So I get up, take a rather cold bath, eat my breakfast, and proceed to work. It’s a fine day, but the weather does not match my inner climate. In my heart it’s raining very hard. I am haunted by your memory.
The truth is, I don’t know how to cope with the reality of losing you. For a brief time, you were my friend, companion and loved one. I never prepared myself for this, and now I refuse to accept the fact that you’re gone. I remember our time together: those beautiful nights we spent looking up at the sky, those splendid days we believed had no end. I might as well not have met and loved you; the pain of losing you would not be this intense. I might as well not have taken care of you; it would be easy for me to let go. I might as well not have thought of spending a long life with you; dismissing you from my thoughts would be easy.
I remember the day you came into my life. You were so full of life, shining in my eyes, vibrant with energy. Even your name rhymes with “glow.” And I had never been so happy knowing I owned you, and you owned a part of me: my heart.
I was always excited to get home after a long and stressful day at work, knowing you would be there to greet me, without pretense, without judgment. Every day I spent in battle with some people or their ideas, some of which battles I won, or lost, I knew that when I got home to celebrate or to despair, you would be there for me, to celebrate with me or to encourage me to go on. I will forever cherish those days.
There were many times when I took you for granted. It was never my intention, and now I wish I had spent more time with you. It’s just that some people, like me, are sometimes stupid—not the kind of stupid who’d say, “I failed the exam because I didn’t study last night,” but more like the kind who’d say, “I stepped on a pile of sh-t because I was busy looking up for bird sh-t that might fall on my head.” We are always too occupied with things we think are more important, like losing weight, attending forums, discussing current events, and all those things a responsible adult should do in order to fit into society. We forget to focus on the things that make us truly happy, like singing in the rain, enjoying the sunset with a loved one, chitchatting with a child and genuinely laughing with him or her, having dinner with a friend whom we haven’t seen for a long time, accepting a warm hug, or playing with a dear pet/friend.
Yes, the last one hits a mark—playing with a pet and making him or her know that he or she is cherished. Now that I have lost you, I will never again be able to do that. I blame myself for not spending more time to take care of you. I was just too preoccupied with my responsibilities to the world that I forgot to attend to my responsibilities to you.
Now, I look at our old pictures and grieve and despair: for my sudden loss, for happy memories with you, for my carelessness and unmindfulness.
I still have Kiara, Kovu and Bulma, but nothing will be the same now that you are gone, my little Snow. The only thing that comforts me is the thought that there is a heaven for good dogs, for good pets. I know you are there, and you deserve to be.
I ask God to pull you out of that heaven and to make you a star in the sky. And you can shine for me, bright and white as snow, my dear friend, my dear Snow.
Bem Ardales, 25, says she promises to spend more time with her other pets.