Dogs are the friendliest creatures ever created – at least for me. I have already have a white mice, the cutest creature except for those who doesn’t like them. I love to watch them when they chew foods I gave them. I think they are the cleanest creature I’ve seen. They clean themselves thrice an hour. Until I brought home a dog today.
I already expected the litany of words and lamentations from my mother. First, we live in a small house, no space for dogs to roam around, second, the fur, third poop and everything that goes with it and lastly, the maintenance. I just listened to her finished everything she wanted to say until she herself suggested what to do to keep the dog. Another thing I expected from her, I know she couldn’t take seeing me giving that dog away again. So, I gave her some bucks for a dog cage and the problem is solved.
I always love dogs. I wanted to have as many as I can if possible. They always give me a fresh look in life, the reason to keep up and the time I need when I just wanted to be with somebody else. They always keep me alive and kicking. I feel like there’s a connection between me and them. A bond I couldn’t explain I’m sure it’s something good. Something beneficial and worth venturing.
It always gives me the excitement to name my dogs. I never had one until I was in high school:
He was grown-up dog when he was given to me. He was such a jolly dog and very brave too. He had a cut on his thigh trying to guard our compound when some drunkard tried to get in the premises. It took him several months in hiding just to heal the wound and was glad after he recovered. He died of old age.
She’s a huge little girl. I had her when I was on my sophomore year in college. She was sweet. We also stroll at the beach every weekend when I go home from school. She coughed blood out and died the weekend I was in school. I went home to see where she was buried. She was only 5 months old.
Brownie looks like a teddy bear. Cuddly and playful. She replaced Spain a few months after. My Tito gave her to Papa when he visited their place. She suffered of skin disease when it plague our area. A lot of dogs died then. She died after a year.
She was very small. She used to sleep inside my shoes when she was young. I had her when I was already working. My Aunt gave her to me after I stayed in their placed and decided to live with my parents after they arrived from Antique. Cute, choosy, thoughtful, and always ready to wag her tail when I arrive home from work. She even pee sometimes of too much excitement. Unfortunately, we parted ways when my father got sick. She stayed with our preacher at the parsonage. I always visit her after every Sunday service but noticed that she wasn’t like what she is before. She doesn’t eat her food anymore. Lonely. I can feel her to the point that I argued with my mom to get her back. After 3 months, she died. That was the worst time I had with dogs. I did not eat for almost four days. After 3 months my father died too.
A colleague of mine gave him to me. He was originally named Platinum as his previous owner had Gold and Silver as pets. But I didn’t like the name much so I supposed Vladimir would be a good name, or Bolt, or Pol. Finally I decided to name him Kiyo. It’s my nick name on some social network site. Kiyo is a female dragon (serpent) taking revenge on travelers from a Japanese literature. The name somehow means so much to me.
Most people I know don’t like dogs. And I say, they miss a one-fourth of their life not owning even just one. If they only knew what it would be. The bond is something you cannot describe. Thus I said to myself, my partner in life must love dogs.m