Kallie

Kallie

3/31/94-6/5/08

How do you say goodbye to someone who has been a part of your life for as long as you can remember?

I can’t remember a day before Kallie.

But I do remember the day I met her. I remember, at 5-years-old, walking into my bedroom after a vacation at my grandparent’s house. I remember seeing her jump off my bed, the same bed I have today, and run up to me, tail wagging. It never stopped wagging.

From that day on she became my sister. The sister I never had

I remember so much about her. I remember the way, in her younger years, she would bark when we got ice from the refrigerator door. How she would chase the vacuum and bark at it like it was an intruder threatening the ones she loved.

I remember the way she always got her claws stuck in her hair when she would scratch, and my parents and I would always debate over whose turn it was to untangle her.

I remember the way my dad made up songs about her while he and I sat in the kitchen eating breakfast.

I remember how when we cleaned up dinner, she would always stick her head in the trashcan looking for scraps.

How she never barked or growled at me all those times I tortured her. How she never barked or growled at anyone. Ever. No matter what.

I remember her sideways walk. The way she sauntered up the driveway when you called her to come inside. And the way she ignored me when she didn’t want to come in, moving further down the street.

I remember how on every single road trip we ever went on she would beg me for McDonald’s French fries, and how it was always my mom who would give them to her.

I remember how, in the end, she could barely get up once she lay down. How she never really got used to the wood floors and would scratch her way to an upright position.

How she followed my mom everywhere she went. How she walked in circles while we watched our favorite TV shows and we all begged her to be still. I’m going to miss the clicking of her walk now. I wish I could get it back.

I remember how she used to stand in the window watching us as we pulled out of the driveway, and how she was always happy to see us when we got home.

I remember so much more about my sister. I will always remember the girl who grew up beside me. Who always remembered me, even when I went off to school. I could go on forever about her playfulness, kindness, and care.

Kallie will always be remembered in my family as a member of our family. When you’re around for 14 years that’s what you are. A pet, a friend, a sister. Loyal until the very end, just like a best friend should be.

So, Kallie, I love you. I’ll miss you. I hope you are enjoying your first day in heaven, alongside Maggie. It’s about time she got to meet you. Make sure she gives you as many treats as McKenzie and as much cheese as Ma. Enjoy the clouds under your feet and the rainless skies. Run and play and keep an eye out for me, because when I get there I want a kiss from the sister I always wanted, never had, and found in you.