Boys Don’t Cry Today started out as a routine day…
Today started out as a routine day, EE2006 lecture at 0800hrs, CS1102 at 1200hrs and a wedding rehearsal at 1900hrs. My sister was supposed to pick me up at 2pm and then go off to sell our old electronics at Cash Converter.
sms @ 1237hrs - kcc
“I pick u n u go with me to vet with candy first. then we settle other things at cash converter later ok?”
On reading this, I knew it was the end of the road for our dear old dog candy.
A yapping, hyper excitable thing when young, we would bring her for walks at my home in tampines. I remember the first walk we took. I was prmary 2 and I came home to this suprise. My mom said somebody gave her to us and I can’ remember if we named her or if she was already called candy. Anyway, when my sister came home we all went down to the playground to walk her. On the red leash, she started jumping up at everything around her as we left the house. My mom said that she was just too excited at the new surroundings. That was just the first of many walks she went on.
I remember how she would refuse to walk through mimosa.
I remember how she would run away from us when off her leash, so difficult to catch.
I remember how she hid at the dining table, running round and round so we could not catch her.
I remember how she would mercilessly lick people’s faces when given the chance.
I remember how she would run on the smooth floor with no traction, a hillarious sigh, scampering around like a mad woman cos we were chasing her just to see her do that.
That was when she was young and full of energy.
Just 2 years later, she was mated with a butch at a pet shop and lolly came along. She was delivered by uncle patric. While pregnant, candy was slow and less active and after she gave birth to 4 puppies, 1 died almost immediately. the second one died 2 days later. The 2 surviving ones were lolly and noughat.
The puppies were so cute. They were like little sausage rolls on the floor, wiggling around blind and deaf bumping into walls and other household furniture. They made soft whining sounds and cries for milk from candy. They like to rest on giant cusions we had, ironically spoiled by them too because they we soild with urine. They were fed by Candy and grew to be the curious, bouncing lolly and the squinted Noughat.
I remember when Noghat got his head stuck in a white picket fence my dad built for them and we had to hammer it out. This white picket fence was originally yellow, repainted once at our street eleven home. It had a swinging door in the centre with a latch. I still can see it so clearly in my mind.
My aunt was given the boy soon after and he has lived with her ever since. We lived at street eleven for a couple more years. So many birthday pictures with the two dogs. The black face she once had, a pretty diamond shaped patch of black fur on her forehead. Lolly bcame mine in a sense but i didn’t take care of her as much as I should have. My sister did most of the cleaning up and sometimes I did it too when there was nobody else around. But all that is a different story.
Candy mellowed down when she was operated on during her mid life to sterilise her. I remember the car ride home, happy that she was back with us. She was enjoying the wind in her face and stood up in her box. This SBR8443J, my moms old car with so many memories locked away inside it. That too is another whole story.
It was a quiet and sad life living in the back of our condo at Azalea Park. We were mostly out at school, only letting them into the garden when we came back. I sort of regret treating them like this. perhaps if we trained them better they would have been let into the house. Nothing really much happend here. Candy grew older, face greying, mood mellowing, all behind my back while I grew up. I’m so sad I never really played with her more.
After 4 years there, in 2002 we moved into our current house at Riverina View. My dogs would finally have the whole area outside to wander about and relax in the sun. My grandparents moved in, we got a new dog Rocher and they didn’t really get along. Rocher would bully candy when they bumped into each other. Barking and snapping. Lolly would make a feeble attempt at defending her by barking as fiercely as she could. After lolly died, there was nobody to stand up for her, only us when we happened to see it.
Meanwhile, Candy got older and older, weaker and weaker, whiter and whiter. This must have happened while I was away at NS. Because I don’t remember Candy getting old. One day I just realised how old she was. Wandering in circles outside her kennel every day, going blind in one eye, then both. Deaf before we knew it. Her food was too hard so we soaked it in hot water to soften it daily. When her appetite waned we added bacon bits. Meanwhile she just wandered in circles daily, taking extended naps. I would come home from school and peep at her just to see if she was breathing. Each time she still was. Relieved, I would go upstairs and carry on with my life. Soon she was soilinig herself in her kennel, unable to get up. Yelping for help. Some days she was so stiff she wouldn’t move the whole day. We would sometimes talk about putting her to sleep but it never really materialised because the next day she woiuld be fine, doing her rounds again till the sun went down.
Today was one of the worst things I’ve ever seen in my life. Seeing a dog euthanized is so traumatic, disturbing and just troubling. Although the vet says “theres no more suffering”. I know there certainly is - its in my heart. It still hurts after 9 hours. It’ll probably go away but not so soon I guess. I don’t want to move on too quickly. I feel my dog deserves abit more rememberance. Without an immortal soul, they have so much personality, feelings and thought. I wish other people were as simple. Although so disturbed, I’m glad I was there at her final moments. I’m just speechless already. Its just a big hole I’m feeling now.
I’m feeling a great sense of loss but I’m sure the void is so tiny compared to my sister’s.
Here’s to the memory of Candy, a moment of silence please.
-I’ve got nothing more to say, boys do cry