I lost my baby at 5:49 on a Friday afternoon
Grief for an animal is such a strange emotion to have. Some people may say that she was just a dog, that I could always just get a new one– like she was just a plaything that I’ve had for the past ten years. The thing is, I can’t have you again.
Nobody would be crazy enough to bark each time I went out my room just so she can greet me, wag her fluffy white tail, and give me the happiest smile, then ultimately proceed to hide in her tiny spot under the altar because she gets too excited. Nobody will chatter their teeth in excitement when I get home from a trip, even if I were gone for just a night (that equated to forever for her). You looked for me when you were in pain, even if it was just a piece of poop stuck on your fur. You were so good and sweet beyond what I can ever tell anyone. No other dog would enjoy baths, hugs, kisses, and being carried like a baby. You loved and trusted me above anyone and anything else. She wasn’t my best friend, she was my baby.
During her last moments, she waited for me to get to her. I wish I could’ve said goodbye properly instead of my last words being something so stupid as a joke.
I knew you would have to leave me someday, but I wasn’t ready yet. I’d prepared for your death financially, but I wasn’t ready emotionally yet. I was supposed to have a few more years with you. I miss you everyday. You were a strong girl right until your last day. Have all the treats and dog food you can eat at the rainbow bridge, my love. Wala nang mang-aagaw sa dog bowl mo. I’m so lucky to have been your owner. I’ll always love you, my baby.