Death is an ugly bitch

It was a Saturday evening when the news broke me.  The evening of November 7, 2015 to be precise. Dad called about her.

9 years is a long time. But that's just in human years. In dog years, it's mammothous 68 years! It's funny how we don't value heat we have, when we have them.  Instead, we waste our time and energy beating ourselves up about the most unimportant things that won't even matter in a year's time! 

So, some 9 years ago, Mom was adamant on getting a dog and went up against Dad and got one pupper home. We'd never had pets before. So we got around  befriending a skinny little puppy,  as both of us were left with no choice. Mom named her Moti and though we tried to change her name to something feminine later, it never caught on.

After our fair share of qualms(I never liked dogs and they scared me to death), we got to know each other,  grew close and bamn! There we were, playing football with crushed plastic bottles, dragging each other around the house(she was a BIG lady), chasing other dogs together, watch her chew everything she was put on earth to chew. She'd repeatedly dig around the garden, much to mom's dismay. The highly horrifying yum-lets-chew-off-mom's-seat-coz-they-look-like-spongecake episodes (which just kept repeating for a really long time). It stopped bothering after a while though. It became more of a string of cute stories to tell everyone. What stuck was a bunchful of memories,  the little tricks, the antics and the love that lingered and will continue to do so for a very very long time.

She wasn't some trick doing,  disciplined,  trained pet.  She never responded to the Shake,  the Sit Down,  the Roll Over or anything at all. She was a badass in her own way, which is why we loved her. She wasn't tamed  but we never had to. She potty trained herself, didn't learn much from any vehicle chasing experience, ate her own vomit, was stupid as a stone(she would go nuts trying to reach the biscuit we'd keep on her back),  only cared about food and a good long scratch on the butt. Basically, she was perfect. 

So how can it not affect us when suddenly,  without any sign or sickness, she just passes away. I mean, one moment she's there,  following you around and then suddenly she isn't. Many don't understand why we are so attached to our pets,  coz they are "just dogs"!

Well, the thing is,  for us,  they are just a part of our lives. We have other things to attend to.  Education,  careers,  decisions, work, families, society and so on.  But for them,  it's you.  You are their world.  They look up to you.  For love,  for food,  for comfort, for saving their ass from the cat next door, for believing that there is no greater threat than the postman at your door! You are the first and the last person they want to see every day. Can you imagine, how little we appreciate all the attention we get?

And that's their entire life. 10 years for us is 70 for them. They come to us as unsuspecting strangers and leave as this indispensable part of us that we never knew they could become.  I mean,  how could someone unintentionally create such a big space in our heart and impact us in a way we never actually knew about, up until they left? It's crazy! It's horrifying! I mean, I have a reputation of getting way too attached to people and things.  But unless you are made of stone, you will feel my heartache and what exactly I'm talking about. 

I mean, now all I can think about is her creepy little smile when I scratched her neck while she lay on her back. Her legs wide open,  like she was possessed! And that's the most beautiful, haunting and hurtful memory at the same time. 

I can never do it again. No folding her ears, no rubbing her tummy,  scratching her butt,  getting spooked by the sudden touch of her wet nose! No one will ever again sniff my butt and confirm myidentity when I'm trying to get inside the house. None. And the worst thing is, I didn't even get to say goodbye. 

I will never be able to hug her again, no playing with her paws until she just gave up. I won't be able to scare her away and then chase her until she outruns me. No trying to lift and carry her across the balcony, forcing her to play fetch, no lice removing sessions, no teeth counting! I will no longer enjoy seeing her take a nap with a bit of her tongue peeking out, no throwing tantrums while bathing, no more going nuts watching her run in the balcony during rains, fall and then run again after being embarrassed. Who will cover me in wet, stinking fur and sneeze their awesomeness on me? Who will I come home to? Who will greet me?

It broke me. She broke me. She just left and I couldn't even do anything. I didn't get to see her last and now I never will. She is the most adorable gooey eyed culprit I have ever come across and it just kills me that I will never be able to give in to her antics ever again.

But Moti,  wherever you are,  I'm sure you're bringing joy and happiness to the Retard Factory where I shall join you shortly. You will always be the best part of our family and you are irreplaceable. If you were with us as part of a secret mission, I hope we didn't disappoint you.

We love you,  always! :(

Also, sharing this little piece I have always loved and is most apt to portray how much we love our dogs. Thanks Oatmeal!

http://theoatmeal.com/comics/dog_paradox

http://theoatmeal.com/comics/dog_how_see

Moti- This is the last picture I took of her . This was taken on October 27, 2015. She has looked more adorable than this. That day was just a bad hair day, I guess!