You were just a month old when we brought you into our lives. You lil fur ball worth Rs. 500. You were the smallest amongst all your siblings and no one seemed to want you. I thank those others for not wanting you, how else would you have blessed us with your indispensable presence.After those beautiful 14 years, how do I watch you suffer now, right here in my arms. I knew it would come to this, the day the doctor told us about your tumor, but nothing could have prepared me for the pain I would have to go through. Here you are now, coughing blood and begging us to help, your beautiful button eyes now getting glazed. Do you even recognize us? All I want right now is for you to die, go away from this cruel world, escape the pain, pay no more for a sin you didn't commit.
I watch you now and know it's only a matter of time before you'll evaporate into nothingness and I can hear the clock ticking between your coughs. How do I accept that the clock is counting down your last minutes. How do I accept that I won't hear your bark when I ring the bell anymore. How do I accept that when I come up the stairs, I wont hear you sniffing excitedly from the other side of the door, sensing my presence even before you see me.
How do I accept that I won't move my feet below the table and find a warm, fuzzy rolled up creature there. How do I accept that I can't drop food around the house because no little furry vacuum cleaner will come around to clean it up. How do I accept that I can stay in the bathroom for as long as I want because you won't come and whine outside the door because you need to come in and pee.
How do I accept that I won't look out the window and feel you behind me getting restless because you want to sit at the window too. How do I accept that you won't need comforting when the loud crackers are burst during Diwali because you just aren't there. How do I accept that every time achhan goes to the bathroom, I won't find you outside it, trying to furiously dig your way through the marble floor.
How do I accept that every time I pick out a black tee shirt, I wont find little white fur clinging to it even after a couple of washes. How do I accept that you won't follow me to the kitchen every time I go there. How do I accept that when amma is cutting dudhi, I won't find you waiting patiently in the kitchen for your share.
How do I accept that I can't sing and dance for you anymore. How do I accept that I won't get to call you my Valentine on Feb 14. How do I accept that now I won't get irritated hearing chechi calling you weird names or singing the stupidest of songs to you. How do I accept that I won't see muddy little flower shaped paw prints on the staircase, a sure sign that you had been to the garden.
How do I accept that I can leave food on the table before going to bed and not find it scattered all over the floor in morning. How do I accept that I wont hear you howling in your sleep in the middle of the night and have me and chechi come to you and help you go back to sleep.
Who will keep me company when I'm staying up late studying or watching T.V. Who do I feed the food I don't feel like eating. Who do I cry to or call names when I feel frustrated. Who do I use as my pillow when I lie on the floor. Who do I hug and kiss and feel the world is right again.
It’s going to be so difficult to live without you Sweety, our baby, our clown, our punching bag, our angel. You’ve been the best dog. You rest now.
