More than a year has already passed since I first met Showe (aka Chewy), a peachy male Shih-tzu residing in the house directly infront of my grandfather's. He was a good albeit sometimes moody dog, and whenever he encased himself in his playful/hyper mode I couldn't help but see him to be reminiscent of my own dogs, Nala and Simba-- the two unforgettable Shih-tzus we ourselves used to own for at least 7 years until their unfortunate demise just a few years ago. It was partly because of this that I found a liking to the dog and made it a point to visit him outside whenever I could.
Eventually, my occasional visits to Chewy led me to meet one of our neighbor's trusted househelps, Manang Puring. She was the one who religiously looked after Chewy day and night, from feeding him to walking him each afternoon to cleaning up after whatever mess he made. She was so attached to him that there was even a time when she took the consequence of gaining a multitude of scabs on her arms and legs just so she could relieve Chewy of galis, which she amazingly enough managed to do without much (or even any) help from the vet. The old woman never ceased to prove herself an excellent caretaker, treating the dog as her own baby even though it technically wasn't even hers, but her "amo" 's. Regardless, she always saw to it that Chewy was in good shape--- or she tried her best to keep him that way, at the very least.
But as it turned out, the fact remains that not even the best of mothers can completely keep her children's health within her control. This morning, we saw Manang crouched helplessly over what looked like a peach feather boa outstretched in the shade. She glanced up at us with tears in her face and the most genuinely miserable look an aging woman could pull off, and gradually tried to get the words out of her mouth like a little kid who just lost a good friend.
Patay na si Showe...
I seriously just didn't know what to say. I remember having a dozen questions in my mind for her, about how he died and if she was going to bury him or just throw him away, if she was going to buy a new dog and if our neighbors, the dog's owners, even cried for him (which was answered when Chewy's owner went out of the house without so much of a glimpse at the dog). But then everything just sounded insensitive so I restrained myself from doing so.
It was only at that moment when I realized just how important Chewy was to her. She just looked so confused with what she was going to do next. The heartbroken expression on her face made it look like her whole world had just collapsed before her--- and looking back at the time she spent with Chewy, it seemed that it really had.
After his death, there won't be anymore daily afternoon dog walks, weekly baths, or entertaining Chewy's kitten friends, and we could see the entire feeling of dismay in Manang's face. Aside from having lost her only constant companion, she had also lost the life she had gotten so used to living, a life that brought fulfillment to her by merely taking care of a dog that had already grown so much on her. Now that sense of fulfillment was gone, and she'd have to look for it somewhere else.
I felt so bad for her especially when I saw that expression on her face. It makes me feel guilty to think that I myself might have left certain people around me unappreciated, while Manang actually lost the only thing she'd been pouring her life into.
Up to now, Chewy still hasn't been buried. Manang Puring placed him outside the house in this black garbage bag, where she placed a cardboard placard by his side. At first I thought it merely contained instructions for someone to bury him somewhere, but when I finally got a closer look, I got to read what it really said. Like a mother's epitaph for her son, it read in a scribble of green ink:
Showe,
I love you.
Goodbye...
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