A Farewell to Peanut

“I have attached a short essay that my 13 year old grandson, Ethan Hunter, wrote about losing his beagle, Peanut. He wrote this in a half hour writing assignment at school.”

by Ethan Hunter, 13

I woke up around 8. I had had one of the worst sleeps of my life. I knew the news about my dog the night before. I stayed up late next to my dog at night in my bed like I had been doing for 11 years. There’s something about sleeping with your dog that gives you a sense of comfort, that your guardian dog snuggled up next to you will protect you against all intruders. The worst part was trying to fall asleep, knowing that this would be the last night with my dog. But I did eventually fall asleep.

I don’t remember what I dreamt but I imagine that it was of all the great times with my dog. Back when my family was together in the good days. My brother, mother, father and I were still a family at the time. As soon as we got our dog, we became a family that everyone thought of. The family in the commercials, mother and father still together, all having fun with their puppy.

And that’s how it was for us. We would go to camping spots with my dog, hiking, driving, walking. Anything we’ve done, it’s been with my dog. My memory simply can’t stretch back so far in which it reaches a point where I didn’t have my dog. All my memories are at a point where I had my dog. Then my family split up, parents divorced, my brother and I would fight. But Wonderdog was there to help me.

I call my dog Wonderdog because of all the sickness he fought. He was to the point where we almost put him down. But Wonder Beagle would always hop up and fight. But I knew he wouldn’t hop to it this time and I knew he was in pain. We had to do it soon to put him out of his misery. But I wouldn’t dream of the bad times, just the good times.

I was the first one up that morning. My dog was right next to me, guarding me for eternity. I just sat there with him. Laid with him for about an hour. Then my dad and my brother woke up. My grandmother had spent the night, too, so she woke up as well. I picked up my dog and brought him downstairs to the living room, or as some call it, the family room. But for us at that point, it was neither. It couldn’t be a living room if something was dying and it definitely wasn’t a family room. My mom wasn’t there. She didn’t even live there.

But we reminisced as if it was, remembering once again the great times. Then, before I realized, we were loading my dog into the back of the van. But this was not my dog…my dog was happy, energetic and loving. This dog couldn’t even walk. In the car on the way there I realized something, though. He wasn’t sad or depressed. He was happy. He knew what was going to happen and yet he still looked ecstatic, smiling and licking us both. He was ready to go, and we were ready to let him go.

As soon as we pulled up to the ASPCA, we met my mom there. I didn’t realize that in the next five minutes I was going to have to make one of the hardest decisions of my life. But I managed. I was ready to let my dog, best friend of 11 years, part of the family, go. My family joined together in a sense of agreement that this was the right decision, which was met by sorrow. A few minutes later, the vet came out and told us he went peaceful, smiling all the way and not putting up a fight.

The ride home was terrible, however. My dog, or what used to be him, was in the back of the van, wrapped in blankets. I couldn’t bear to see him. I’m glad they didn’t let me see him go, or I wouldn’t have let them do it.

We decided to bury him just next to my yard, past a line of trees in a large field. He had always tried to get out of his electric fence to chase rabbits. So I thought, let him. We buried him in the corner of the field, then laid a few flowers over top it. Then a sense of relief came over me. I knew he was in a better place, chasing the bunnies.

Dogs are not just Man’s Best Friend. They are more. Like family they love you and take care of you and protect you. And you treat him just the same. A dog waits by the doors and windows to greet you once you get home. A dog is a stress, sorrow, pain and sadness reliever. A dog makes you feel happy when you’re sad. Unlike humans, dogs are always there for you. Even if they could speak they would ask for nothing in return but love.

There is a certain bond between dog and man, a certain relationship. One that two people could never share. That is why dogs are used in hospitals. They always put a smile on anybody’s face.

All dogs go to heaven, which in a way is unfortunate that such a wonderful dog could not be reincarnated for another worthy being. But I’ll always remember my amazing dog. And I’ll remember him not for the day when he left us. But all the great times. Except he didn’t leave us. I know that when he’s not chasing bunnies or playing fetch, he’s watching over us. And I know he will every step of the way, just like he used to.

80 thoughts on “A Farewell to Peanut

  1. Oh I just think that this so true. I love our dogs and when we have to let one go it is so hard. What a well written piece.

