As much as I hate to admit, yes, my beastie brother has departed Earth on 21 September 2009 at 7:20am. He had been suffering for 2 weeks and it was an ache seeing him purging bloody stools and regurgitating white foamy substance every now and then. From a playful rascal to a tired soul awaiting his Maker...all within 2 weeks..*Sigh* The one who is worse-hit is Gramps, who is stuck in the emotional rut. She is unable to get used to life without Boyboy; he was her constant companion when everyone was out in the day. She is the only one who is able to tolerate his fear for thunder, his habit of sleeping beside her (yes, on the bed), his pickiness in food (he ate only boiled chicken for his meals) and his irritating incessant barking. She would get angry whenever we drew the cane and refused to talk to us if it touched his furry body : /
After coming back at 4am from late-night chit chat at Kallang MacDonald's last Sunday, my heart sank when Bro told me to look at him. His condition had worsened and we were all prepared for the worst. I walked into the room and saw him shivering. Moments later, he started to urinate on the floor. Incontinence. He would usually run to his pee and poo station in the kitchen. He was starting to get wasted. He walked out of the room, jumped onto the sofa and vomitted yellow substance (Bile?) Aunt Maddy quickly woke up and washed the sofa - Everybody was not mad at him because we all knew it was not under his control...we also knew that he might not last till the next morning too.
Fat Boy, Bro and I decided to head straight to the vet early in the morning to perform a scan on him. If he could be saved, we would go all out to do so, otherwise, we would put him to sleep to shorten his suffering. We went back to rest hoping for time to pass quickly so that we could rush to the vet. A couple of hours later, Gramps switched on the lights and started wailing. Both Fat Boy and I jumped out of bed and saw Boyboy lying in a pool of blood, gasping for air (He was dying...) Aunt Maddy rushed out of her room and teared while patting him. I was too stunned for words and remained rooted on the bed. Moments later, he stopped gasping and remained stagnant - He was dead.
Aunt Maddy placed him into a big black plastic bag together with his toys, blankets and snacks and brought it to the rubbish chute near my block. Everybody was emotional, especially Gramps, who could not stop wailing and lamenting why he had to die so young (He just celebrated his 3rd birthday)
As they say, all dogs go to heaven. I hope you do too, yeah? You'll always be my beastie brother, Boyboy.
