I have read many books where the books starts with the introduction with the death of someone. This subsequently becomes the cataclyst for the main character to run throughout the book, a backstory of sorts for the said protagonist. He or she would recall this death of someone in a grim tone, eloquently explaining the experience of regulating of his or her lived experience of going through the death process. Oftentimes, hyperboles like 'the atmosphere smelled like death' doesn't get me. I thought it was meant to aleviate how much the protagonist grives the said death. Little did I know they were something that you ACTUALLY SENSE. For the first time in my life, I had smelled the smell of death.
I don't wish to go through it again.
My childhood pet, and beloved family of 15 years had passed away peacefully in the wee hours of the morning at around 5-6am. Her name was, is, Tiffany.
People who knew me for a long time would be familiar with my tendency to go on and on about Tiffany so they would understand what she meant to me. Because she really is a dog with the most colourful personality that you would ever meet. Stellar reputation even amongst my family members who aren't too fond of dogs, she makes us proud in so many ways. Each and every one who met her would have high praises for her - such a good dog, she's so well behaved, she's so quiet, she has good manners, how does she know the acceptable place to do her business when she is at someone else's house?, how does she know what to do when so-and-so happens?
Easy, whatever we do - we include her. When we are gazing out the window, we would carry her with us, have her look at the world we are looking at. In time, she would ask to be included when we are doing something, anything.
So she became familiar with our body language - asesseing the situations where she needs to make herself scarce or make a grande appearance like the little superstar she is. When she needs to be alert and when she can have her guard down, how to behave with visitors to the house - the whole shang-ri-la.
We have never treated her like a dog - we talked to her, had conversations with her like you would with a human being. She listens, she understands. When a familiar word is being uttered, like 'walking', you'd have her full attention. 'Bath' makes her into a floppy fluid-like blob, refusing to move, but she always end up having a bath anyway. Her method of reproach to us - sitting on a corner and sulking.
She was born somewhere between late March or early April in 1999. We brought her home after her sister from another litter (Juwie, 5 months old R.I.P), died suddenly on Cheng Beng.
Juwie's loss was too sudden for us. We were not able to handle it and begged our father for another puppy. Something happened in between, my memory is a little fuzzy here - in my defense I was 9 years old.
So to prepare the arrival of then 1.5 months old Tiffany, we made a mini-house with a large box, newspaper and a bowl filled with milk.
She took a hard time adjusting weaning off her mother but in less than 5 days, she was barking at my dad who was coming home from work. Talk about being hardcore.
She was intelligent, curious and definitely had indescribable gung-ho-ness about her. She would tackle a problem instead of running away; having a natural inquisitive mind, she would sniff at everything. We encouraged and even introduced new scents and objects for her to sniff at.
Growing up, she was a bundle of energy. She was obscenely hyperactive. She was a light sleeper. At that time, we had a HUGE garden so she would move from one end to the other, inspecting every nook and crook.
Anything she deems suspicious, she would inspect it even more diligently. There were times when we had to remove her from potentially harmful situations because we know of her tendency to tackle things head-on. She was HARDCORE.
She hates being alone. She likes to sit beside you and sleep or just relax. She is the sort of person who needs company. So just imagine whenever we come from a 4-day holiday her hips would do a little hula dance! We absolutely ADORE that sight. Perhaps we are the only ones who understand seeing her happiness upon seeing us return from the said long holiday. The rest of the day is spent with lots of pampering, kisses and of course, treats.
She loves the camera, when she is in the mood for it of course. I can show many a picture that clearly shows she is posing for the lens. And my, was she [she is] a photogenic lovely little lady!
We like to buy her/get her gifts - dog sweater, fancy treats, new food bowl and even blankets. And everytime we gather the groceries, she would be at standy because she knows all too well that we would have gotten her something - a special favour dog food is oftentimes how we indulge her. She likes this Japan-made dog food that has lamb and rice as its ingredients.
She used to play 'predator' with socks that was wrapped on our hand. She would pretend-play, treating the sock-wrapped hand as a prey-thing, and engage in her own little teacup predator imagination. When she is done playing with the sock hand, she would lick it, indicating that she had played to her heart's content.
My two fondest memory of her is when she was still young, about 3-4 years old; she had rummaged the dustbin and actually went INSIDE the dustbin and rummaged the trash. I woke up at that time, going downstairs for a drink when I heard some rustling sound. We had mice infestation then, thinking I had finally caught the culprit, I took a heavy load of newspapers and yanked close the open dustbin. I heard something between a yelp and a squeak. "Wait, this is not tikus.". I removed the newspapers, only to have globular brown eyes staring at me with such guilt at having caught red-handed. I couldn't help but laugh but, punished her still by giving her a bath. It was 3 am yes but we can't have a mischivious pup who stinks like gutted fish.
