It has taken me a while before I could urge myself to write about, I'd say, one of the heart-breaking moments in my life. Those of you who are close to me know about CJ, my dog. You'd know how much I love him and would often regale you with his cute antics that made him so dear to me and my family. But last June 3, CJ passed away and left us wondering if we should again invest so much love to one being that could ultimately hurt us more and leave us with an empty space in our hearts.
Charlie Jr or CJ is the son of our first dog, Charlie. He was born with a sister but it was dead when her mom gave birth to her. That's why CJ was so special with us, he was the only pup that survived. Even when he was little, CJ was really sweet and unlike his dad, he is not queasy whenever you want to hug him. He was a good dog, one that we could rely to guard our house. People are afraid to venture into our yard because of CJ (and his dad). One memorable trait of CJ was that he has a way of letting you know if he wants to go out, is hungry or thirsty. He would whine and bark to get your attention and when you ask if what he wanted to do (like, "CJ, do you want to go out?"), he'd respond by yelping and barking. It's as if he could understand what you were saying and he was somehow trying to answer back. He was very loyal to me and would always stick close to me whenever I am home. When there were times that I'm really down, I'd take him with me and we'd sit together in our front patio. CJ and I would just sit there on the steps - I'd be quietly thinking (sometimes crying) and he'd just be still, sitting close to me. Always ready to lend a hug. Like a friend who never needed to say anything but just lets you know, he's there. I remember telling him, "Wag mo ko iiwan ha." and he'd just look at me or would sometimes snort and go look around the yard. It was as if he was telling me that he couldn't promise that or maybe it was too much for me to ask...
I really don't like hospitals. There's something about the white walls that makes me uncomfortable. I refrain from touching anything for fear of catching some disease. Paranoid, I know but I just don't like hospitals. Thank God I've never been (and hopefully will not be) admitted to one. The only occassions I've been to hospitals were to visit sick friends. But last Sunday, I got a taste of what it's like to be a patient.
We have four dogs at home and the youngest ones, actually they're father and son, CJ and Cookie like to stay close with me whenever I'm home. And since CJ has been with me longer, he feels he deserve to have priority with my attention. Out of jealousy, he'd often snarl at Cookie whenever Cookie likes to cuddle up or sit on my lap. Last Sunday, we were watching a movie when my Dad came home with some sacks of rice for the store. CJ , Cookie and I were inside the house. Cookie, being the ignorant one, got scared on the bulky rice sacks and was stepping backwards toward where his dad, CJ was. A fight ensued but CJ had his leash on so he wasn't able to hold on to
Cookie and I, out of habit, tried to pull away CJ by grabbing his nape. He usually lets go of Cookie once I grab him and Cookie would just walk away. But that time, Cookie didn't walk away and instead kept on taunting his dad. So CJ reacted and bit my leg (instead of Cookie) which was between the two of them. I have a puncture wound on my right leg, behind the knee so we rushed to the ER at UST to get treatment.
Being my first time at the ER, I was pretty calm. Even as I made the call to Myke to tell him the news, I was still making jokes and was being sarcastic. He he.