She was once taken good care of - a roof over her head and probably three meals a day (or more).
She was once abandoned and became a stray dog – any space with a shade would do and anything that could be considered as food (or anything that could be swallowed) was enough.
She was again well taken care of and was even reborn with a name named Taylor – not only a roof over her head but a home with a real family and the indefinite “three meals a day” (because it was indeed more)
She didn’t grow up in that new house. Everything was new. But as we didn’t expect her coming, she was the most loyal of all. I can’t remember when was the last time we had a pet who never failed to bring us to where we were headed and fetch us when she sensed that we were back. Maybe it was her way of giving back. She was indeed a keeper.
It was just last year when Papa brought her home. I can still remember how excited I was to meet her. I would never forget Mama and the rest of the family’s reaction when they were describing how hideous Taylor was – (with the intense emphasis of “very”) filthy and thin. They didn’t like her right away. But just in a few months of stay with us, her body improved and her hair had “golden” -ed. We were happy and proud of her transformation.
With the instinct of a stray dog, she was used to wandering outside. She would play with the neighbors’ dogs. Well, there were male dogs and Taylor had her period and was ready for copulating. Hence, she got pregnant. I was happy that she was. I was excited for her puppies.
I consulted Mr. Google and asked him what the manifestations of a pregnant dog are. I even failed to see them at Taylor. I was unhappy for I thought she wasn’t really pregnant. Silly!
She gave birth to five cute little puppies which I named Usher, Danny, Alicia, Nicki, and Katie.
But like how I did not expect her and the puppies coming, I didn’t see her death coming as well. It was just yesterday that I found out she passed away due to complications of giving birth. The decision of crying never crossed my mind, but as I try to hold back the tears (I’m in the classroom with my pupils for crying out loud), it welled up. It’s like a downpour of rain – uncontrollable and raging. I never imagined that I could be this sad, that mourning for a dog is possible.
I know what I feel now will pass. But I guess, just like having a broken heart from a failed relationship, this is the part where you feel that moving on is boundless – a never-ending process and all you want to do is succumb to the sadness.
uploading the attached picture breaks my heart. it’s as if will never be whole again.