By Diana Lee
 UNIORB: WRITINGS |
It was the day after a heavy downpour that my Akita dog, Taki, had a swelling above his right eye and a puffy right cheek. He appeared to have a fever as he stood trembling in the brisk cold morning. He received an antibiotic shot that very day at the Vet. It wasn’t long after that the swelling above the eye went down and the fever seemed to be subdued but the swelling of the right cheek kept on enlarging. The next day, he looked worse than ever, his head had doubled in size. The lower eyelid of the right eye completely obscured his eyeball due to the stretched skin of the swollen cheek. Worse still, he appeared to be bleeding through the nostrils.
For the first time in his life, his tail drooped as I greeted him.With his head lowered and panting hard, he was unable to go for his usual morning stroll with his sister, Ebon. We went to the Vet at 9:00 a.m. to be the first ones there.The Vet couldn’t do anything for him because the hemorrhaging was from an unknown cause, probably complications related to his disease. The rare hereditary disease known as “Vogt-Harada,” which causes permanent blindness and skin lacerations afflicted Taki when he was only in his second human year. Since then, Taki had to pay weekly visits to the Vet and take costly medication on a daily basis. He knew his life was in the hands of the Vet, just as he knew and I knew that day was his very last visit to the Vet.
To end his 5 long years of suffering, the Vet performed euthanasia on him upon my pleading. He was given three shots as I watched in pools of tears. Taki died at 9:50 a.m. on Wednesday, November 17, 1999, ending his life of 6 human years (maximum years of longevity recorded for this disease).
The grief gripped me by surprise. I knew he was not going to outlive this year and yet I couldn’t receive his death as calmly as I expected. There have been moments that I find myself bursting in tears uncontrollably at the thought of him or recalling fond memories with wet eyes or sniffling at the mention of his name, or feeling an emptiness around the house - a void irreplaceable not even by the passage of time. People around us remembered him as the mascot of our house. How many times of the death scene at the Vet’s table burned into my brain replayed itself whenever my mind wandered off the long, sad road of memories!
Sometimes, people don’t seem to understand why the loss of a pet could be so devastating. Speaking generally, I think pets have more virtues than some humans.
-
The pet is completely loyal - it will never betray or abandon you when times get rough, whereas, humans can, sometimes even your best friend.
-
You can always trust your pet – it will never tell you a lie or put up a false pretense of liking something when it really doesn’t, but, humans do, telling malicious lies or even “white lies” to hide their true feelings.
-
The pet never gets angry with you, either by giving you the cold shoulder or attacking you, on the contrary, humans vent their hostilities toward you with harsh words or violence.
-
The pet always gives you moral support when you’re down, instead of offering kind words and help to ease your pain, it brushes against you with affection that speaks louder than words.
-
The pet is always considerate towards you. When you’re upset, it cheers you up; when you’re happy, it shares that joy by being playful with you. If you are slow in hiking along the path in the woods, it waits for you patiently.
-
The pet is totally dependent on you. Like an infant innocent with all its virtues intact, it needs to be fed, well cared for and loved.
-
The pet will always love you in return, unconditionally, whereas with humans, there is no guarantee for that return love.
Therefore, the loss of a pet meant much more — a loss of a loyal companion, a best friend and a loved one.
Rest in peace, Taki.
