She was 6 months old when we met her. I remember very clearly the day she was brought in. She came in sitting royally on the front seat of a white Honda. A little scared, a little unsure we were both. Maybe she was hungry we thought. Very soon we found out - Oh boy, was she hungry!
She howled all through the night. Turns out she didn't know where to relieve herself. The living room was a mess. Come here Chocolate, sorry we didn't tell you where and how. She slept in my lap until sunrise.
The adjustment took a toll on everybody, probably her too and they were all ready to return her. Everyone except me. I knew she was coping up with us just as we were trying to adjust to her too.
And then a week was all it took for everybody to fall in love with her.
Ver soon she was all trained - In no time she could Hi5, handshake, stay down, sit, jump up, hold a rat by its tail - you name it, she knew it. So smart! And she was multi-lingual too.
And loved to swim. Hated baths. Hated toothpaste. Loved playing with frogs and lizards.
And then all of a sudden, our dog died this morning. Had an epileptic fit. Just like that. It just seems so unfair that somebody has to die this way. No rhyme or reason to epilepsy attacks. There are so many things that you take for granted. The overjoyed greeting of your pet being one.
And then all of a sudden it just stops. There is nobody wagging their tail behind you. Following you around like they're joined at the hip to you. Nobody to wake you up in the morning. Nobody begging you to take them for a walk in the morning. You try and move stealthily to the fridge from your bedroom door hoping not to wake anybody up - but of course there's the lightsleeper panting behind you so loud - you're afraid the neighborhood would wake up. Not anymore.
As I sit here reeling in with the sudden loss - the world seems like a lonely place. The emptiness is engulfing. There are people around but what's the point. They wont be for long it seems. A stupid fit can end it all.
To everybody who's loved and lost - I feel you - but I so wish I couldn't.
She howled all through the night. Turns out she didn't know where to relieve herself. The living room was a mess. Come here Chocolate, sorry we didn't tell you where and how. She slept in my lap until sunrise.
The adjustment took a toll on everybody, probably her too and they were all ready to return her. Everyone except me. I knew she was coping up with us just as we were trying to adjust to her too.
And then a week was all it took for everybody to fall in love with her.
Ver soon she was all trained - In no time she could Hi5, handshake, stay down, sit, jump up, hold a rat by its tail - you name it, she knew it. So smart! And she was multi-lingual too.
And loved to swim. Hated baths. Hated toothpaste. Loved playing with frogs and lizards.
RIP Chocky |
And then all of a sudden, our dog died this morning. Had an epileptic fit. Just like that. It just seems so unfair that somebody has to die this way. No rhyme or reason to epilepsy attacks. There are so many things that you take for granted. The overjoyed greeting of your pet being one.
And then all of a sudden it just stops. There is nobody wagging their tail behind you. Following you around like they're joined at the hip to you. Nobody to wake you up in the morning. Nobody begging you to take them for a walk in the morning. You try and move stealthily to the fridge from your bedroom door hoping not to wake anybody up - but of course there's the lightsleeper panting behind you so loud - you're afraid the neighborhood would wake up. Not anymore.
As I sit here reeling in with the sudden loss - the world seems like a lonely place. The emptiness is engulfing. There are people around but what's the point. They wont be for long it seems. A stupid fit can end it all.
To everybody who's loved and lost - I feel you - but I so wish I couldn't.