  2. (((hugs))) Ethan… I agree with you. I have a baby girl and I love her. She is part of my family and no ‘just a dog’ like most ppl say.
    I dread the day I’ll have to let her go. I’ll mourn and grief as I would any other member of my family.

  3. well written Ethan and so true, they are a part of the family, and when we lose them we grieve just like we do for a human family member

  4. I stopped reading when I discovered you hadn’t loved your dog enough to be with her at the moment she needed you most. When people say “they couldn’t bear to see it,” they really mean they are more important than the animal who has been faithful to you all your life. When a beloved pet has to be put down, that’s when the wheat gets separated from the chaff. Hopefully you will grow mature enough to understand that you need to be there for your dog, telling her you love her and she is the world’s best dog, especially as she is crossing the rainbow bridge.

    1. I understand what you’re saying, but it’s still a very nasty comment: “you hadn’t loved your dog enough”. You, madam, are an arrogant, egotistical, holier-than-thou, selfish bitch.

    2. He was a thirteen year old boy, you heartless bitch. You are hardly in a position to chastise someone for their lack of empathy and compassion when you offer none to a grieving child.

    3. I wish the 8 people that “liked” Chery’s comments would have the courage to step up and say why they liked her comment.

      Cowards. No, heartless cowards.

    4. There are so many things wrong with what you said, first i want to begin by saying you were not one bit sympathetic or understanding or kind to what this young boy went thru. You are YES entitled to your opinion…however what would be wonderful is that you first acknowledge what the young boy is going thru and then with respect give your comments. I dont think your comments would be appropriate to a young boy. I am guessing your a more mature person than he (certainly not by your response) so I would hope that you were more kind and understanding…..everyone makes mistakes and if you feel you did you should come back here and say so! When a young boy pours his heart out like that in such an admirable fashion (in one of his darkest moments) you should be loving and kind not mean-spirited and rude to say the least. Cheryl I hope you have learned something from your nasty comments and in the future think twice before you speak.

    5. If you were addressing an adult, I would probably agree with you. However, you’re addressing a child. What is wrong with you?

    6. Frankly you are an idiot! You are commenting to a child, you fool! Separating the wheat from the chaff? Really? That definitely applies in your case, a truly mature person would realize that this is a child, but you act as if this was an adult who abused this animal. For your information, because I think you need it, the animal hadn’t a clue what was going on. QUIT making them human, it is people like you, humanizing these dogs, that create an unreal and caustic environment for them and cause horrible neurosis for them. I’ve seen it all too often, let’s treat it like a child, carry it around as the animal slowly loses it’s mind from “love”. You are an idiot and I feel sorry for any animal you may own.

  5. Well, it’s too bad Cheryl that you stopped reading – had you read further you would have read: “I’m glad they didn’t let me see him go, or I wouldn’t have let them do it.”

    Maybe the vet would not let the family be there. The child does not mention that ANY member of his family was there.

    Don’t be so quick to judge people. This was a beautiful love story between and boy and his dog and it is very obvisous that he loved his dog with all his heart, especially the part where he buried him beyond the fence.

    I say shame on you.

  6. What a heartfelt love story so beautifully written! Thank you, Ethan, for sharing it with us. Peanut was lucky to have spent his life with you.

  7. very sweet…we just said goodbye to our 11 yr old yellow lab last December. hardest thing we’ve ever done. they are such a part of the family. 🙁

  8. I can’t believe a 13 year old wrote that. Very well done, I am in tears. This brings back a lot of memories for me of my Taylor. Huzzah!!

  9. Had to put my best fur friend down a year ago……what a beautiful story about a boy and his dog. Tears are flowing….thank you for sharing

  10. How sad yet sweet that this 13 year old young man could summarize his feelings for his friend that had to go and leave him, never to be forgotten, they love us to the last beat of their heart!

  11. This is so much more than a sad story about a beagle…this kid is a damn fine kid who can express himself quite nicely. But, you know, beagles do that for you.

  12. Ethan has a gift..he writes amazingly. My dog is also named Peanut and is also 11 and has slept almost everynite in my arms. my lil Pea has congestive heart failure and his spells are getting really bad. He too fights to be here and smiles and is happy giving me love and kisses…I JUST WANT TO SAY THANK YOU ETHAN FOR EXPRESSING WITH SUCH BEAUTIFUL WORDS HOW I TOO FEEL……**D**

  13. So moving. It brought me to tears. I had to say goodbye to my best buddy Buster last New Year’s Eve. It was one of the most difficult things that I have ever had to do, but I treasure the years that I had with him.

