In my household, animals have always been an important part of our family. For me, Corky was like a little brother. Only not the annoying, sticking weird things up his nose and cutting your hair while you sleep kind. More like that cool little brother that chills with you and listens to you ramble on about life. I'm not sure if that kind of little brother exists, but for all intents and purposes, he does.

I've had Corky for as long as I can remember, my family got him when I was about three. The family that had owned him before was moving so they left him in the care of someone who owned horses until they returned to get him. Well, they never came to get him. And Corky, being a natural herder (Border Collie/Australian Shepherd mix), liked to try and herd the horses. The horses weren't so fond of this, and kept trying to kick him. So the family gave Corky to us.

I don't remember much about Corky when I was young. Except that instead of shaving him, my family would vacuum his hair, which he didn't like so much. I also remember that he jumped clear over my head one day when I was about four or five (I've always been a pretty tall kid). I don't remember much about him until after I moved to California.

I remember that I used to tie him to the wagon and try to get him to pull me around. That didn't work out so well, he was a pretty lazy dog. I also remember that one day my cat, Tigra, got mad at him for whatever reason, and attacked his butt. She got stuck, her claws were stuck in his butt (no, seriously). He really didn't even notice, he just kept on walking, until he got tired of her hanging there, so he just sort of shook his end there, and knocked her off, and kept walking.

When I got a little older, and we moved to a different house, Corky really became my confidante. I mean, who better to tell all of my secrets to than a dog? He couldn't tell anyone else. And he listened to me talk, most likely waiting for me to say something about taking a walk or food time. So sometimes, when my human friends let me down, Corky was my best friend.

Corky was always a very quiet dog, submissive too. But he had sort of a small rebelious streak. Mostly to do with stealing food. One time he stole hotdog straight of the grill. We wouldn't have noticed, except that his whiskers were melted. Also, on my thirteenth birthday, he ate a whole plate of brownies when I wasn't looking. I was scared that he would get really sick and die. He didn't even puke. He also ate all of my easter candy one year. So I guess, he really was like my brother.

I don't remember Corky really ever barking, until we got Mikey, who was the same breed but looked and acted totally different, go figure. And even then, he didn't bark that much. I don't even really remember what his bark sounded like.

Around the time Corky was roughly fifteen (near the same age as me), his health started declining very quickly. He developed what is called Canine CDS, or Canine Cognitive Dysfunction Syndrome. Basically, it's like Alzheimer's for dogs. He started to wander aimlessly around the house, he would stand staring at a wall, because he forgot where he was going. He even started to forget who we were. His teeth were awful, and made it hard for him to eat. He also had severe arthritis in his hips, that had completely demolished the joints. He was going blind, and deaf. And could no longer hold his bladder.

We had to tie him up outside, because he would make a huge mess inside, we weren't ready to let go. I chose to tie him up to the tree right outside my bedroom window, so that I could watch him. It was very depressing, he would get wound up around the tree, and not remember how to unwind himself.

Yeah, that's him. His coat used to be very shiny, and healthy. He used to have promintent hip bones. And flies didn't used to eat his ears as snacks.

So finally, my mom took me aside and asked me if we should put him down. She asked me because he had really grown to be my dog. And as much as I hated it, I knew that we should. Corky was merely existing, he wasn't living. He couldn't even stay standing or sitting for any long period of time. And he didn't even know who we were anymore.

So in mid-September of 2005, we had Corky put down.

I remember very clearly the day after, I went outside to go feed Corky. And I got down to where his water bowl and food bowl still were, and just broke down. So I dedicated that tree to him. It's a beautiful tree, possibly a plum tree, but I'm not sure. I wish I still lived in that hous so that I could have the tree.