I'm going on a trip to Kentucky when I spot a dog on the ground, weeping. "Aunt Karen, stop the car!" She pulls over, also seeing the dog. "Want to pick it up?" I ask. "Sure!" Is the reply. We pick up the dog and says, "Cristiano is my name." I almost drop him. "You can talk?" I exclaim. "Yep!" Cristiano says. We put him into the front seat. 5 and 1/2 hours later, Cristiano puts his head out the window and accidentally falls. He hits a really sharp metal piece. We stop the car again. "I'm fine!" He limps back to the car. We open the door and put him in the front seat, this time with the windows closed. We then put a handkerchief around his hurt paw.
When we finally got to Kentucky at my cousin Will's house, the dog collapses. We rush to the nearest vet and she finally tells us, "There's nothing we can do. It's too late." I start to cry. "Does that mean-" "We have to put him down." The vet tells me. "He's already losing his life."
Cristiano thought of that handkerchief as a good luck charm, but in the end, his last words were, "Don't remember me."
In the end of the dream, it said, "Play again?" At this instant I hit yes, but it was too late. My dream ended. I had no chance of saving Cristiano's life.
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