It is said that when you are about to die, your whole life flashes in front of you. If that is true, then I think I am about to die. For I can see it as clear as crystal, the day I was born. Okay, not see, as I hadn’t opened my eyes until after about two weeks, but I could feel. And feel I did.
This is my story of my first few weeks with my mother.
Who am I? My name is Typsy. I am a Golden Labrador, the breed of dog better known as the Golden Lab-Retriever.
It was a very painful journey, from my mother’s womb to the outer world. But I made it, safe and sound. I was grateful to God for that. I couldn’t open my eyes, for they were clamped shut and wouldn’t open until I was two weeks old. All around I could hear my siblings in the same situation as I was. Nevertheless, I felt my way to my mother’s nipple, so that I could have my nourishment.
For the next two weeks that was all I did, and I was happy. I enjoyed being with my brothers and sisters and it was wonderful, but the most beautiful day I remember was the day I opened my eyes. It was blissful. That day I caught the first sight of the world that lay in front of me, of the one who had brought me to this world, and of my kin.
I also saw my mother’s owners, as she called them. It was later that I was to understand what ‘owner’ meant. They looked kind and affectionate and the young ones would pet us all the time. They were the ones who came to feed us as well when we were old enough to start eating things other than milk.
After another two weeks, I saw some strange people in the room we were residing in. They looked similar to mother’s owners, but I could sense that they were not the same. They did not smell the same. I saw, much to my astonishment, that one of them, a young one, picked up one of my brothers and cuddled him. The boy squealed in delight as my brother licked his nose. I laughed at the scene and looked towards my mother. She had a distant look on her face, which concerned me.
That was the last time I saw my brother. When I asked my mother about his whereabouts, she replied that he had gone to make a life of his own, just as I would need to. I was horrified. I did not want to leave my mother at any cost. I was a young girl, after all. Anything could happen to me out in that big, bad world.
Alas, it wasn’t meant to be. Three days later another family came and took me with them, even though I was screaming that I didn’t want to go.
* * *
Now that I look back, I savour the days, months and years that I spent with this family, especially the youngest one. He was a mere three years old when I came into his life, when he came into mine. And now, he is a smart boy of thirteen.
All these years, my love for the four members of this family has grown. They have cared for me, provided me with everything and above all, given me love. I saw so many of my species during these ten years rotting on the streets and I consider myself lucky that I got such a wonderful family.
Even though there were ups and downs throughout, losing so many of my little ones the same way that my mother lost me, being toilet trained, being reprimanded and what not, I would never trade it for anything.
And now, as my last moments are upon me, I only wish that they be happy in their lives. My only wish was that I could see all four together before I left, and by God’s grace, that wish was granted. The eldest one, the man of the house, came back to the house where the woman and the girl lived with me. Even the youngest one, the boy, was here.
Now that they’re all beside me, I can leave peacefully, knowing that they love me and I love them back.
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