The gloomy winter mornings of early January had a looming feeling that lingered over all who had the burden of experiencing it. January, the start of a new year, brings an abundance of opportunities, but also an abundance of anxieties. Questions about the next chapter of your life begin to spiral in your head. What will the new year bring? How will my life change? How will my family change? My friends? Should my life be changing? I mean it is a new year, should things in my life become different? The start of a new year brings the unknown, it’s like a horror movie. Some love the thrill of what’s going to happen next, while others squirm at not knowing what the future has in store. In the early days of January 2020, I couldn’t even begin to envision what the year had in store for me, waiting to jump out at any moment and completely redirect my life.

To start off my 2020, I lost my childhood pet, which always holds such a special place in the heart. In the early January days, the Mabius family pet was living out his last. He was old. He had been sick for a while. Even though it was his time, it didn’t stop it from hurting any less. I awoke on the morning of January 4th, with an almost indescribable feeling. A mixture of dread and sadness and guilt and fear and angst swirled and clouded my heavy heart that early January morning. Waking up knowing my dog's fate, leading him to his end, was an absolutely gut wrenching and soul crushing experience that I knew I had to endure for the sake of my best friend. It seemed every time Becks would get better, when there was a spark of life back inside him again, and I could begin to see the light at the end of the tunnel of his recovery, everything would unravel again. He’d start doing worse again. It would seem like his time was finally coming. Like there was no more life left in him. Then there would be a spark of hope again. I had to make the decision on what was best for my best friend. I always viewed Becks as my own, even though he was a family pet. He was just so special to me, we had a bond that no one else in the family could replicate with him. Realizing it was time for him to go, and deciding his journey was over, was a terribly difficult thing to accept. In a way, it felt selfish to me. Why did I get to decide it was his time to pass on? Was I doing this for myself? Was I choosing to end his life because I didn’t want to watch him suffer anymore? Was it just because it was too hard on me to watch him live out his days in pain? I seesawed back and forth for what felt like ages on if putting Becks down was the right decision. I ultimately came to the realization it was, he wasn’t living anymore. He was technically still alive. He was still breathing. He still had a heartbeat. But that spark, the spark inside of us, inside of him, had already died.  He wasn’t enjoying his days anymore, it would have been wrong to stand by and let him suffer, just because I wanted as many days as I could get with him. Making him endure pain, existing as a barely living life form, would have been selfish. Letting him go, letting his soul be free once again, is what was right for him. 

The appointment was at 7:30am on the Saturday morning of January 4th. The cold, winter morning air greeted me cruelly. It was so crisp, it was intoxicatingly suffocating. The car ride to the vet was silent. There was nothing to say. Nothing to make this easier. Nothing to laugh or reminisce on, just feelings of anxiousness and sadness and nervousness and dread were looming during that car ride. That car ride felt like eternity, but really it only took about seven minutes. Becks didn’t like the car rides as he got older because he knew he was just going to the vet, never to the dog park or a place he used to enjoy. Once my mom and I arrived, it all just happened so fast. They put the IV’s in him and then injected him with the medicine that made his heart stop beating forever. My mother and I left in tears. He was gone. It actually happened. This is my reality now. He was gone, forever. 

Adjusting to life without a dog was painful for me. Becks was in my family before I even was. We grew together. He watched me grow up and I watched him grow old. Becks’ passing set the precedent for a year full of change for me. My family did change. I did lose a friend, I lost my best one. My family did go on to adopt more dogs, but no dog could ever fill the spot of my beloved first pet. I lost other friends too. The global pandemic of COVID-19 hit and ended my 8th grade school year early, which left me devastated. I was looking forward to ending the year surrounded by the friends I made along my middle school journey, who I thought would continue to be my friends throughout high school. I lost contact with almost all of them during the quarantine of the pandemic. Feelings of isolation from friends and family and the outside world led to feelings of depression. My mind began to plunge into a downward spiral. What was the point of anything? The world was in a state of panic and chaos, was anything ever going to be normal again? Anxiety crept in on what high school was going to be like. How was I going to start the most important years of my teenage life in a global pandemic? 2020 was a hard year for Cate Mabius. I had to endure. I went through a lot of inner turmoil and did a lot of self discovery. That year was a hard one, but it was an integral part in shaping me to be the person I am today. A lot of barriers I didn’t even know I had were broken down that year. I’m happy to say I’ve changed a lot since 2020, my life and my confidence have considerably improved, and even though I went through some rough times in 2020, I’m appreciative of the things that I went through, as they have allowed me to become the person I am today, and I’m pleased with the person I’ve matured into.