Hershey's life - or death - could never be explained in fitting words.  Shortly after my 12th birthday, I rescued him from the local animal shelter just days before they were going to put him to sleep.  At the same time, he rescued me.  He helped me grow into the woman I am today, and I wouldn't be here without him.  He taught me the meaning of unconditional love, showed me the depth of my heart, and opened my eyes to the strength I had within me when it was time to let him go.  Although I am far from surprised that God wanted him back in Heaven, it kills me to be down here on earth without him.  He was my everything...my first child.  It seems as though no one can comprehend what it meant for me to lose him, but everytime I pause within the rush of my life, tears come flowing to the forefront, although it petrifies me to let them out because I fear they'll never stop.  All I can hope for Hershey now is that he is happy, and that he is not watching me grieve for him, because I never want him to see that anything about him has made me sad.  All I know is that when it is my own time to go, I can never be scared, for I will know that I will finally be on my way to see Hershey again.