wallflower

Wednesday, May 27, 2009

Vodka, our beloved dog

The loss of someone special always warrants a blog post, as is my case with writing as my tool in the process of healing.

As always, I think - what if? What if I hadn't chased him out of the room? What if I had opened to door? What if... what if...

The last thing I did to him was to chase him out. Guilt really consumes me - he only wanted to be close to us in his last moments, yet all I could think about was how his fur would get on the bed, how he might step on my bruises. Now all these things seem so trivial. I would have given him the entire bed if I had another chance.

Being in the house with him gone is really difficult. Everywhere I look I am reminded of him. The tuft of fur which signals his existence, the emptiness when I look into the toilets, the lack of him in front of the fan.

I miss him snuggling into us on the bed, stepping all over us, 'accidentally' stepping on our toes, his warm body as I snuggle into his fur, seeing him cuddled in a corner of the toilet, seeing him waiting for food as we cook, him licking our faces as we wake up, him lying by the water bowl with his 'chicken wing' front legs, his friendly 'hello' howl, his adorable face as I open the door, his excited face as we pick up his leash to prepare him for a walk, the clicking that his nails make on the floor as he walks around.

The house is quiet without him. Too quiet. Even Kino lays in a corner, dejected and bored.

He was a wonderful gift to us - a newly wed couple who shared their first home with their first dog - a lovely friend, buddy and comrade to us all. He was always there for us. If only he could be here again, and never leave us.

A gentle giant, a gentleman who always let Kino have her way.

We miss you, Vodka and we love you so much. We'll never forget you. Thank you so much for having been with us. You have brought us so much joy.

I'm thankful for all who turned up yesterday to say their last goodbyes to the best dog ever. He was really one of a kind and knowing that he made an impact on the lives of so many others who care so much for him helped.

Here's the last video taken of Vodka by Justin. Thanks so much Justin for being there and all that you have done for us, and Vodka.


"stepping out on my own" Amanda Arthur Elaine Eileen Ginger Helios Jomel Jonathan Kino Melvin Mich Mychowchows Nuriah Rosenna Shaff Shoes Sheryl Singapore English UNFCCC Vodka Zijian September 2004 October 2004 November 2004 December 2004 January 2005 February 2005 March 2005 April 2005 May 2005 June 2005 July 2005 August 2005 September 2005 October 2005 November 2005 December 2005 January 2006 February 2006 March 2006 April 2006 May 2006 June 2006 July 2006 August 2006 September 2006 November 2006 December 2006 January 2007 February 2007 March 2007 April 2007 May 2007 June 2007 July 2007 August 2007 September 2007 October 2007 November 2007 December 2007 February 2008 March 2008 April 2008 May 2008 June 2008 July 2008 August 2008 September 2008 October 2008 November 2008 December 2008 January 2009 February 2009 March 2009 April 2009 May 2009 June 2009 July 2009 August 2009 September 2009 October 2009 November 2009 December 2009	Wednesday, May 27, 2009 Vodka, our beloved dog The loss of someone special always warrants a blog post, as is my case with writing as my tool in the process of healing. As always, I think - what if? What if I hadn't chased him out of the room? What if I had opened to door? What if... what if... The last thing I did to him was to chase him out. Guilt really consumes me - he only wanted to be close to us in his last moments, yet all I could think about was how his fur would get on the bed, how he might step on my bruises. Now all these things seem so trivial. I would have given him the entire bed if I had another chance. Being in the house with him gone is really difficult. Everywhere I look I am reminded of him. The tuft of fur which signals his existence, the emptiness when I look into the toilets, the lack of him in front of the fan. I miss him snuggling into us on the bed, stepping all over us, 'accidentally' stepping on our toes, his warm body as I snuggle into his fur, seeing him cuddled in a corner of the toilet, seeing him waiting for food as we cook, him licking our faces as we wake up, him lying by the water bowl with his 'chicken wing' front legs, his friendly 'hello' howl, his adorable face as I open the door, his excited face as we pick up his leash to prepare him for a walk, the clicking that his nails make on the floor as he walks around. The house is quiet without him. Too quiet. Even Kino lays in a corner, dejected and bored. He was a wonderful gift to us - a newly wed couple who shared their first home with their first dog - a lovely friend, buddy and comrade to us all. He was always there for us. If only he could be here again, and never leave us. A gentle giant, a gentleman who always let Kino have her way. We miss you, Vodka and we love you so much. We'll never forget you. Thank you so much for having been with us. You have brought us so much joy. I'm thankful for all who turned up yesterday to say their last goodbyes to the best dog ever. He was really one of a kind and knowing that he made an impact on the lives of so many others who care so much for him helped. Here's the last video taken of Vodka by Justin. Thanks so much Justin for being there and all that you have done for us, and Vodka. 1:35 PM ·