It was a Sunday morning at nine, banging on the door kept going.. Feeling groggy, headed to bed pretty late the previous night as I was accompanying my baby, talking to him, making sure he is alright.
He has this habit of following me everywhere, even when I’m not around, he would just wait for me. As I furthered my studies in Australia, my family would send pictures of him waiting at my door, at the bottom of the stairs without fail. I bet he knows I miss him just as much as he misses me.
He was bright, always jumping everywhere, food never fail to make him happy, until he lost all his appetite and liveliness, we found a huge lump behind his foreleg, doctor diagnosed him with critical cancerous tumor.
“It’s Sunday, how can I help you?!” No answer. Just then I heard a worried voice saying, “You need to come now.” I transformed from a bedhead to full-alert state in just a split second, something inside was twisting and turning, not in a good way, I rushed down the fleet of stairs.
Looking from the right to the left.. Baby.. I whispered to myself.
Scanning every corner of the home.. Shiro, I mumbled repetitively. Nothing. I followed the chattering that lead me to the garden. This. Is. Not. Happening. He was lying on the freshly-mowed green grass. No movements. I wait.. then my heart sunk into my stomach, no heartbeat. The sun was shining up above, and my day cannot be any gloomier.
Shiro was his name, I call him babychee. He was 12. A little over a month more to his 13th birthday. Guess it’ll just be me this year.
Coping with the loss is tough. I do go from being mellow to bursting into tears every hour. Constantly reminding myself that he is at a better place now, I find a whole lot of comfort from it, our memories bring bittersweet tears to my heart as I will learn to cherish them.
In loving memory of Shiro
A Poem to Remember