Another Love
Early in the morning when I wake
up the first sensation I feel is the warmth of her fur at my feet. Half-asleep
I brush my feet against her as if it were some doormat. That wakes her up and
she begins to lick my feet as if she knew I was already late for work and Mom
was no longer there to wake me up. She was a pup when I brought her in on a
rainy day, all drenched and whining, a small bruise on her left hind leg. I had
taken pity on her thinking she would be a wonderful company for my aged mother
who had to stay back all alone in our cramped apartment while I had to go to
work. Soon she was cleaned and dried and fed. I can still recall how apologetic
and grateful the look in her eyes was when she came to my feet and licked it. Now
I sit up in bed and pat her head, the look hasn’t changed much, the twinkle is
still bright.
As I hurriedly finish my daily
chores and get ready for work, she comes and woofs at me. Oh! Her breakfast, I
keep forgetting. How I wish Mom was around to help me with all the work.
Suddenly this nostalgic feeling envelops me. I sit down and pick her up. I wrap
my arms around her and the tears just start flowing. She licks up my tears and
makes that friendly “it’s alright” slight bark of hers. It’s been over a month,
but I still can’t deal with it.
Both of these females were such
an integral part of my life. They had given me the love I so desperately
needed. One had loved me my whole life and the other has loved me from the day
we met. Even if their love has spanned different times, it is invaluable to me,
for time cannot measure true love. But time can surely take away this love. It
has snatched one from mine. I dread the day when it’ll steal the other.
I return from work. The
streetlamp’s glow seems warm in the freezing winter evening. I reach my
apartment building and soon I hear her barking loudly from our balcony on the
fifth floor. It is still a mystery to me how she recognizes me from such a
distance. But I feel much better to hear her welcoming bark. Even if mother cannot
open the door and offer me a warm cup of tea, the welcome that I get from my
dog will suffice. I keep trying to make the best of it.
My life has been thoroughly
disrupted. Losing someone you love is never easy. But neglecting the ones that
still remain is even worse a guilt to live with. When she eagerly jumps up on
me, resting her paws ever so gently on my thighs, I feel bad for leaving her
alone in the apartment at the hands of the recently hired caretaker, a stranger
to her. Mom loved her dearly. And she loved her back. Even if she misses her,
she never mourns her in front of me. The caretaker tells me how down she stays
the whole day. It’s hard to believe looking at her prancing now. It must be
even hard for her to stay strong for me. I feel as if mother gave way a part of
her love to her before leaving us. But she forgot to give me some.
I pick her up and hug her tight. The
world becomes black as I close my eyes and burst into tears.
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