It was a hot day today.
The kind of day with clear blue skies and a hot beating sun.
The vivid green of the grasses and trees whizzed past us as we drove past the park.
Jogging tracks lined the park stretching from one end to the other, reaching us again when we drove around to the other side of the park.
You laid on me, snuggled up in the towel with your head in the crook of my arm. A while later, I shifted you higher to look out the window, but you were probably not registering to any of the views. Your cateract unseeing eyes had caused you to lose your sight a few years back and now, you couldn’t see, much less enjoy the view.
I suppose you had also forgotten who I was. Dementia had evidently came to you during your senior years.
You tried to keep your head up but it was just too much for you to take and after awhile, your head lolled back onto my shoulder. As I cradled you gently, I could hear your shallow breathing and feel the too-fast beating of your heart through your protruding rib cage.
The sun was shining down on your face, but you might well be oblivious to it too.
We were on our way to the vet. And despite all the illnesses wrecking your body, maybe you were sensing something with your muted doggy senses.
For weeks you had lain there without a sound. Not moving, not eating, only accepting little of whatever we syringe-fed you. We knew your time was nearing and that you were just waiting. Waiting for freedom from all the pain and discomfort and illnesses.
If you were not in any pain, we would have been prepared to wait with you till the end. You would have spent your remaining days in the safe and familiar surroundings of home. We would have let you go whenever you thought you were ready.
But last night when you yowled piteously throughout the night, we decided that we had to bring you in to the vet. In all the years that we’ve had you, even in your sickly days previously, you had never acted like this.
The vet saw you and gave us your prognosis.
We were given final moments with you and then, it was fast and painless and peaceful.
Seventeen years ago, you came into our lives when you were but a few weeks old. A small white fluffy ball of fur that was perfectly content to just lay quietly on our laps feeling protected and safe from crowds.
Today, along with the car ride and the ray of sunshine that we experienced together, were our last ones with you.
We drove back home later in the afternoon under the same beating sun. The skies were as clear and blue as it was in the morning; the park with all its greenery and tracks laid out as before.
But my arms were now bare.
And our hearts bereft and heavy.
There was so much of the day left but there was none left for you.
You are free now, Pepper.
Run with the wind, jump high into the skies, see the new world.
Cross that rainbow bridge.
And go find your beloved Ah Pek.
