Thursday, November 9, 2017

RIP Venus


Returning from a long holiday five days ago, we arrived at our gate and was delighted to see Venus plod, ever so slowly towards us. She wagged her wee little tail tiredly and stood unsteadily for a while before retiring to her corner.

A few weeks earlier, her hind legs had collapsed unexpectedly. It was painful to see her drag herself around with fore legs weakened by age. We fed her some chicken liver and fresh milk everyday and the strength returned to her feeble legs.

She's 15 years 7 months old. Where did the time go?

I wasn't particularly fond of her when I first saw her at the local SPCA. At eight months old, she was restless, unruly and a handful. Everything changed after I returned from a three weeks holiday many years ago to be greeted by her unrestrained joy.

You cannot help responding warmly to unconditional love. In time, she grew to be the perfect companion to one and all.
When Xena (right) joined us four years ago, Venus was quick to establish her superiority as the pack leader. We see a submissive Xena respecting an older Venus.

Earlier this year, the role was reversed. We did not see it coming. Venus, old and tired submitting gradually to Xena.

The vagaries of life. The proud and haughty eventually surrendering to the ravages of time. Power and glory is impermanent.
Xena


Three days ago, she was officially bedridden. She rejected all food and liquid, panting occasionally, otherwise still. The fire had gone out of her although the brightness in her eyes remained. We cleaned and chatted with her twice a day, flipping her over to her side to prevent bed sores, not knowing if this made any difference to a dog.

Two days ago, I patted her head and spoke to her as if nothing had happened. I reminded her of Grandma who had loved her unconditionally so many years ago.

"I know you are tired, Venus. It's okay to be tired. Remember Grandma? Remember how she loved you? Go find her, Venus. Go find Grandma."

She looked at me. She blinked
Three days ago, she assumed this position and remained thus until her death.

When I spoke to her yesterday, I noticed that her eyes were tiredly bright. (Footage: right) She could still discern.

Night came and all in the family returned from their various engagements. They greeted her warmly. She wagged her tail woefully.

Dad patted her head last night.

"If you are tired, Venus, go in peace."

And she went, in peace, in the early hours of this morning. We who knew her, loved her dearly.

You will be missed. Rest in peace, dear Venus.