Farewell My Pal, My Buddy, My Best Friend
Bobby, my pal, my buddy, my best friend, my brother, my son and my soul mate. You left us abruptly on Saturday evening.
You were still fine in the afternoon, and after your shower, you started to limp and walk in a petrified manner as if there was a piercing pain somewhere. You started to cry and make this wheezing sound that I had never heard before. With all your might you jumped onto my bed, something you had never done before, as you were all wet and knew that I would surely yell at you for doing so. I had this uneasy feel about it and immediately brought you to our faithful vet.
Despite near closing hour, our vet attended to us on an emergency basis. The signs were all bad. Upon x-ray, your heart had enlarged further and was squeezing the lungs tightly. There was simply little room for air to be breathed in naturally. You were immediately hospitalized with an oxygen mask attached. My heart broke upon seeing you in this condition.
Thoughts raced through my mind. Why didn’t I faithfully feed you the medication for your congestive heart problem? Was being busy setting up my office an easy excuse for spending less time with you and to have looked after your health adequately? Why was I always thinking that my boy will be strong enough for everything? Even skipping a day or two for your medicine?
I was told to leave you hospitalised for the night. I told myself that I would get you up and going again, at all means and costs, I promised. My dear boy, little did I expect the vet to call me barely 30 minutes later. It wasn’t good. You are gasping for breath. I immediately drove to the vet.
When I saw you this time, I knew it would be the last. It was just too sudden. I just wasn’t prepared for it. I just didn’t want this to be our last moment together. I just didn’t want to stroke you for the last time. I still harbour thoughts of playing fetch with you once you’re back home. I just didn’t want to say good-bye to you.
I couldn’t hold back my tears at a complete helpless state. I saw a sudden jerk of your head and told the vet you must be ok. It must be your way of telling me you want to go home with daddy. The vet said otherwise, your lucidity was momentary and that you were not likely to make the trip back home. You would suffer great pain with blood vomits.
The moments following were a constant struggle with letting you go peacefully or to bring you back home and probably die in pain. Which is more selfish? Letting you be put to sleep by the vet? Or bringing you home so you can die at home with your loved ones and favourite toys surrounding you, albeit in pain? Bobby, tell me what daddy should do? Was your sudden jumping onto my bed a way of telling me that you knew your passing was near and you wanted to be as close to me as possible?
As I type this, tears are flowing. I still don’t know if the decision I made was right. But at least I do know that you have, and must have, died painlessly and peacefully in your sleep while the vet injected that liquid that drained your life away. I saw you take that one last breath with your head in my palms and eyes gazing into mine. For that last moment, I knew I would never love another person or animal as dearly as I have loved you.
Bobby, I will miss you dearly. We have spent a wonderful 14 years together. You came to me as a gangly puppy and you left me as a dignified gentleman. You have taught me what unconditional love is. I have grown up just as much as you have grown up.
I will miss the sight of you sleeping in your dog mattress, all curled up and just waiting for me to come over and stroke your belly. I will miss me sneaking up to your back and grabbing you by surprise, only to have you cuddle up next in my arms while I rubbed your belly again. I will miss you running to me whenever there is thunder. I will miss you rubbing your face on my shirt, and I know it is not to clean your nose but to let me know you simply enjoy my smell, whether I have just bathed or finished a sweaty jog. I will miss you greeting me eagerly when I am back, even just for hour of errands.
But most of all, I will miss you looking at me while I look at you. It is a look that only both of us understood. It is a love that only both of us knew and shared.
Bobby, my son, my feisty little Jack Russell Terrier, this parting is only transient. This parting will only get us to appreciate each other more, when we meet and play fetch again, in heaven. Till then, run free, run wild.