When I returned home, you were still fine. Then, as I called you for dinner, you somehow could not walk. I carried you and tried to help, but to no avail. I was frightened, did you know that? And I could feel that you were frightened too. I sent you to the Mount Pleasant Animal Hospital, and they said you had a stroke. I was relieved. At least they knew what was wrong with poor you.

Dr. Audrey gave you a couple of shots that made you yelp in pain. I felt your pain no less. After I brought you home, you started having fits. I panicked, I truly did! Seeing you shaking, my heart broke. Immediately, we sent you back to the hospital.

I was cradling you when we reached there. Before the vet came out, you had another fit. I saw your entire body shaking uncontrollably and your tongue was pearl white. I broke down in tears, did you know? Or were you in too much pain?

They said you had to be hospitalized. I left for home, weeping. The next day, Dr. Goh, another vet, said there was something wrong with your brain, and that was causing your fitting. He said he would try medication on you, but if you did not seem to improve, you would have to be put down to sleep. There and then I starting praying to every single god and deity I knew of. I never believed in them, but for you, it was the only thing I could do.

On the third day, you seem to have improved. When you saw us approaching your ‘ward’, you tried to stand, and you managed it, which you previously could not. I was so proud of you! Your tail started wagging violently, and you flashed your brilliant trademark smile at everyone. Dr. Audrey and Dr. Goh both said that you could go home the next day if you were able to stand and eat on your own. I jumped for joy inside.

Before I visited you the next day, I prepared everything for your return. Your blanket was in the car, your bed newly washed, the floor mopped and clean, and my heart anxiously calling for you. However, bad news awaited us.

Apparently, your condition took a turn for the worse, and there was nothing we could do. I recalled asking you lots of times, did you recognize us? You did not appear to do so. You just laid there, blankly staring at us. Your tail was not wagging, and your mouth was tightly shut. You could not even stand. I knew you were trying very hard, for you would glance at your weak back legs whenever you failed. I could really feel your helplessness too. Devastated, I quieted down to hear what the vets had to say. My dad requested to speak in the room, refusing entry to me. I knew what was going to happen. I was allowed to spend the remaining fifteen minutes or so with you.

Did you remember me cradling you, talking to you? Did you hear my pleas for you to stand up and tell me it was all a joke? Did you forget who I was? I hope not.

Then the inevitable came. My dad told me to give you a last hug. That released all the tears that I had been welling up for those fifteen minutes. Then they ushered me out.

What upset me most was that I could not be with you when you left this world. I knew you needed me, and I needed you as well. If I could turn back time, I would never have left your side when you needed me the most. If I could turn back time, I would have told you that I wish I was suffering along with you, for watching you suffer was much more painful than suffering. But now, it is all too late. I know that even though God had snatched you away from me, our blissful memories will remain with me for as long as I live. Here I am, writing this, hoping to let you know how much I love you, and how much you have taught me.