We have a dog named Apple, who was given to us by my father's uncle. From the moment she joined our family as a puppy, she brought an infectious energy and joy into our lives. She wasn't just a pet; she quickly grew into a beloved member of our family, leaving her paw prints on our hearts.
Initially, my mother was hesitant about having a dog in the house. She believed that taking care of a dog would be challenging and time-consuming. The idea of feeding, grooming, and training a pet seemed daunting. However, as Apple became a part of our daily lives, my mother's reservations began to fade. Apple had a way of winning hearts with her innocent eyes and playful nature. Slowly but surely, she grew to love Apple as deeply as the rest of us did. In fact, our dog became like the youngest child of the family. She was not just an animal to us; she was family.
Apple had a unique personality that made her stand out. We often found ourselves laughing at her peculiar way of walking-it wasn't quite a walk but more like a tiny, enthusiastic run. She would bounce around the house, her little legs moving quickly in an adorable attempt to keep up with everyone. One of her favorite things in the world was food, and she had some quirky preferences. Apple was really addicted to eating pandesal, biscuits, and even vegetables. Whenever she saw us holding a piece of pandesal, she would immediately perk up, her eyes widening with anticipation. It was impossible to resist her eager gaze, and she usually ended up getting a piece or two. One of my fondest memories of her was teaching her how to bark. Apple was quite a quiet dog and rarely used her voice. It was as if she didn't know she could bark. I took it upon myself to show her, and after some time and a lot of encouragement, she finally let out her first bark. It was a small but significant moment that brought us all so much joy. From then on, her occasional barks became a comforting sound in our home.
As time went on, Apple became more than just a pet to me; she became my stress reliever and my best friend. In times of sadness or stress, she was always there to offer a comforting presence. Her warm fur against my skin as she sat by my side had a way of calming me down. It was as if she understood my emotions without needing words. I often found myself talking to her about my day, and though she couldn't respond with words, her eyes always seemed to say, "I'm here for you." I would pet her frequently because I knew she loved the attention, and it became our little ritual. She would nuzzle against my hand, her eyes closing in contentment.
Apple was a strong dog. She survived many illnesses over the years, each time bouncing back with a resilience that amazed us. However, life has its limits, and eventually, a day came that we all feared. She fell ill again, and despite our hopes and the care we provided, this time was different. Watching her suffer was heartbreaking. It was a pain that pierced through all of us, and the house felt heavy with sadness. I remember sitting by her side, holding her paw and wishing for a miracle. It was incredibly painful to witness her struggle, knowing there was nothing more we could do to ease her pain.
My little sister was especially attached to Apple. She stayed by her side, refusing to leave, wanting to offer comfort to her beloved companion in her final moments. My sister and Apple had a bond that was special; they were like two peas in a pod, inseparable. It was heart-wrenching to see my sister so devastated, but at the same time, it was touching to witness the pure love and care she showed Apple. Even my mother, who once didn't want a dog, was deeply affected. She had grown to love Apple as one of her own, always taking care of her like she would for any of us. The loss hit her hard, and I could see the pain in her eyes. Apple had left a void in our family that was impossible to fill.
When Apple passed away, it felt like a piece of our family went with her. The house felt emptier, quieter. There were no more little barks to greet us when we came home, no more pitter-patter of tiny feet following us around. Losing her was like losing a part of myself. Even now, when I reminisce about the times we shared, it brings a mix of smiles and tears. Remembering how she suffered in her last moments breaks my heart, but I also remember the countless happy memories and the unconditional love she gave us.
Apple may no longer be with us in physical form, but she will always be a part of our family. Her memory lives on in the stories we tell, the photos we keep, and the love that still lingers in our hearts. She taught us so much about love, loyalty, and the simple joys in life. Apple was more than a pet; she was a friend, a companion, and a cherished family member. She will forever hold a special place in our hearts, reminding us of the bond we shared and the love that will never fade.
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Whispers of Insight
Non-FictionA collection of sudden realizations, reflections, and questions, expressed through short stories, poems, essays, and photo essays.