morbidmynd's psychobabble: my final goodbye... to a friend I hope to meet in the afterlife...

Do all dogs go to heaven?

I am once again reminded of how fragile life really is...
I don't wanna expound on the complexities and the mysteries of life like the last time someone I knew passed away. Refer to my old blog posts for that... I just wanna sit here. I just wanna type. It's been months since my last blog post and this is my FIRST blog post of the year and starting it with a blog post about death, could be a bad omen. But I don't really care anyway.

I am here sitting, and typing... my grief away.
You see, my dog Slikker [who would've turned 6 six years with us this February] met an untimely death last Saturday night.
I don't wanna be pointing blaming fingers so I guess I'll accept that the fault was as much as mine.
She was found dead yesterday morning by the side of the road by my father and sister after the village security guard told them that the other night Slikker escaped from our gate and got run over by a vehicle.
I blame myself for the whole debacle because the afternoon before Sunday [on Slikker's last day on Earth] I bathed her. It's a normal thing for Slikker to have a bath and later on that same day find some way to rub herself against the ground so she could have her "normal" scent back not the "just clean" scent that's alien to her senses. A couple of times before she also managed to escape the house and rub herself with poop-scent and come back tail-wagging, smelling of feces. [I always imagine her with a sheepish smile on her face that would sober up instantly the minute I scold her.]
But that Saturday night she escaped for the LAST time. If only I didn't bathe her that afternoon. If only my brother placed her back inside the cage after he fed her. If only the village guard called our attention when she escaped. If only that @%#*$()%&^$! driver looked at the road properly and saw that there was a living creature right in front of his/her frikken path. And if only I'd have felt that Slikker needed me that night... she would've lived.

Yep. All I have now are my if only's.

Never will I have someone by my side when my whole family's against me. Never will I have someone to comfort me and make me happy inside when I'm feeling emow-wish. Never will I have someone to call out to and arrogantly ignore me but would eventually give in when she hears a hint of anger in my voice.
Never will she greet me home from school ever again. Never will she stand by my side at the dining table during meal times pawing at my lap begging for food. Never will I feel her licking my my hands nor my face. Never will I hear her ferocious bark that's so loud for such a small dog. Never will I see her lying [with that sheepish grin I'd imagine again] on the sofa quite as naturally as if she truly owned that piece of furniture. Never will I see her lying on the pieces of laundry on the floor on those times I did the laundry. Never again will I get to chase her round and round the house until she sees that I'm tired of chasing her when it's time for her bath. And never again shall I have such a loyal dog as she was yet I could still see the fire in her spirirt telling me that though she is just a dog and dogs by nature submit willingly to humans, she on the other hand has pride that rises her above the average dog.

NEVER EVER AGAIN.

God, i HATE those words.

As I'm crying while I'm doing this, my tears fall for my beloved Slikker. I hope that your stay here with us, with me, was a happy one. I cannot express my gratitude sincerely enough for all the happy times you shared with me and standing by me on those times I needed someone the most.
Though you were just a dog, to me you were more than that. MUCH MORE than that. I cannot put into words the EXACT meaning of what you were in my life for the past [almost] 6 years.

So I thank you dear friend.

Thank you for the warmth.
Thank you for the the companionship.
Thank you for giving more than what a normal dog could ever give us, could give me.
Thank you for brightening up our house with your crazy antics.
Thank you for keeping the house safe for the last [almost] 6 years.
Thank you for giving us Cheska, Pollie and Porkie.
Thank you for being part of this family.
Thank you.
Thank you...