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anya|18|ba behavioral sciences|UP-Manila

The thoughts that run in this head aren't always easy to comprehend.

“In search of something immortal in mortality."

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one last goodbye...
Wednesday, May 2, 2012
I'm not quite sure how to start this post. I'm not even sure what to say, or at least how to explain what I'm feeling right now. But I'll muster as much courage as I can to put out all these words, because at least then, this could be my sort-of eulogy for someone who was so incredibly important in my life.


Yesterday, my best pal and companion, my favorite little Chow, Bruce, passed away. It's been incredibly hard to grasp the fact that I won't be seeing his furry little head peek through the front door every time I step out to talk and play with him, that he won't jump up at me with his paws in my hands, that no one will greet me every time I get home in the unique way that he does. I feel like a part of me has died along with him. What's worse is, I wasn't even home when he'd gone. Just yesterday morning, I even greeted him good morning with a smile, saying goodbye and 'see you later'. Little did I know, that would be the last time I'd see him looking up at me with innocent eyes. It would be the last time I'd see him with so much life.



I don't even know what to do anymore, or where to place myself. Everywhere I turn, every time I walk around the house, every time I go out, there's a piece of him, a memory. The whole damn house reminds me of him. When I pass by our living room, I remember the first day he arrived in our lives. He was such a furry little puppy, hiding under the table, unsure of who we were, probably. When I see our front door, I remember how smart he was, being able to jump up and turn the round knob on his own. When I enter the bedroom, I remember his first night sleeping with us. He even woke us up, barking at one of the phones that started to alarm. I pass by the garage and remember sitting with him while he ate. When someone I knew passed away and I stepped out to cry, he walked up to me and nudged my hand before biting it, probably to get me to stop. 

There is so much more left unsaid, so many photos and memories. All the memories start to show up again, some I thought would be forgotten. Yet, I can barely look at the photographs I took of him, because I end up like an open faucet, or maybe even a waterfall, crying my eyes out. I've never been this heartbroken before. It even feels like I've forgotten to smile. 

To think that just last week I was planning his new diet plan, getting excited over new exercises I wanted to try with him. To think that just yesterday morning we passed by the grocery to buy gloves so we could bathe him properly that day. To think that we passed by a new veterinary clinic and I thought to myself I'd bring him there to get him checked out when I got the chance. Now it's all pointless. I feel so heavy and hollow. 

This morning, my uncles started digging a grave for him at the little patch of land outside, almost right in front of our front door. At the few times I've been to a wake, I always had the courage to step up to the coffin to see the person off for the last time. I was one of the few who encouraged others to at least approach and say goodbye. But today, I couldn't see Bruce off. I didn't want to see him lifeless and remember him that way. I didn't want that kind of memory in my head. I had only had a slight glance at him last night, before I looked away and started really crying. I know it seems so harsh and selfish, but I just couldn't. They told me it was because of the heat. He couldn't take it.

Although the pain hasn't subsided and the tears haven't stopped coming, I try my best to control myself, to distract myself. With such a positive family, it's been a bit easier. It'll take longer for me to muster that courage to walk up to his grave though, but I'll try harder. It's the least I can do for him now.


I love you so much, baby Brucey. I miss you so much. Thanks for the memories, and sorry for my shortcomings. I know I had a lot. Thank you for all smiles you've given us, all the laughs. Thank you for protecting us every day and night. I hope you're happy now, wherever you are. I promise you I'll be alright. I promise you I'll still talk to you, like I always do. I'll still boast about you to everyone I know, about how absolutely smart and amazing you are, and how blessed I am to have had you in my life. I won't ever, ever forget you. Never.


Note: When I say yesterday, I actually mean last Monday. I'm posting this in the wee hours of the morning so I still feel like it's Tuesday rather than Wednesday. Sorry!

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2 Comments:

Blogger Nichie said on May 3, 2012 at 11:14 AM  

I'm so very sorry for your loss. If it helps, here's a story that might make you feel a little better about him, http://www.petsincondos.org/WhyDogs.htm


Blogger Anya Cruz said on May 5, 2012 at 1:49 AM  

Thank you for sharing this. It really does help, immensely. Thank you. :D


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