Exercise 29:
Write about a pet you had that has died. Tell about their life from the moment you got
them, up until the moment your heart was broken because of their death.
It’s been months
since I last posted anything on this blog, but without having internet, and
being homeless, as well as going to college, I find it hard to find the time to
post. I do hope you enjoy this one.
Usually at this
time of day I’m working on homework for college, but it’s starting out as a
slow afternoon. My cat was laying on my
lap with her gray tiger stripes, and we were having quite a loving moment. Well, she’s kind of got obsessive compulsive
order. She started to clean herself
vigorously, and it reminded me of a dear friend I had up until about two years
ago.
This friends name
was Pooter. She was a dark brown and
black long haired Chihuahua who always had a problem with her weight. She almost had the name Cleopatra for these
Cleopatra shaped eyes she adorned. It
was love at first sight.
I remember the
first day I got her. She came from a litter of 8 pups, she was the only
female. I think I was maybe 15 years old
and still in high school. She had that
fresh puppy smell that always reminds me of a cup of coffee. She was just a tiny little furball just a
little larger than a tennis ball. She
took me to me right off.
We had another
dog at this time, and his name was Chino, short for his full name
Cappucino. Why? He reminded my mom of Cappucino with the color
of his short haired fur. He came from a
white Chihuahua champion, and had papers go with him. I think my mom paid around 500- 600 bucks for
him, but that doesn’t mean much to me.
Every time people saw him they thought of the old Tacobell commercials
with that little bug-eyed Chihuahua “Yo quiero Tacobell.” He was not a teacup, however, and nor was he
bug-eyed. He was a normal sized Chihuahua,
though most people don’t know anything about their being a “normal size.” Most people think of those tiny little teacup
ankle biters when Chihuahua’s come to mind, but this isn’t the case for Pooter
and Chino.
So why am I bringing
up another dog? The reason for this is
that Chino was maybe 6 months old at the time, and he needed a pal, so we got
him Pooter. Chino was my mom’s dog and
Pooter was mine. For whatever reason I always
wanted a female dog, and Pooter was it.
When we first
brought Pooter through the door Chino seemed over excited. My mom told him “This is your baby, take care
of her.” He kept running over her at
first and knocking her over, but soon he learned to be careful. All he wanted was to play with this cute
little girl.
Well, they both
began to grow up, and Chino’s love for her grew. Pooter loved Chino too. It’s hard to write this as tears well up in
my eyes at such a sweet tale of two lovers.
Chino had parvo
as a puppy and had survived that through a visit to the vet where he had to
stay for about 3 days. About 3 or 4
years ago he died of Doggy mumps.
Before Chino had
died Pooter was a happy dog with bright shimmering eyes. She always wanted to seize the day. After long walks she’d run and jump into
puddles to cool herself off, which required a bath after the walk because she
had made herself so dirty! She once even
ran into our front yard and jumped into the pond. Pooter and Chino also loved to go swimming
down at the lake that we lived near at the time.
After Chino died,
she lost her desire to go outside and go for walks. It seemed like too much work for her. Though at this time we had other dogs, she
was never the same. Her heart was
broken, and I could see it in her eyes, and my own heart broke for her. No light was shimmering in those eyes, only a
sadness asking me where he had gone and when he was coming back. I tried so hard to take care of him before he
died because I knew that if he died, her heart would slow its constant beat.
It seemed to me
her heart beat only for him. They were
the two Alphas of our slowly growing pack of dogs, that now ceases to exist,
but that’s another story.
Pooter was the
type of dog who was always cleaning all of the other dogs. She was quite obsessive with it, making sure
even the floor was clean of food and scraps.
This was probably why she had a weight problem. This girl loved to eat! I can’t say I blame her, because I’m the
same, only my metabolism prevents me from growing to a larger size.
She was about a
year old when she and Chino had their first litter. From this litter came my brothers dog…Little
Bitty. I can’t remember what we originally
wanted to call her, but my bro had abandoned her, and she was not the forgiving
type. She was mostly black with brown
eyes similar to Pooter’s lovely dark amber gems. Her chest was covered in a tanish colored fur,
and her paws also had a tanish color.
Chino and Pooter
always protected Little Bitty, though Pooter was sort of the coward of the
bunch. She’d only run with the pack, and
not solo. Though one time she became a
criminal through the act of biting a very evil man upon his leg, after that she
was sentenced to solitary confinement for 10 days because the man called animal
control. I think he was afraid he was
going to get Rabies, but Pooter knew he was no good. It was the first and only time she ever bit
someone.
Pooter had the
tendency to let you know what she needed by jumping up and down and barking in
a high pitched bark. It was quite
aggravating, and I never truly could understand her like I could the other
dogs. My mom understood her though. I’m sad that the two of us could never
understand each other on that level, but I know we had a deeper understanding.
Without that
shimmer in her eyes, I found that she was mostly crawling underneath the couch
and just lying there for hours. She no
longer found excitement in going for walks, and I could tell that she was
depressed. I couldn’t blame her; she’d
lost her one and only true love. I would
have felt the same. All I did was love
her until she became very ill.
This is where the
story must take its end. Her kidneys
began to fail and she began to pee a bloody stream upon the carpet, and at the
time we couldn’t afford to take her to the vet and she initially died. I know it was painful for her, both physically
and emotionally. This was maybe two
years after the death of her mate. I
feel that the reason this happened was because she couldn’t get herself to that
point of joy anymore because her one reason for living was gone. I feel that she wanted to join him because
life just wasn’t worth living without him.
I know deep
inside that they are both in a better place now, together. The two of them are running happily in doggy
heaven, side by side. But I still cry
for them both every now and then, missing them with many breaths, and many
broken heart beats. Rest in peace Pooter
and Chino: Lovers for life.
