And so he just looked at the world instead.
He arrived one Sunday evening. Like that summer starry night, he was quiet. But like the night, he was gentle. He came out of his hiding place brushing his nose on their feet, like a greeting. He was too small, they said. Too early, too early, they gave him out to die. He needs his mother, someone to warm him, breasts to suckle on.
But he was here already and he was too polite, embarrassed of his own existence that he hid himself as if not to disturb them from their normal lives. His was a gentle soul. He had a big heart for something too small.
He liked to look at the afternoon scenery. He enjoyed the warmth of the morning sun. He would spend long hours warming his small body. He had found a home at last. A home that would make him ride the tricycle every morning. A home that fed him milk and his favorite rice. He had a bright future for a while. He would belong to the family. He would become a part of the pack. He wagged his tail and awed everyone. Isn't this the puppy that mothered itself? He cleaned his paws, cleaned his own body cause mother was just a memory. He was pitiful but a lovely creature. They all hoped for him to be a big, strong dog. Someone they would call 'Wawa.' He was pitiful but an admirable dog.
But one afternoon, he went into a series of shaking. He did not touch his milk, his rice. He slept in the dark corner and it brought all forms of sadness.
Alas, he is indeed still too small. His heart is probably just the size of a pea and his body isn't strong. He slept all day and didn't show off the happy prancing of his four little feet...
Life is short, and if yours will be, remember you are loved. Remember how you made everyone happy just because you were strong. If there are some who deserved heaven, they are the ones with the purest souls, and yours, our little darling, is one of the brightest.
June 07, 2020
To Wawa and to other billions of uncared cats and dogs who were 'just another drop in the ocean'
No comments:
Post a Comment