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Ruth is a full-time writer. Foodie. Happy camper. Wanders a lot. Used to have the worst taste in men. A reformed swipe-a-holic. Reviving her blog after its death.

Tuesday, March 31, 2009

No love for the dog-eaters



I noticed a thin white dog with black spots outside our house four days ago. He stayed under the shade of our car and it reminded of Purina's "They're homeless, not worthless" ad campaign. Back then, I thought that he was our neighbor's dog just wanting to explore the area.


Two days later, I took Maia, Fifi, and Hunter for a ride on our tricycle (a bike with a passenger's seat). The same dog looked at us longingly. My mom confiirmed to me that it's a homeless dog.


I gave orders to our househelp to provide food for the dog after our own pets have eaten. I was told his morning meals came from another neighbor.


Yesterday, my mom said some of the tricycle drivers wanted to capture the dog to eat it. Our kindly neighbor opposed to the idea, he was the same one who fed the dog every morning. You know what the heartless peeps said to him? "We'll give you a share of the meal."


We couldn't find the poor dog after that. I can only suspect that the poor dog has been eaten. I feel guilty for not intervening earlier, at the same time, I feel mad at those men who ate him.


***



Maia


Maia is my 16-year-old (human years) Asong Pinoy (Aspin). I got her when she was a puppy. Her fur was soft and white as snow. She liked to bark at all things which annoyed my aunt endlessly.


When my mom would get mad at her, she would run to me and hide her snout under my body. I remember using my own hands to shield her from my mother's spanking. When she got older, she got into the habit of sleeping with me on the same bed.


She would wake me up when it was time to go to school and then she would go to my mom to wake her up. The only time she wouldn't act like an alarm clock was during weekends. Nobody taught her to do that. It's plain instinct from her part.


She lost one of her eyes a long time ago during a fight. Her other eye is becoming blind of old age and her hearing is not as good as before.


Last month, I thought I was going to lose her. She was pooping blood and vomiting red, sticky substance. She was too weak to eat. We confined her for three days and then she was released with strict orders to stick with her special diet.


Now, I feel every single moment that I see her is a precious time. I talk to her and tell her how much I love her. I know she understands me the way she understood the times when I was crying and she would approach me to lick my tears away.


She's also acting a little prima donna nowadays. She would now interrupt whenever I pet Fifi and Hunter. She would bark at them when I let them in at the middle of the night because it's raining outside. She would also demand that she be let in and out of my room as she pleases.


I don't mind. I want her to stay happy as she can be until she turned 30 in human years.