  14. Brought tears to my eyes to think of when my time would come to say goodbye to my dog 🙁 poor kid, i can only imagine what it must be like for him to loose his dog, whom he considered to be like his family. too sad…

  15. Beautifully written… Glad to know that even though this beagle had to go, his best friend still loves him and remembers him in such a beautiful way… I’m sure he’s watching over him now. 🙂

  16. This made me cry. Last year we had to make this decision for our 10 year old beagle. She had battled cancer for so long. We lost a close family member and my son lost his best friend.

  17. oh my what a touching essay from such a young person. Very well done, because you have very well loved. God bless.

  18. Really beautiful and poignant. It was also very well written – especially for a 13-year old. Thank you for sharing this. My heart really aches for his loss and his pain. Dogs are such wonderful companions!

  19. And…such a gift to receive on the day that my eldest dog was diagnosed with cancer. I hope I have the courage this boy has shared. Love and blessings to all that loved Peanut…together or not. ♥

  20. This was so beautiful, heartfelt, and touching. It made me cry. My heart goes out to Ethan for the loss of his precious Peanut. Peanut will always be with you, until you meet again one day, Ethan <3

  21. I totally understand your loss. I lost my Spencer last year and that last day, as we lay in bed together, made me both happy and broken hearted. I hope you will always hold Wonderdog in your heart and hopefully one day be able to share that love again. *hugs*

  22. this is a picture of my dog that died 3 years ago she meet the life to me I know what that boy went through, there never will be a human that will mean as much as dasiy did to me she was my friend .

  23. Tears are streaming down my face after reading this. My son is the same age, and he had the same connection with our Pepsi that Ethan had with Peanut. I relate to this on so many levels. We said goodbye to Pepsi last May at the age of 14. The memories you have with your Peanut, Ethan, will be with you forever. Hold on to those, and I hope you take some comfort in knowing you gave him a reason to wag his little tail every day. ♥

  24. I have just done my makeup, and have also recently lost two of my beloveds, so I can’t read this at the moment, but I will do at some stage.

  25. What a beautiful tribute, Ethan. I know that one day you will see Peanut again…may he rest in peace and may you find comfort in your beautiful memories.

  26. I do not ever cry over things but this I was sobbing! It’s amazing what a profound effect our dogs can make on us! May Peanuts be in doggy heaven!

  27. I’m so sorry for your loss, but your essay was a beautiful tribute to your faithful friend. Last summer, I loss both my dogs within a 48 hour period. It was easily one of the worst two days of my life. Like you, I try to remember them when they were happy and healthy. It helps me get through the day as I’m sure your good memories of WonderDog will help you.

  28. Ethan’s thoughts are expressed very well and are well written to know the full & true meaning of love of pet (family). I still remember my first dog Lassie and felt that way about her. I think of her often and they are always happy thoughts of dressing her up and her following me around to keep me safe.
    Your tribute and thinking means you are a good person.

  29. This is so beautifully written. My heart goes out to you, Ethan, for your loss. I can see how much you loved your Wonderdog and I know how you are feeling. I said goodbye to my little girl, Skye in August and it breaks my heart every day. Your essay put all of those feelings into words so eloquently. Thank you for sharing this with us.

  30. Our dogs are our best friends, indeed, and you articulated the meaning of that relationship beautifully. I am so sorry about Wonder Beagle, Ethan. You will find that our lives are a series of “hellos” and “goodbyes,” and we are so lucky to have had these wonderful four-legged pals in our lives, however temporarily. That’s what makes them precious and special. And you are to be commended for giving such a good life to a dog. Hopefully many other dogs will be so lucky to have you as their guardian as you move through your life, but we all know that we, the guardians, are the real lucky ones because even though we have to say goodbye someday, they enrich our lives immeasurably and give so much to us without our even asking. Thank you for sharing your story, Ethan. You’re a brave and thoughtful young man.

  31. @Cheryl, I will not judge you for the comment you made…apparently you feel the need to speak your mind, and that certainly is your right. What I do know is the pain of having to make that decision….and everyone has to deal with it in their own way…just like grieving….I may grieve differently than you but that doesn’t make your way right and my way wrong. Peace to you, and I am happy for your animals that you choose to be with them, I do also, but not everyone can….so please don’t judge

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