You know after 3 of my dogs died in this past 3 years, I thought I'd be able to handle it.
Like, you can accept that their lives are very fragile, and that this is what life is about.
They come, they love you, and they just go, with or without warning. And they rip a little piece of your heart when they do. Then they just become but only a shadow licking your face and an extra empty bowl.
Whether it's your first dog, third dog, or 100th dog, it will still hurt fucking bad.
Wan Wan got attacked by the neighbour's dogs yesterday evening. We called out to him for more than two hours, and even crossed over to the neighbour's land to find him until their dogs came charging at us. We were hoping he'd just be terribly injured, but still able to get back home after the neighbour's dogs are locked up. He was found dead at a mini stream before noon today, at the foot of the hill where he might have fallen or attacked - all bedraggled and bloody.
By the time I got home from school, he was already in a white gunny sack, ready to be buried. I didn't even get to say goodbye. I didn't even get to play with him yesterday, only the day before. My nasty looking but somehow super cute in other people's eyes, foot-wipe-mat-like dog has joined the others in heaven.
Sometimes I wonder why God created dogs. Why must He create a creature that would love you more than itself, but can only do it for a short period of time. Here's some snippets of his short life that I managed to blog about: post 1, post 2 and post 3.
Maybe it's to show us how precious life is; that we must appreciate the beautiful things in our life, if possible, everyday. Damn, these tears are just making me fucking philosophical. I think I have to stop here and go hug all my remaining dogs.
Rest in peace baby. Until we meet again.