My second fondest memory of her is when she managed to catch the said mice (finally) with her own paws. But she was clumsy and pounced on the mice instead of pinning it's tail, which resulted the mice to make a SOMMERSAULT in mid-air while plunging into a pail that was nearby. Even Tiffany was confused as she did not see the mice sommersaulting in mid-air and its landing in the said pail! In between hysterical laughing fits, I loaded some heavy newspapers to trap the mice in.
Everytime I tell this story to my family, we still laugh.
The crazy shit she does, man! It's too long to list them all here. Let them remain as fond memories in our hearts between my family.
On March 22nd, she suffered a massive heart attack at 3am. I was preparing to go to sleep when I heard a loud cry that emanated so much pain, sounding almost human. To be hearing that sort of sound at 3am, you can't help but think if you have a special visitor. But something in me prompted me to go out my door and look for Tiffany. She sleeps outside our rooms since she poops between the night, the toilet more accessible to her if she sleeps outside the room.
I found her laying stiff in an odd position, in a place I know she wouldn't normally sleep, her eyes were unblinking. Panic rose in me and I woke everyone up. Mother came first dashing and tried to revive her. My sister came a little while later and joined in reviving her. I felt my entire being shake and tremble, we have never experienced this.
It took about half an hour before she rose her head asked for water. Drinking some, after some time, she began to move about normally. My mother and sister took the day off to bring her to the hospital that very same day when the hospital would be in business.
We were given grave news. She had a serious heart attack and it was congenital. There was nothing to do except that we make her as comfortable as we can. The message was clear - brace yourselves.
Prognosis was 2 months. Because her heart was enlarged and one of her discs in her lower spine was deviating. Doctors advised that if she is starting to feel pain due to the spinal disc, we must take the most human decision for her. Because there is no traction or physiotherapy for dogs with spinal ailments. But her heart was the main focus here. Her pulse was haywire, the heart wasn't pumping enough blood so she suffered water retention. We visited the hospital weekly to get it drained.
This is the dog prior to her heart attack had only been to the vet clinic 5 times in her life for allergy reactions. Now she is a frequent visitor to a hospital.
Helluva lot of money was spent on her, the medical checkups and procedures and her medicines were filthy expensive.
Initially she was doing well. So well. There were signs of stability. We thought with constant vigilance - she'd somehow pull through till her time comes.
In between, she did have several attacks - surviving all.
For the past 2 months, her health deteriorated at an alarming rate. She refused to eat, her toilet trips were something else to manage, eventually, she didn't even wanted to move. We had to carry her here and there and assist in everything.
For the past few days, she refused food totally no matter how much cajolling we did. She didn't sleep too well either, she just lied down, drowsily looking at things.
It was when she soiled herself last night while sleeping did we realize - her time had come. Last night, we were talking about making arrangements for a vet to come to the house to finally put her to peace and the pet funeral service fees etc.
After making plans, mum slept in sis's room, tucked her between them and fell asleep. It was my mum who discovered that she had breathed her final somewhere in the wee hours of 5 or 6 am.
The two of them gave her bath and while my sis dried her off, mum knocked my door. The first time she knocked I didn't want to get up because I know what news was awaiting me. The second she knocked, I got up and mum uttered these words - "she died".
I leaned over and saw that my sister was on the floor drying off her stiff body with cloth and hairdryer.
I didn't know what to do. Perhaps there was nothing I could do. I moved around the house helplessly, doing mundane this and that. I offered to inform my father about the news, so that kept me busy for a while.
After washing her, we put her on a blanket and covered her. Mum went to the internet to check for Sanskrit calender to check the time and date of her death. Today is
Vaigundha Ekadasi - it is an event that happens only once a year where the heavenly gates are said to be open. Those who pass away on Vaigundha Ekadasi is said to go straight to heaven and they do not get reincarnated. They remain in heaven. I suppose Tiffany held on for good 10.5 months because she had her own plans.
Now her loss is greeted with relief and some happiness, because at least she died on an auspicious day. Her existence in our lives taught us everything we needed about a pet. It was because of HER that the subsequent pets that come along would get treated like kings and queens because we had a good teacher in Tiffany.
Thank you Tiffany, for everything.
Everything.
Darling, Dearest, Dead
(Lemony Snicket, Letters to his Deceased Fiance).
