The Place to be (Part II)
Thoughts. Not necessarily in a stream.
Monday, February 20, 2006
My mum's friend of a friend was giving away puppies. A whole adorable litter of them. We went over to their house to take a look and were greeted with an insanely energetic bunch of black labrador puppies prancing in and out of the big house on little pawed feet. They weren't pure labs of course, their father was a mongrel which resulted in little yellow flowery patches of colour on their legs and underside, but that didn't subtract one bit from their innocent and undeniable cuteness. My bro and I chose the most adorable puppy, the one who rolled on her back and wiggled in glee as we rubbed her tummy. And we brought her home like a prized possession.
Our other dog, Beth, however, was far from enthusiastic in her greeting. On the contrary for the next few days she would be foaming at the mouth and giving weary looks at her little black compatriot. Probably afraid we had in our possesion someone who would replace her. She was named Bonnie, a name plucked out of the air by mum, but yet couldn't have described her better. Bonnie, our little bouncing bubble of cuteness. She was kept in a playpen for most of her puppy days, given a towel for bedding, milk at night, puppy dog biscuits. She was such a lovable creature, coming when called, giving you the doleful wet-eyed look, she fell asleep on my lap while I studied for the A levels. And when we took her out for walks in the park, she didn't walk/run but skipped! Skipping along the sidewalk, her floppy ears bouncing and flapping in the air, and she was so small that time. Her legs were rather jelly-like, her fur so soft and furry, paws so tiny. Soon enough however, she started getting really big. She grew big. And fat. Mum only fed her once a day, but she was a greedy doggie and always seemed hungry no matter the time of the day. She ate Beth's leftovers, she ate the bones we gave her after dinner and she was always chewing something in the garden, be it a rock, a snail :S or whatever. We still took Beth and Bonnie out for walks occasionally, but not really as regularly as everyone was busy and it was such a chore bringing out two dogs who literally go beserk once let out of the house, running down streets and pulling against their collars as if they had just been let out of prision.
Bonnie started losing her appetite suddenly. This was a shock because normally she ate anything and everything. Now she wouldn't even touch chicken, nor the tasty canned dog food, not even beef stew! We brought her to a vet, two in fact. And they took her blood and ran some tests, but the results were hardly conclusive. No one knew what was wrong with her. They prescribed anti-biotics in case it was some internal infection. It was such a chore giving her medication. Mum had to crush the tablets and dissolve it in water, suck it up in a syringe and we all had to hold Bonnie still so that mum could squirt it between her teeth. Bonnie hated the medicine tho', she always clamped her mouth shut when she saw my mum coming, and made vain attempts to shy away. But Bonnie's such a sweetie, she would never disobey. She never had.
She ate a little bit everyday, mum tried force feeding her to make sure she was getting stuff down. But over the days we could see she was deteriorating, the fat Bonnie was now skinny Bonnie, with a waistline, and an even visible ribcage. But everyone was hoping she would get better. Maybe it was the medicine that killed her tastebuds, maybe she was depressed because everyone gives more bones to Beth, maybe she was reaching menopause, we all thought it might be a phase, maybe she would get out of it. Maybe one day, she would wake up and feel like eating. Unfortunately that day never came.
On Valentine's day, my parents worked late and came home around 8, to find Bonnie huddled under a bush. She was still alive but very weak. I wasn't at home, I was in hall, or rather.. I was out having dinner with the boyfriend :S Anyway, they immediately bundled her up in a blanket, and with my bro, they drove down to SPCA to seek advice on what to do. They were faced with 2 decisions, to bring Bonnie to St James' Hospital to see a doctor and see what he could do or to leave Bonnie at SPCA to be put down. Dad wanted the first choice, and mum was about to go along, but something in her snapped and she just suddenly knew it would have to be the 2nd choice. At that point my bro ran in and said Bonnie had struggled out of the car and was now lying by the roadside. She had died. Not in our house, or in our car, but on the earth, where she came from. Poor Bonnie, who always came when she called, didn't run more than 3 meters away from us when we were out for walks, always wearing that happy grin, the wagging tail, the look that said 'pet me now!'.
