I had a dog.
We named him Blue after his dominant pale blue skin with occasional white patches. Don’t ask about the origin of his color or his race, canine racists. I was 6 or 7 back then. I believed that dogs just end up at your doorstep if you are lucky enough. I knew we were damn lucky.
Blue was great. He was a better friend than all humanity I have ever encountered (I am no social buffoon, just trying to be honest). When I was young, a neighboring tricycle driver would tease me to tears. I remembered myself begging for help from paternity. “Help me tease him. Help me please.” I failed though. Nobody helped me. They were more attracted to the idea of laughing at me. I would weep, run back home and close out the world. Blue tried to defend me. He would bark and snarl. He’s a dog and he was physically smaller than humans. Blue would fail but he tries, something nobody ever did for me. Nobody took me seriously. It didn’t hurt so much back then either. Its only when you understood life, the memory creeps back in and slowly pushes a knife through your heart. It is painful I tell you.
Other times, the tricycle driver hurts Blue only to make me shed some tears. It was my pain that reminded him of his “superiority” and he thought it was pure hilarity. I would try to defend Blue but I will reserve safety for me selfishly. A thing Blue never did.
I never knew that the things that happened were preparing me for the worst. I never knew that my painful childhood was about to get worst.
After school, I went back home. I was welcomed by a whole new Blue. He acted strange. He looked hungry and ferocious. I still remember the details of this part. His teeth showed no mercy but his eyes were begging for pity. I know something’s wrong, really wrong. He ran for me and I ran away. I lost trust. I hid in my room and waited for my suspended consciousness to get back to normal. I did not expect what was coming.
I heard Blue whine his loudest. I almost knew the pain he was going through. I also knew it was his last whine, but I tried to deny. That night, I cried myself to sleep because I knew he was dead and gone forever.
At that young age I knew death and the excruciating pain. My parents said “he was not murdered, he was given euthanasia”, but I think euthanasia falls under the category murder. They also said that the day before, he was fed with “vetsin" (MSG) by an unknown entity that drove him crazy. The unknown entity is obviously known. They thought having a crazy dog around the house wasn’t safe or practical so they killed Blue.
You might say I am such a whiner and should get over my blue-skinned dog but I lost a surrogate emotional inter-species guardian. Imagine that.
The whole ordeal taught me things though. I knew there were lessons. I can’t allow Blue to die without reason.
Enjoy everything you’ve got. Expect them to live and be prepared. No hug or kiss would last forever, they will always fade too soon. Always look for the bright light. Focus more on the bright side but don’t forget the other side. At least Blue left not only me, but the cruel world where I belong. He deserved peace. I know his memory will not last forever, but I know it would live as I do.
What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.
I have mourned for loss and enjoyed gain. Blue helped me all along, he always did. This is for you, Blue. This is for you.
(any reactions or comments please let me know: wingspan300@yahoo.com)
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