Losing Poopy

I never thought that losing a pet would be this painful.

I did not grow up taking care of animals. At certain points in my childhood, we had pets. Two dogs – Norvie and Wrangler. And a cat named Amanda. I never felt attached to any of them. For one, the dogs were scary shit. But hell, I hated people who mock or abuse Wrangler.

I’m not really the pet-lover type. I started to appreciate animals because my best friend is a pet lover, and she’s into cats. She loves her pets, and sometimes I feel envious and I crave (yes crave!) to have pets, too. I was amazed when we went to the Philippine Animal Welfare Society last year because the dogs and cats were so cute, and so… I don’t know… adorable?

My desire to have a pet intensified when my sister told me that her godmother wants to give us a puppy. I was excited and tried to pursue my parents to accept the pet. They weren’t swayed easily, but after a couple of days of nagging and pleading, they gave in. They fetched the puppy one day, then bought stuff for her. We were not able to name her at once, since it was our first time to adopt a pet. I ended up calling her Poopy because she loves to poop. Later, my siblings named her Sushi.

She’s adorable and I love her. When I first saw her, I fell in love. Whenever I’m in Manila, I look forward to the weekends because I want to hug her, and pet her, and play with her, and sing her a lullaby. It was like a routine. I love that puppy so much that I couldn’t explain it anymore. It’s been weeks only but I felt so attached to her.

When I came home last Friday night, she jumped and ran after me, without stopping even when I told her to stop. I love the way she welcomes me home, and she jumps, and she lets me carry her. I love the way she plays with her stuffed toys, like they were in a wrestling. I love the way she bites my slippers just to get my attention. I love the way she sleeps on my arms whenever I sing “meme na Poopy, meme na. Meme na si baby, meme na.” Believe me, the lullaby puts her to sleep. I just love every single thing about Poopy. I love her. I just do. I couldn’t fully explain why.

It was her scheduled visit to the vet last Saturday, and it was the first time I brought her to my grandmother’s house. She was crying because the place wasn’t familiar. She’s doesn’t really bark. I heard her a few times, but only because she’s angry. She cries, mostly, whenever she doesn’t get what she wants. So yeah, anyway, after the vet visit, my mom dropped her at home. That was around 6PM and she left her there because of some errands. My younger sister arrived at 7PM and told us that Poopy was missing. Of course I didn’t believe her. It’s impossible. Poopy never goes out. She hates unfamiliar places. But then when I felt uneasy, I decided to go home. I tried to look for her. I called her name out loud. I roamed around the subdivision, hoping I’d see her just exploring somewhere. But she was nowhere to be found. Then it hit me, my baby was missing. Maybe someone stole her. Maybe she went out the street, then someone chanced upon her and decided to pick her up. I don’t know what happened. I don’t know why.

And I am in pain. I never thought that losing a pet would be this painful, really. I love that puppy so so so much. I couldn’t explain exactly but I feel so broken hearted. I was hoping that somebody would eventually return her. Before I slept last night, I kept on hearing her cries in my head. I was imagining she was still there. I woke up the next day, praying that she was just there, waiting for us to wake up, excited to eat her breakfast.

Why do good things always come to an end? Poopy is such a great gift, because she lessens the stress, she brings joy, she is so adorable. I love her so much.

I miss you Poopy. I love you baby. I’m still hoping that you’ll come back home. We’re waiting for you.

Sorry for blabbering. I just feel so sad.


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