I came across this article in the ST – Gen Y section today.
It made me recall the day Diesel died. I wasn’t there when she breathed her last. She just slept and never woke up. When whiskey died, I wasn’t there too. On her final trip to the animal hospital, i wasn’t there. I did go over the following day but found out that she had been cremated with the other dogs already.
Each pet brought such fond memories. Each pet taught me lessons. They loved me. And I loved them. A true, innocent, honest and pure form of love. Genuine love. In a relationship where the pet never betrays its master. If there were any form of betrayal, it would be the other way round. The trust and faith a pet puts on its maser is something I’ve always wished I could do. Sure, maybe you’d say dogs are not as intelligent. They are quite stupid. Perhaps they don’t know how to count and speak english. But look at myself. I’m a scheming, cunning arse who is capable of doing lots of horrid things if I wish to. A dog’s life today is nothing like the past. It looks forward to seeing its master at the end of the day. It’s next meal. Provides comfort and solace. It lies next to you and feels your emotions quietly. It doesn’t judge you. And it does love you. I remember the finals days of whiskey’s life, where she had to run into the bathroom ever so often. She chose to lay just outside the bathroom, refusing to move further from it even though it wasn’t that weak yet. It seemed as if she is worried she would dirty the floor outside if she didn’t make it into the bathroom in time. She never wanted to trouble us. She has been one of us and will always be one of us. With Diesel, she’s pretty much the same. EXcusing herself when she knows she could be getting in the way. She never gave us any problems at all. Not once. Sure, I still carry a scar from a bite she gave me when I first took her home, and you know what, in a way I’m happy she did. Everytime I see the scar, I’d think of her.
Folks, please don’t ill treat your pets. No matter what. They don’t deserve it one bit. Pets aside, don’t ill treat any animals at all. They all have equal rights to roam this earth as we do. As a kid I’ve seen how the market people slit the throats of chickens and then throw them into a steamer to remove their feathers. The chickens were steamed alive. Literally. And what about the clips we see online of how they handle certain animals. Skinning an animal alive for its coat or fur. In a kingdom where i is a dog eat dog world, it is fair to say we need to kill to eat and survive. But if it has to die, can it be done in a humane way. Such a small helpless creature. We are such big bullies aren’t we. “Pick someone or something of your own size”, I’d say.
One day I’ll adopt another dog again. I don’t wanna buy one off the shelves from a pet store. They are normally of good breeds yes, but are they necessarily worth less than the local cross bred ones? The fortunate breeds are those that are in high demand but it doesn’t make them better pets than the other less popular ones.A pet is not a show piece nor a furniture. It is a relationship between a master and a pet. You’ll know if a particular animal is right for you, if you use more than just your eyes to observe.
Don’t let a shiny coat fool you. As some say, it’s okay to let a fool kiss you, but let not a kiss fool you.
Here’s the story from ST. Thank you laura, for sharing.
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Saying goodbye to my dog Milkshake
The Pen Awards 2006 Upper Secondary Category 2nd Prize Winner Laura Tan Li Ting of Methodist Girls’ School
FOR as long as I can remember, my family consisted of five and a half members.
My father, my mother, my two sisters and I made up the five. The last half is our golden retriever, Milkshake. He was considered to be one of the family because he shared our joy and sorrows and joined us in our family activities as much as possible.
Milkshake had always been a part of my life because we grew up together. We got him when I was one. At that time, he was only a puppy. By the time I was three, he and I were inseparable. We played together, got dirty together and slept together.
When I was young, Milkshake played a very significant role in my life. He was the only one whom I could pour out my troubles to without worrying about boring him to tears. After I had confided in him, he would give me a comforting lick that would always make me feel better. Even though he was shared by the family, he was my special friend.
As I grew older, I ended up spending less time with Milkshake because there always seemed to be something else that was more important. Furthermore, he was getting enough attention from everyone else and I was sure he would not miss me.
In July last year, we brought Milkshake for his health check-up only to find that he was diagnosed with cancer.
I was dumbfounded and could not believe what I was hearing. The whole earth came crashing down upon me. I wished it was a just a nightmare and once I woke up, everything would resume as usual. Unfortunately, it was the cold, hard truth. Milkshake only had another three more months to live.
The months flew by like lightning and it was soon time for my end-of-year examinations. Although the exams were just around the corner, I did not have the heart to study. Every single minute of my time in the day was spent with Milkshake, whose condition was deteriorating fast and was getting thinner and weaker each day.
Every minute spent with him was precious in my eyes. Only after he went to sleep was I willing to leave his side so I ended up burning the midnight oil. Yet, no matter how tired I was the following day, I would not allow myself to fall asleep lest something happened.
On the night before my examinations, Milkshake was wheezing very badly and could barely move an inch. I knew that Milkshake would definitely not make it through the next day.
Milkshake was top priority at that moment and everything else seemed completely insignificant. I wanted desperately to be there in the last moments of his life, so I sacrificed my sleep and stayed up through the night and stroked him as he rested against my knee.
Morning came and I had to go to school. I was debating with myself whether or not to go to but my mother forced me to. Initially, I protested but after being reassured that Milkshake was in good hands, I gave in. Before leaving the house, I gave Milkshake a kiss and promised to be back soon.
Throughout the examination, my thoughts were all on Milkshake. I could not pull myself together to concentrate on the paper. There was another paper that I had to sit for after a short break. While my classmates were pacing up and down the corridor trying to cram last-minute knowledge into their head, I dashed downstairs to call home to check on Milkshake.
My mother reported that judging by his behaviour, he may not make it till I come home. I was torn between staying at school and going home to bid Milkshake a final farewell. My mother insisted that I stay so she put me on speakerphone. I told Milkshake that he must wait for me no matter what, wait till I come home.
My voice alone seemed to give Milkshake more strength and courage to fight on and he lifted up his head as though he wanted to assure me. After taking my final paper for the day, I rushed all the way back to Milkshake’s bedside.
When I pushed open the door, Milkshake was lying on his mat. He was very weak. His wheezing had become worse and was having difficulty breathing. I ran to sit down beside him. He gave his tail a little wag, as though greeting me when I arrived back home, just like old times.
‘Thanks for waiting for me!’ I whispered tearfully as I gave him a comforting pat. Upon sensing my presence, he gingerly lifted up his head and looked deep into my eyes. I felt tears welling up inside my eyes. Choking them back, I added, ‘You have been a good dog, Milkshake. It is alright for you to rest now.’
Tears started rolling uncontrollably down my face. He gratefully gave me one last lick and he breathed his last breath.
My heart felt as though it was being ripped apart. Memories of Milkshake flooded my mind. I could picture myself playing with him, laughing and having lots of fun. I could just imagine his twinkling eyes looking at me and his tail wagging vigorously whenever he saw me come home from school.
I could recall how much fun we had together while we were both growing up, how he listened patiently to my problems, lent me a shoulder to cry on when I was sad and shared many happy times with me. Tears silently rolled down my eyes.
I lost my best friend and could never get him back. All the joy, the laughter, the sorrow, the fun had all become a thing of the past. That was truly the day that changed my life. I lost something of great value and importance to me, the friendship of my best companion, a friendship built on love and trust, a friendship that was irreplaceable.
