Daisy Maze

She sits next to me, her tongue out and panting away from the dry heat. I am sitting next to her, my arms wrapped around her body protectively. Tears fall down my face, falling onto her white fur. 

"Come on Daisy, you don't have to die!" I whispered to my polar bear of a dog. 

Daisy didn't answer. She kept panting. 

The poor baby hadn't eaten in a week and had stopped going outside, and moving around. She was only nine years old. She shouldn't die yet, right? 

It brought me to tears to think of a time without her by my side. My big fluffball, who I shared many birthday parties with, and had gone through the rough times by my side. The dog that I loved, and always would love. 

Mom finally had to pull me off of her, but I didn't go without a fight. I kicked and screamed, trying to get back to Daisy's side. I would not leave her, no matter what. I tried so hard to get away, to be able to go and see my dog one last time. But Dad closed the car door and drove off. 

I never saw Daisy again.