God I'll miss her. She was such a good dog.
Goodbye Bonnie..
Our other dog, Beth, however, was far from enthusiastic in her greeting. On the contrary for the next few days she would be foaming at the mouth and giving weary looks at her little black compatriot. Probably afraid we had in our possesion someone who would replace her. She was named Bonnie, a name plucked out of the air by mum, but yet couldn't have described her better. Bonnie, our little bouncing bubble of cuteness. She was kept in a playpen for most of her puppy days, given a towel for bedding, milk at night, puppy dog biscuits. She was such a lovable creature, coming when called, giving you the doleful wet-eyed look, she fell asleep on my lap while I studied for the A levels. And when we took her out for walks in the park, she didn't walk/run but skipped! Skipping along the sidewalk, her floppy ears bouncing and flapping in the air, and she was so small that time. Her legs were rather jelly-like, her fur so soft and furry, paws so tiny. Soon enough however, she started getting really big. She grew big. And fat. Mum only fed her once a day, but she was a greedy doggie and always seemed hungry no matter the time of the day. She ate Beth's leftovers, she ate the bones we gave her after dinner and she was always chewing something in the garden, be it a rock, a snail :S or whatever. We still took Beth and Bonnie out for walks occasionally, but not really as regularly as everyone was busy and it was such a chore bringing out two dogs who literally go beserk once let out of the house, running down streets and pulling against their collars as if they had just been let out of prision.
Bonnie started losing her appetite suddenly. This was a shock because normally she ate anything and everything. Now she wouldn't even touch chicken, nor the tasty canned dog food, not even beef stew! We brought her to a vet, two in fact. And they took her blood and ran some tests, but the results were hardly conclusive. No one knew what was wrong with her. They prescribed anti-biotics in case it was some internal infection. It was such a chore giving her medication. Mum had to crush the tablets and dissolve it in water, suck it up in a syringe and we all had to hold Bonnie still so that mum could squirt it between her teeth. Bonnie hated the medicine tho', she always clamped her mouth shut when she saw my mum coming, and made vain attempts to shy away. But Bonnie's such a sweetie, she would never disobey. She never had.
She ate a little bit everyday, mum tried force feeding her to make sure she was getting stuff down. But over the days we could see she was deteriorating, the fat Bonnie was now skinny Bonnie, with a waistline, and an even visible ribcage. But everyone was hoping she would get better. Maybe it was the medicine that killed her tastebuds, maybe she was depressed because everyone gives more bones to Beth, maybe she was reaching menopause, we all thought it might be a phase, maybe she would get out of it. Maybe one day, she would wake up and feel like eating. Unfortunately that day never came.
On Valentine's day, my parents worked late and came home around 8, to find Bonnie huddled under a bush. She was still alive but very weak. I wasn't at home, I was in hall, or rather.. I was out having dinner with the boyfriend :S Anyway, they immediately bundled her up in a blanket, and with my bro, they drove down to SPCA to seek advice on what to do. They were faced with 2 decisions, to bring Bonnie to St James' Hospital to see a doctor and see what he could do or to leave Bonnie at SPCA to be put down. Dad wanted the first choice, and mum was about to go along, but something in her snapped and she just suddenly knew it would have to be the 2nd choice. At that point my bro ran in and said Bonnie had struggled out of the car and was now lying by the roadside. She had died. Not in our house, or in our car, but on the earth, where she came from. Poor Bonnie, who always came when she called, didn't run more than 3 meters away from us when we were out for walks, always wearing that happy grin, the wagging tail, the look that said 'pet me now!'.
God I'll miss her. She was such a good dog.
Goodbye Bonnie..
The SP, 1:25 AM
1 Comments:
wah.. it's a sad entry.. can feel ur pain dearie..take care.. bonnie had gone to a better place to enjoy herself.. =)
pRiNcEsS AL, at 6:54 PM
