Last October my family"s dog passed. He was old, maybe 14 maybe 12. Shows how connected I was to him when I can"t remember his age properly, heh. I learned of his death a week later because my mother and sister left for Paris that day, leaving my father burdened with his death alone the entire week. He died of a stroke, and thankfully my father was in the room when they had to put him down.

The dog I knew was long gone. That"s what my father says, but I think he says it to make it hurt less. He wasn"t as excitable as he used to be in his old age. He was deaf, nearly blind, and full of so many lumps that it was coming. Yet I still found myself a little envious of him when I was doing my second round of college. When I"d be stuck studying I would look over at him napping on his little doggy bed without many cares and wished I could do the same.

I"m agnostic. I don"t have a big hope that I"ll see him again. But if I do, I"d like to take him for another walk. A long one where I let him lead and sniff around as much as he likes. One last time.

Rest in peace, Louie.

This piece was done by  ThatMuttMarie. I got this as a gift for my mother who was the closest to Loiue, having been his biggest caretaker in the house and the one he went to the most. His favorite place to be was by her side, even if his bed was somewhere else in the house. It didn"t matter if she was too busy to give him attention, he liked being with her. Just as he liked curling on her lap at the day"s end.