Laundry List

Was doing some filing when I came across this laundry list of instructions I prepared for the dog boarder the very first time Sugar was sent for boarding.  It was in Nov 2004, when the hubby and I went to South Korea for our mini honeymoon.

I was clearly a very anxious fur-parent.  And reading this list brought some tears to my eyes.  I miss Sugar sorely.

Nowadays we don’t even tell the boarder much when she comes over to pick up the furkids.  And the furkids don’t even bate an eye when we say bye.  We are all seasoned already.

Monthiversary

This post could border on being a bit morbid so please do not read on if you have a phobia of death.  Or is extremely sentimental.

A month on and life is back to normalcy at home.  Except for Sugar’s absence, which is often acutely felt.  We chose a high spot between the living and dining rooms for Sugar’s final resting place.  That’s the ‘heartbeat’ of the house, where most action takes place.  And she could help us watch over the two imps, who love to play in the area.

Sugar’s favourite bandana lines the ledge, and we also put some flowers, our cards for her, and some polaroid pictures of her during her puppyhood to cheer up her little corner.  See the two small bunches of purple and yellow Forget-Me-Nots by the little house?  We placed them there on behalf of Paris and Belle.

Sugar hadn’t even once appeared in my dreams.  I take it as a good sign – that she is enjoying herself too much, and that she is happy where we have placed her.

Still

And I still miss you very much.  So much that it hurts.

I was laughing and crying at the same time,

Looking through your puppy pictures just now.

Thank you for being the most perfect dog I could ever have.

The most perfect sister and mother surrogate Paris could ever have.

Paris is hurting too; she just can’t express herself in words.

And I have to step into a vet’s clinic again tomorrow morning.

I dread it so much, but Paris’ sensitive skin is acting up again.

And she’s hurting so it cannot wait.

But she’ll be fine, I promise.

Everything will be fine.

A Week On

I gave myself a week to bawl my eyes out, promising to move on thereafter.  Surprisingly I recovered a day ahead of my internal schedule, and felt well enough to date my cousin and little niece for lunch.  But that was just it – lunch, a little chat at my cousin’s place, and then straight to home.  To be honest, I am not ready for social gatherings as yet.  I have many thoughts and memories of Sugar, and I relish in the quiet moments at home when the hubby is out at work.

No more crying though, because I promised myself.  The sadness naturally still lingers, but whenever I feel the sensation in my nose, I stop myself.  I think a week of weeping is enough and it’s time to move on.  Grief and sadness are inevitable, but no crying.

On a side note, I never knew that crying requires so much effort.  In the past 7 days, I’ve had numerous asthma attacks, requiring frequent use of the nebuliser at home.  In fact, I seem to be in a constant state of wheezing.  Crying makes breathing 100 times harder.

Sugar is in a better place, over at the rainbow bridge having fun and waiting for us.  And I’d like to believe that we provided her a short, but good 7 years.  Now it is time to transfer the affection to Paris and Belle, who have been acting rather strangely these few days, especially Paris.  Paris is a happy-go-lucky dog by nature, so whenever she is happily distracted by Belle (i.e. play-fighting), she behaves all normal.  It’s when they quieten down that I notice a subtle difference in her.  She sticks to me a lot more often nowadays, and Sugar’s personal space by the bed is still being respected by the two younger ones – none of them took the empty space although it is rightfully the ‘prime’ sleeping place.

Sugar didn’t enjoy swimming much, but you can see from the picture that the silly girl loved the sand.  Which reminds me, it is probably time to bring Paris and Belle to the beach.  Belle has never gone swimming before, and if her genes have any say in it, I bet she is going to love the water.

Thank you everyone, for your patience with me throughout Sugar’s ordeal and the one week following.  I have gone all silent most of the time because I needed time away from the hustle and bustle.  And if you have been following my Twitter account, my apologies for the agonising one week.  I didn’t want to post how I feel on my Facebook account, but I needed to ventilate, hence the emotional tweets.  I didn’t know the extent of Sugar’s charms, but apparently her reach has gone quite wide.  Many, many family and friends have been affected by her passing, and I am extremely touched to learn that.

Sugar’s departure is a reality I have come to accept.  I no longer wake up in the middle of the night sobbing and asking the hubby to bring Sugar back to life.  The image of her cold and motionless body lying on the hospital table still haunts me.  And that smell of death lingers on yet…

But life goes on.  And as Giulas recently blogged about his mother’s words of wisdom – In the end, everything will be all right.  If it’s not all right, it’s because it’s not the end.

Rest in peace, Sugar.  Mummy is okay now.

Missing you always.  Loving you forever.

An Eulogy for My Saving Grace

My darling Sugar,

It’s been 2 days and some since you left us, but you never really left.
Every corner of the house reminds me so much of you:
Your exclusive place right next to me on the floor by the bed;
Your favourite corner at the sofa where you can keep a safe distance from the 2 lunatics;
Right in the centre of the living room where you can catch the full blast of the air-con;
Drooling away on the table top as we take our meals at the coffee table;
Under the dining table whenever Paris starts barking and you know it irks me;
Guarding my bedroom slippers outside the bathroom whenever I take a bath;
And our laps whenever we sit on the floor.

My sweetest, sweetest darling girl,
I miss you so much that it hurts like I’ve never hurt before.
So this is how it feels to lose a pet to the rainbow bridge.
It’s so painful I actually told your daddy I don’t want Paris & Belle anymore,
Just so that I don’t have to go through the pain twice more in my life.
He told me that you would be disappointed in me for saying things like that.
And that you always knew why you came to our house in the first place -
To be my constant companion to tide me through my depression.
And hell of a good job you did.

