Wednesday, March 19, 2014

Elementary, My Dear Watson

Last Saturday afternoon I came home to the sad news that my 5 year old Maltese, Watson, has passed away due to Canine distemper and complications brought about by severe anemia. It turns out that he left us at 6AM but my parents decided to keep it from me until I got home from an engagement. They knew it was going to ruin my day. I wasn't even completely settled in and my bag was still slung to my shoulder when my granny decided to break it to me gently by saying, "Wala na si Watson" (Watson's no longer with us) to which I replied "Oo nga daw. 'Di ba nasa vet?" (Yes, I heard. Isn't he in the vet?) I knew at the back of my mind that something was up but I didn't want to acknowledge it. As if noticing my apprehension, she quickly corrected me with her signature "subtlety" and said "Patay na si Watson"(Watson is dead). I just stood there in the living room trying to think of a retort but all I could think of was "Okay" and I rushed to my parents' room (to cry, obviously!)

Posing with mah leaf

I can still remember when Watson arrived at home. I heard the car come in the garage and heard my dad calling. It was just another regular day except that dad was holding a tiny carrier and accompanying his footsteps, I heard a bark that sounded more like a heavy squeak. He set the carrier on the floor of our raised living room and opened the tiny door. Inside was a small white puppy that smelled like pee. I took the top off the carrier (it's was one of THOSE carriers) and took the pee-smelling puppy in my arms, raised it to my face and it started licking my forehead (Okay, probably not the best thing to do.) With having a new puppy comes the responsibility of coming up with a name. HOW THE HELL DO I COME UP WITH A NAME, I didn't even know what the puppy's breed was but I knew it was white and fluffy. I did what anyone in the 21st century would have done in instances like this - Google. I Googled "white, fluffy dog" and for whatever reason it was, I believed that the pee-smelling puppy's breed was West Highland White Terrier (Imagine the shock and shame on my face when I brought the puppy to the vet and found out that he was a Maltese) I still went on Google to find out how it's going to look like when it becomes and adult and saw this picture:

Okay, now I know that it's probably going to have a mustache. I took the stuff I know - it's a boy, it's white, it's going to have a mustache - and tried to think which of my favorite literary characters fits the bill. DR. JOHN WATSON from Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's Sherlock Holmes! I shall name my pee-smelling puppy WATSON! And the rest, as they say, is history.

"Me lick you hooman wid me licky tongue! (Is that an ant on my tongue?!)"
I've had this blog post saved in my drafts for 4 days now and was originally titled "Saying Goodbye (and The 5 Stages of Grief)". If Watson could read, THAT WILL BE CRAZY! I've never heard of a dog who can read let alone a dead dog who could read. Anyways, I did a bit of editing on this post (MORE LIKE A LOT) and decided to keep this very short and sweet, just like my dear Watson's life. I did not want to put all those negative things in here but I wanted to commemorate my dog's life with a little anecdote of the day we first met.

I've previously posted about him on Facebook but I think there's still merit in saying that I miss him and I was (still am) extremely sad that we had to part ways earlier. It's sad that my other Maltese, Scarlet, will never get the chance to play and make little puppies with him. I will continue to think about him the same way my other dog Gucci the Daschund will feel differently whenever he doesn't have to share the same space in the yard or he doesn't get a hump from a white furball.  HAHAHAHA! You silly billy, you. See you soon, yeah?

Hooman's favoritest picture of me

Missing you already,

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