13 July 2014

Pawsted by Mosilager

Bye Bye, Boo-Boo



A warm, sunny day. A nice walk, a lovely meal on a blue patterned sheet, surrounded by his closest family, that is how my best friend died.

For 12 years, slightly more than a decade, BooBoo walked with me, sometimes twice, sometimes thrice a day. We met fellow dog lovers, won over a few non-dog lovers, and played a lot. I dedicated songs to him, wrote stories about him, and sang his praises to anyone who would stay and listen long enough.

He had a wonderful personality. He knew his toys by name, he knew exactly what he wanted to do and how to best communicate it. He lived his life on his own terms. He ate when he wanted, played when he wanted, and stayed alone when he wanted. You had to learn the tricks to make him want to do something that you thought was best for him. For example, sometimes a “Come, Boo-Boo,” would not make him want to walk with me. However, “Bye Bye, Boo-Boo” would make him rush. He didn’t want to be left out of any adventure.

The illness came quickly. The best medical technology in the world and the best doctors in the world couldn't improve his quality of life. Yes, it slowed down the moment of separation by replacing organic life functions with medication. But what a life? Of having food, the life force, poison him slowly, feeling weak and hungry, but feeling even worse after eating. Not being able to take the stairs, not being able to sit or walk or run.

We tried our best to keep him going, but he didn’t want to stay any more. Sometimes, it is time to let go.

A warm, sunny day. A nice walk, a lovely meal on a blue patterned sheet, surrounded by his closest family, that is how my best friend died. I couldn’t quite believe it still when the doctor said he was gone. There was no difference, it was just like he had gone to sleep; no sharp transition between life and death; he looked at peace. I still kept hoping that life was like the magical world of Harry Potter, and that Boo would just get up and say that the injection had only killed the disease and not him. That didn’t happen. I wished him goodbye in the language he knows best – “Bye-Bye, Boo-Boo”. And this time, he didn’t come with me.