I vivdly remember the first days when you came home with us on 10 Oct 2004.
Wrapped in a new blanket and carried by daddy, you shivered uncontrollably
As grand-daddy drove the car to Mt. Pleasant Hospital for your first check.
Was it your first car ride?
You didn’t know how to walk with a collar and leash,
But you knew to look for the pee-tray with laid newspapers to pee
The first moment you stepped into home.
We were both duly impressed.
You wouldn’t stop barking for our attention
When we cordoned you off in the kitchen and yard.
And you pee-ed all over the house when I got soft-hearted
And let you out of the kitchen.
I was going crazy cleaning up after you.

Remember your first night in the house, all alone in the kitchen?
We were worried for you but we knew it was necessary for you to learn.
You didn’t know, but we were peeping at you through the shutters in the bathroom
While you were happily playing with the water in the water bowl at the yard.
If not for the fact that you were getting yourself all wet,
We wouldn’t have stopped you from having what seemed like all the fun in the world.

The next day was your first visit to the vet after throwing up.
The doctor asked us how much of the apple-flavoured treats we fed you.
And we innocently asked him how much was too much.
We were that ignorant as first-time dog owners.
I then sheepishly admitted that we fed you the whole pack because you seemed hungry.
That day, we learnt that you have an insatiable appetite and will never be full,
So we should never be fooled into over-feeding you ever again.

And that funny episode when the door-bell rang on TV – I can never forget it.
You would not believe me when I told you it was the TV and not someone at the door.
You insisted that we let you check – so we opened the bedroom door.
And you ran so fast to the main door, totally convinced that someone was there.
You wouldn’t leave the door until daddy opened it and showed you that there was no one.
It was so hilarious and your expression so puzzled I couldn’t stop laughing.
Thank you for adding joy and laughter into our lives.

You ignored Paris when she first came home so much so you gave her the cold shoulder.
Same thing happened 4.5 years later when Belle came home.
But my Sugar has such a big heart – you embraced them a couple of days later.
And although you didn’t like having Paris lie on your body all the time,
You willingly allowed her to treat you as her surrogate mother.
Belle never had a proper opportunity to get to know her big sister well.
Perhaps an age gap of 6 years is too great to bridge.
You found her too rambunctious for your liking;
And she found you too slow to be interesting.

Never in my wildest dream would I imagine that 27 May 2011 would be the last time
You would walk out of the house.
You were supposed to walk back into the house on 1 Jun and we were waiting for you.
But instead, you returned as a bag of ash on 2 Jun.
How could a healthy 26.6 kg dog be reduced to something less than 1 kg in weight?
How did it happen?
Why did it happen?
Paris seems to know that something is amiss.
We let her sniff the bag of ash, and after the second sniff, she collapsed to the floor.
Depressed would be how I describe her.
And again, I showed her the ash in the study room later on when we were picking a photo.
She crawled to me as I was sitting on the floor and I thought she teared a bit.
She knows, darling, your little sister knows.
She knows that her Sugar jie-jie has come home, but she can never play with you again.
In your absence the past few days, she has stepped up to become Alpha.
I even saw her humping Belle several times to show the little puppy who’s the boss.
Paris is diligently helping you to do the job in your absence.
I doubt she ever thought it would be a permanent task entrusted to her.

I know you hate to see mummy cry, but please let me have a few days more.
I promise you, I won’t cry again after these few days.
It’s so hard not to everytime I pass by your little altar at the living room.
And it’s become such a habit to call out your name.
Many a times, I instinctively call for you, only to realise you will never come to me.
Daddy assured me you are having a ball of a time over at Rainbow Bridge,
Where there are many dogs and lots of fun, with overflowing food and water.
Sugar-girl, don’t over-eat ok? Promise me.
And please don’t forget us.
Wait for Mummy and Daddy, we will join you one day.
In Heaven we will be reunited.

Loving you forever,
Mummy & Daddy
Paris & Belle

Be Back Soon

Still require some time to get over our sudden loss.
Be back to blogging after a couple of days.
Thank you all for your words of condolences.
We really appreciate it.

My Sugar

Sugar Asterope
(11 May 2004 – 01 Jun 2011)

My Sugar has crossed the rainbow bridge on 01 Jun 2011.
Her condition took a sudden turn for the worse last evening.
Resuscitation efforts were futile; she never got to walk out of the hospital.
Sugar is now back home where she most wanted to be.
We are inconsolable but promise to take care of ourselves.
Paris is in shock after smelling the ash remains; Belle oblivious.

Thank you all for loving her.

Just this side of heaven is a place called Rainbow Bridge.

When an animal dies that has been especially close to someone here, that pet goes to Rainbow Bridge.  There are meadows and hills for all of our special friends so they can run and play together. There is plenty of food, water and sunshine, and our friends are warm and comfortable.

All the animals who had been ill and old are restored to health and vigor.  Those who were hurt or maimed are made whole and strong again, just as we remember them in our dreams of days and times gone by.  The animals are happy and content, except for one small thing; they each miss someone very special to them, who had to be left behind.

They all run and play together, but the day comes when one suddenly stops and looks into the distance.  His bright eyes are intent.  His eager body quivers.  Suddenly he begins to run from the group, flying over the green grass, his legs carrying him faster and faster.

You have been spotted, and when you and your special friend finally meet, you cling together in joyous reunion, never to be parted again.  The happy kisses rain upon your face; your hands again caress the beloved head, and you look once more into the trusting eyes of your pet, so long gone from your life but never absent from your heart.

Then you cross Rainbow Bridge together….

Author unknown

Sugar, please don’t be mad at me for leaving you at the hospital.  We did what we thought was best for you, not knowing you will not make it out alive.  I am sorry for failing you and betraying the implicit trust you placed in me.