uncle’s house as a puppy when I was just three. I got to carry her to the car.
“We should probably do it soon. She doesn’t like it here.” My mom tells me. I knock on the door and the vet returns. We lift her up onto the table and the vet explains the procedure.
“It’s just an overdose of the anesthetic. She won’t feel any pain. You’ll be able to see results within thirty seconds.” I nodd my head and stand by Anna. The vet takes a picture of us together and shaves a small square off her foot. I watch the needle go beneath her skin and hold her head up by mine.
Fifteen seconds later her head weighs down my hand, and I lay it on the table. Ten seconds later, she’s gone.