AN~ My cat is dead, as of the afternoon this was written. This is my way of coping. And editing it is my way of coping with my dog dying.
Disclaimer: Charles Shultz is dead, like my cat. Therefore, I am not him.
When Snoopy died, the whole neighborhood was shocked.
They should have seen it coming, all the adults said. After all, he was an old dog, at least ten, and he'd been looking worse and worse every day.
The teenagers nodded and said yes, but still, everyone had thought he'd live forever, or at least as long as they did. He was so human, so alive, how could he be dead?
Charlie Brown took it the hardest. He just sat at the window for hours, looking at the doghouse. Sally couldn't get him to do anything, hard as she tried. Eventually, she gave up on him, and went to her parents, asking if they could have a proper funeral for Snoopy. They said yes, so Sally called up the whole gang. Everyone said they'd come, even some of the kids who'd moved away from the neighborhood.
They all showed up at the Brown home three hours later, dressed in black and with somber looks on their faces. Even Woodstock was there, no longer the fuzzy yellow thing he had been, but a somber old mourning dove, as he had been for years.
They buried Snoopy beneath the kite-eating tree, wrapped in the tattered remains of Linus's baby blanket, in the box that had once been Lucy's psychiatry booth. Peppermint Patty laid a dozen roses on the top of the box after it was lowered into the hole Rerun had dug, while Schroeder played a melancholy tune on his baby piano, one no one had ever heard before.
They all stepped back for a minute, and looked at the grave. Somehow, it felt like they weren't just burying a dog, but all of their childhoods along with it. It was almost as if Snoopy had kept them from merging with the adult world.
Finally, Linus stepped forward.
"'Bye, Snoopy. You weren't my dog, and I hated all those times you tried to steal my blanket, but I'd give anything to see you drag it away from me again. You were a good dog, and we'll all miss you."
Linus stepped back, and Lucy took his place. They all said something, even if it was just a simple goodbye. Lucy told him how annoying he was. Frieda hoped he was chasing rabbits in the sky. Peppermint Patty said he'd seemed almost human to her, sometimes. Marcie agreed and said his fantasies were some of her favorite memories. Sally said he made the best guard dog in the world, weird as his gun was.
Finally, everyone but Charlie Brown had said something. The others all looked at him, clad in a black polo shirt with a gray stripe zigzaging its way across the center, waiting for him to say something- anything. He stepped forward, but what came out wasn't a long speech, like they'd been expecting but a simple, "You were the best dog in the world, Snoopy. Sometimes I thought you were my only friend. I will NEVER stop missing you."
Most of them left, after that. Schroeder went home and put the piano in the attic. It felt fitting, that the last song he every played on it was one he had composed for Snoopy. Frieda, Patty, and Violet all began fawning over Frieda's cat, grateful that he was still alive. Only Linus, Lucy, Rerun, Peppermint Patty, Sally, Marcie, and Charlie Brown stayed, holding a silent vigil for a while. Eventually, though, Marcie had to return home, followed by the Van Pelts, and it was just Sally, Charlie Brown, and Peppermint Patty. Even Sally left after a time, but the two others stood there until the sun set and afterwards, not saying a word.
Even Peppermint Patty had to go eventually, though.
She was walking away when Charlie Brown called after her, "Thanks. Staying with me, just being there, that was the best thing you could have done."
"I'll be there whenever you need me, Chuck," Patty called back. "No matter what it is, all you have to do is ask."
Charlie Brown looked at her, startled. "Wow. Thanks."
"No problem." Peppermint patty smiled sadly. "After all, you'd do the same for me, right?"
"Yeah," Charlie Brown said softly. "See you in school tomorrow?"
"See you!" Peppermint Patty returned, running off into the night.
Charlie Brown stayed at the grave a while longer, thinking. He wasn't better yet, despite what Sally had tried to do for him. Maybe he never would be. But he was on his way, and the whole world hadn't died with Snoopy. This had reminded him of that. He returned home, his heart nowhere near healed, but beginning to glue itself back together.