Nine months and then he's gone. My Bendon died at 11:00 this morning.
I could not believe my brother when he texted me today that my Bendon is really gone. It's not that I didn't expect it. I know he would go soon. It's just too overwhelming to finally swim in the mean truth that my only dog is gone for good.
I hate pneumonia. That's what killed Bendon. But most of all, I hate poverty. It stopped me from taking him to his doctor. When I was supposed to bring him to the clinic, I didn't even have 150 pesos, a normal vet's fee. I died every minute I saw him become emaciated. I hated it everytime he gagged with cough and colds. For a time, I wished he wouldn't suffer too much and too long. But now, that his suffering is over, I feel this void that stings gradually.
I wouldn't be seeing him wagging his tail when we come or see him open-mouthed while I munch our favorite snacks together, corn curls called Alibaba. I have no one to share this useless snacks I am about to eat. Today, this will taste like rubber. Today, Bendon has come to leave his sick body to be with God.
Yes, I really hope in my heart that what they say, "All dogs go to heaven" is true. That in the grander scheme of things, among the stuff that the Bible is silent about, what I hear people say that dogs really do go to heaven regardless of whose house they guard, is actually a part of God's plan.
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