Two weeks ago, before it happened, I had an odd feeling of losing someone - a strange urge to look up Allan Poe's "Raven" (posted it on the 19th). I am no literature enthusiast, nor would I be suddenly caught up by such sorrowful words, but the phrase "Nevermore" stuck in my mind for days. 

 

I often wondered what was in that little head of hers. I guess puppies demand less in their considerably short lives - perhaps a caring family, a good meal, and a care-free run on the dirty grass - that's all they need to be happy. She was a beloved member of our family, for that, I guess she was happy.

 

Each night when I finished work, weary and exhausted, upon the doorway I could always hear her little paws scatching on the door, as if she waited me for years, and could not spare the next minute but opening the door for me. She knew the sound of her belt. We used to tease her with that slight tinkle just to see how excited she could get. She used to be the only companion of Maggie during all those cold winter nights - no matter how late, Maggie told me, she always woke up and followed Maggie everywhere in the house. Her joys and often exaggerated excitements were the only things we know.  Though she was quite poorly before,  she couldn't and wouldn't complaint about her pain. 

 

We all know it evetually comes to a time when you outlive your pet, but when the time comes, the gut-wrenching feeling doesn't seem to get lighter to bear. I feel terrible not being with her during her last moments. I wonder what's in her mind at the time. I hope it was all her needed - a caring family, a good meal, and a care-free run on the dirty grass. At least she feels pain no more.