My dog passed away this week, I can't recall the day. It was Wednesday, I think. Around 5pm in the evening, I saw him sitting on the porch. He usually does that during the day, it seemed a little late for him to do so so late. I dismissed it as him sleeping, but inside, I knew better. At 9pm, my uncle came by to tell me that he was dead.
I had Dino for thirteen years. I recall the day that my grandmother brought him home. Some guy was walking him down the street, my grandmother asked if she could have the dog, he said yes. And that was that. I became responsible for the little guy. I could never keep Dino indoors, so he had to go sleep in an igloo on the back porch. It was warm, but I never liked the idea of a dog so small being an outside dog. But I didn't have a say in the matter as my grandfather didn't want to deal with training him, so that was basically that.
This half dachshund/ half cocker spaniel mix brought a lot of fun times to my life, but I always felt I never gave as much as I received.
Standing over his little frame, frozen. Looking into the eyes that I just cleaned earlier that day (he was producing his own tears anymore, so he had a lot of gunk build up, had to give him medicine each day to clear it up for the last year), the question came into my mind.
Tears welled up in me. Every tear that poor dog could never produce on his own felt like they came out of me in spades. It wasn't cause I felt bad that he was dead, but I wondered, was I good enough for him?
I've had family members and loved ones pass away. And not a tear was shed for them. Not because I was heartless, but because with them, I could point out the good times. With Dino, I could point out the good times, but could he?
He must've. His tail wouldn't have wagged when he saw me, and barked at others. He wouldn't position himself when I sat down next to him so I can get that spot on his back that made his leg go spastic.
Still, that's where the tears came from. That's where the tears still come from.
I assume it's a fraction of what a parent must feel for their child when they go out into the real world. With them, I guess you've got to hope for the best. With Dino, I have to assume that the tail wags for me.
I wrapped him in a towel, and placed him in a plastic bag. I was told to by the vets. I put him in the back of my van, and drove to the Vets, I left him there. Not opting for the option to have his ashes. He wasn't my dog anymore. I left my dog on the porch at 6pm that night, sleeping. That's my good boy.
I swear, if it wasn't for my beautiful fiancé, it would've been a lot harder for me. No words could ever thank her for that.
Last year, I wrote a story on this blog. It was a story with my dog in mind. It's completely apt for this moment.
Love you, Dino. This one's for you little buddy.
Location:San Francisco,United States