[ WP ] `` Every person sees the world in a unique way . When someone dies it is , in a way , the death of an entire world . ''

Alice put her hands on her cheeks as she bent down to examine the neighbor's cat. `` It's so fluffy! ``, she giggled, her eyes gleaming. Buster watched the cat warily and gave a low growl. I always wondered if he thought of the cat as a threat and that one day the cat would steal Alice from him. As I stood watching them, I saw her as my little princess and her valiant guardian, who watches over her. It was a happy world and I would have given up anything to keep it that way. 
 
 But everything changed this morning, when I left the gate unlocked after checking the mailbox. Buster bolted after the ice-cream truck. He always had a thing for those. I do n't think he even knew what he'd do if one day he caught up with it. Thinking it was another game of catch-me-if-you-can, Alice bolted right after him. As soon as I saw her exit the gate, I ran out of the house and called after her. Anyone paying attention should have heard the ruckus. Buster barking at the ice-cream truck, Alice calling after Buster and the panic in my voice as I called after her. But the neighborhood punk kid, who saw the world as just another Need For Speed map, did n't. He was too busy fiddling with the buttons on the dashboard of his brand new car, music blasting so loud you could hear the beats outside the car. 
 
 It was as if the world slowed down in front of me as I heard the squealing breaks. As soon he heard the sound, Buster forgot about the ice cream truck and turned around. I saw Alice go under the car. Even the neighbor's cat, decided to take a break from his nap and investigate what was going on. Buster and I reached the car at the same time, but it was already too late. 
 
 Tonight, the world is different for Buster and I. The house is eerily quiet. There is no sound of scampering feet of a 6 year old chased by a giant 50 pound dog. We barely ate dinner, and all I could think of was how Buster and Alice would make puppy-dog-eyes after dinner for dessert. Even though it was called puppy-dog-eyes, I was n't sure who had taught that look to whom. The thought brought half a smile to my face and I turned to look at Buster. But the spark in his eyes is no more. 
 
 As Buster and I sit by the fireplace, we hold on to one of Alice's scarves. I expect Buster to whimper every time thunder strikes. He was always scared of those even when he was a pup. But he is quiet. I do n't think he even hears it anymore. All he thinks of is Alice as he stares at the fireplace, hoping to catch a glimpse of her in the flickering flames. 
 
 With Alice gone, the worlds Buster and I knew until this morning were gone too. As I sat there hugging Buster, I wondered how the loss of one life had brought an end to all of our worlds. 

