Saying goodbye to Yahoo | Inquirer Opinion
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Saying goodbye to Yahoo

Saying goodbye to Yahoo

For six years, I’ve never struggled to find a topic for my weekly column. But today, I can think of only one thing—our beloved dog, Yahoo, is gone. It is my selfish way of easing the pain of our loss.

She came to us in July 2016, a fluffy white gift from my son Dino and his friend Esa, delivered in a shoebox. A shih tzu-Japanese spitz mix, she was often mistaken for a Maltese, with bright, intelligent eyes. I asked friends on Facebook for name suggestions—Snow, Cloud, Bulak—but fate had already decided.

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The night she arrived, Yahoo showed no signs of anxiety, as if she had always belonged with us. The next morning, she confidently approached our golden retriever, Google, aiming to partake of her breakfast. Google, gentle but firm, barked at the tiny intruder. We laughed and said, “Google, that’s Yahoo, don’t you remember?”

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Google once had a best friend—Yahoo, our white Persian cat who never returned from his nocturnal wanderings. When we introduced the new puppy as “Yahoo,” Google sniffed her over and, as if she understood, softened. And so, she became Yahoo the dog.

Yahoo was a village darling in Meteor Homes, Marikina where we lived. Every morning and afternoon, several kids on the way to school would stop by our gate to pet her. She would already be waiting for them as if keeping track of their schedules.

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The first time we saw her deliriously happy was when we chanced upon the fenced Marikina baseball field near the river. We let her loose and she raced joyfully across the grass, making kids shriek with delight as she circled them. We trained her to walk leash-free, and she happily trotted alongside Google on our long walks to Lilac Street almost two kilometers away. In Baguio, she ran freely in Burnham Park, seeking strangers who would give her some petting and appreciative attention.

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In February 2021, upon our transfer to Ponte Verde in Antipolo, Yahoo became a mother, giving birth to five puppies, three of whom survived. We kept two—Uno and Dos. Over the next years, she had more litters, gifting us and friends with loving companions.

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Last October, at age 8, Yahoo was diagnosed with lung cancer. The vet gave her six months. We were devastated. Though coughing, she remained irrepressible over the Christmas season, joining her puppies as my partner Aileen treated them to their daily two-kilometer walks. She still ate, played, and demanded petting. But in January, her condition worsened. She lost weight, coughed violently, breathing became laborious, and sleep evaded her. She tries to lie down but shortly after stands up to ease the pain. She would stand away from us near the gate for long moments, struggling for air, facing away as if to avoid alarming or inconveniencing us. Her eyes, once bright, were now eloquent with her pain.

Last Friday night, as we saw her breathing become so intensely laborious, we knew it was time. Keeping her another night in agony would be selfish. Near midnight, wrapped in her blanket, we took her to the emergency vet. We said our tearful goodbyes. With anesthesia, her labored breathing slowed, and as she slipped into sleep, her eyes seemed to understand the relief to come.

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We brought her home one last time. As her body lay on the sofa, I held onto her warmth as long as I could. At sunrise, we laid her to rest atop the Ponte Verde promontory, overlooking Metro Manila, planting bougainvilleas over her grave.

Losing a pet brings a pain as deep as losing a human loved one. No matter how long we have them, it’s never long enough. We join a legion of pet lovers who have gone through the same pain and know too well that the hardest part of loving our pets is saying goodbye.

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doyromero@gmail.com

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