Nookster
Tourist
It's been almost 6 months since my best friend passed away, sometimes I miss him, like right now, so I wanted to write about it.
His name was Raven and he was a small malinois for his breed but always full of energy, and always wanting to play every second someone was around.
My parents decided to get a puppy because they were afraid of the break-ins in the neighborhood, so they needed an outdoor dog, but I knew for sure that they would never take care of him properly so I told them not to, even though I secretly still really wanted a dog.
Years went by and I was his main care taker of ma boy, we became very close, so close that every time he heard me coming down the stairs he would run to a window to stare at me, waiting desperately, and I always complied, taking the time to spend it with him, even with a lot of people, when I was there I was the only thing that existed for him.
One day there were a lot of rumors in my city about dog thieves and of course my dog decided to run away at that moment (it has happened several times but the only times it happened he would always walk for about an hour before coming back and starting barking for us to open our gate). He was a very curious dog, he really loved adventure. At the time I thought he was lost forever.
I mourned him as much as I needed, I had time to live with his absences until 4-6 months later when we got a call from a vet over 3-4+ hours away, someone had found him and rushed him to an emergency vet.
He was in such a starving state he was having trouble walking, and the fact that the inside of his hip was cut deep inside didn't help matter either, at one point he had to get real medical care instead of a temporary stitch or his skin would just flop. I was asked to help him stay still but he was in so much pain he tried to get free and the stitches burst, I just saw his muscles exposed, horrible to see.
We were told the surgery was too expensive and probably wouldn't work so there was nothing we could do but hope.
I took care of him every day as best I could, my mother said he wasn't the same anymore but he was still him, he had the same gaze, the same way of seeing things or the same manners and personality as before, just without energy or strength to do anything, I witness him getting weaker and weaker, there was nothing to do, it was unbearable; his last day we thought he was getting better, the next day I found his body, I carried him and I had to bury him.
I miss you my friend, we only shared 4 years together but still I miss you.
His name was Raven and he was a small malinois for his breed but always full of energy, and always wanting to play every second someone was around.
My parents decided to get a puppy because they were afraid of the break-ins in the neighborhood, so they needed an outdoor dog, but I knew for sure that they would never take care of him properly so I told them not to, even though I secretly still really wanted a dog.
Years went by and I was his main care taker of ma boy, we became very close, so close that every time he heard me coming down the stairs he would run to a window to stare at me, waiting desperately, and I always complied, taking the time to spend it with him, even with a lot of people, when I was there I was the only thing that existed for him.
One day there were a lot of rumors in my city about dog thieves and of course my dog decided to run away at that moment (it has happened several times but the only times it happened he would always walk for about an hour before coming back and starting barking for us to open our gate). He was a very curious dog, he really loved adventure. At the time I thought he was lost forever.
I mourned him as much as I needed, I had time to live with his absences until 4-6 months later when we got a call from a vet over 3-4+ hours away, someone had found him and rushed him to an emergency vet.
He was in such a starving state he was having trouble walking, and the fact that the inside of his hip was cut deep inside didn't help matter either, at one point he had to get real medical care instead of a temporary stitch or his skin would just flop. I was asked to help him stay still but he was in so much pain he tried to get free and the stitches burst, I just saw his muscles exposed, horrible to see.
We were told the surgery was too expensive and probably wouldn't work so there was nothing we could do but hope.
I took care of him every day as best I could, my mother said he wasn't the same anymore but he was still him, he had the same gaze, the same way of seeing things or the same manners and personality as before, just without energy or strength to do anything, I witness him getting weaker and weaker, there was nothing to do, it was unbearable; his last day we thought he was getting better, the next day I found his body, I carried him and I had to bury him.
I miss you my friend, we only shared 4 years together but still I miss you.