17 December, 2005


When I was leaving for the US back in 97, my mom said that there's a very good chance I will never see my dog, Josefine (or Jaffy), again. I thought that was silly, my dog was young and strong and I was going to college and would definitely come back to visit.

We got Jaffy when she was just 32 days old—I went to US when she was 3. Since then, she became the glue that held my parents together, a substitute for a child in the house. Jaffy’s gone through a lot over the years: a lost eye and a brain swelling, two surgeries to remove cancerous tumors in her intestines and ovaries, another two surgeries to untwist her stomach that spontaneously got out of shape, a stopped heart and a few moments of a clinical death. Strict diet and experimental cancer drugs kept her going alive and well—at age 11 only graying muzzle gave away Jaffy’s age. Nevertheless, she was getting old and there was blood in her stomach again, so my parents were paralyzed with fear that at some point they would have to make a decision to put her to sleep.

She spared them the trouble. Jaffy passed away yesterday at about 6 PM after a coming back from a walk and walking up the stairs to the second floor apartment all by herself. There were few warning signs and it didn’t take her long to leave. My mom was there and remained amazingly strong and calm by taking care of logistics while waiting to cry till the next day.

In a couple of weeks Jaffy would have turned twelve. She was a good dog and the most loyal friend our family could ask for. I love you Jaffy


Blogger BK said...

Hon - every time I think about this I want to cry. I hope our adopted dogs help some, but I look forward to the time I we have a dog to take care of us.

20 December, 2005 19:47  

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