A tale of two dogs
July 29, 2006 | 12:00am
It all started with a Kitkat chocolate commercial featuring a dancing dog.
For days after the commercial aired, my siblings and I obsessed about owning a dog, incessantly bugging our mom through little performances featuring us as actors and either a smooshed up blanket or one of our many stuffed toys playing our pet "dog." We had a name picked out early on, a unanimous choice mirroring our shared weakness for sweets.
The resounding response during the weeks of relentless hounding was a "we’ll see" or "I’m still thinking about it." Hearing that almost made us lose hope, but still, we held on patiently. Aside from reading up on various breeds and surfing the Net looking at photos of an assortment of dogs, we also visited numerous pet shops and in turn, had countless infatuations with many different dogs. Mom’s obvious concern about owning a pet was that it would change our way of life forever.
After storming the heavens with prayers, the much-awaited answer came in the form of an adorable Shih Tzu, whom we fell in love with at first sight. Watching him as he bounced around in his cage in the shop window, playing with a dirty trapo, did it for us. We bought him on the spot, much to the dismay of another family waiting in the shop.
From the beginning, Twix was a dog who had us wrapped around his chubby little paws. Having a pet, after waiting for so long, had us unsure of what to do next. His first night at home almost kept us from going to a dinner with relatives from out of town only because we didn’t want to leave him home alone. He even slept in a cage in my room that night, and my brother and I stayed awake all night long watching him, just to make sure he was all right.
His every bark, infrequent as it was and in a very low bass voice, brought our household into a flurry of activity as we ran around trying to figure out what he wanted. We also tackled the arduous task of toilet-training him. Amazingly, though, even our inexperience was not a hindrance to his learning quickly. In just a week, he practically trained himself, which laid to rest my mom’s fear of unexpected surprises.
However, aside from being intelligent and incredibly affectionate, Twix had a naughty streak. He loved running off with our slippers and laundry (socks and underwear in particular), and loved jumping up in the air to retrieve whatever had the misfortune of hanging precariously on doorknobs and low edges of counters and tabletops. He also loved riding on my brother’s skateboard, which he considered to be his.
Sadly, he passed away during a family trip to Thailand, a few days before his first birthday. We believe that more than anything, he died missing us, probably heartbroken. Without a doubt, one of the most traumatic things we endured as a family was burying him on the day of his birth together with the toys he loved so much and with the pasalubongs we got for him during the trip.
Mourning his loss took a very long time. More than just the emptiness was the guilt. Guilt at having left in the first place, guilt at staying away too long and not coming home sooner, and more than anything, remorse for not being able to say goodbye. It felt so unfair that we had him for such a short time knowing we still had so much love to give. We had grown attached to him, spoiling him, and in a way, centering our lives around his.
It felt like a part of us died along with Twix, and although we felt that getting another pet would never completely heal us, opening ourselves to the experience of loving a pet again was an experience we were willing to go through.
A visit to the mall had us unexpectedly taken with yet another Shih Tzu. Fudge became my 13th-month-pay treat to my family that Christmas.
Having a dog the second time around was an experience in itself. Inasmuch as we didn’t want to compare Twix to Fudge, we couldn’t help but notice the differences in their personalities. Similarly, they had a shared fear of thunder and fireworks and exhibited extreme possessiveness over their toys and stuffed animals. However, whereas Twix was easy to train, demonstrative and somewhat obedient, Fudge was the complete opposite. I remember crying a month after we bought him because of a phone call I received from my mom, asking me to find a home for Fudge. She was ready to give up on him. Eventually, though (and with a lot of patience), we were able to adjust to Fudge’s quirks.
His mischievous nature still has us constantly on our toes, guarding against his continued defiance at our attempts at discipline. He has not outgrown his habit of climbing up onto the dining table to steal food and play with the utensils. He insists on being fed only by hand and creates a ruckus by going to you, looking you straight in the eye and barking loudly whenever he’s hungry or thirsty. He’s our furry morning alarm clock, our monotonous doggie doorbell, and sometimes, our smelly bedmate.
We spoil him. But more than just the birthday parties with both doggie guests and their humans celebrating with KFC chicken, french fries, vanilla ice cream, treats and toys during special occasions, we spend quality time with him. Whether it’s taking lots of pictures while playing together, playing dress up, going to doggie play dates, joining contests (like the recent Philippine STAR Swatch Year of the Dog photo tilt) or even just cuddling in bed watching TV, we treat Fudge more like our baby than our pet.
My family has been doubly blessed with the gifts of Twix and Fudge. They have taught us the value of shared responsibility. They have also taught us that in their helplessness and dependence on us, we are entrusted with their care, which goes beyond providing them with food and shelter.
Through the death of Twix, we realized that although death is inevitable, it is up to us to make the most of the time we have together. Through Fudge’s life, we continue to value the joy he brings to our lives, which we try to reciprocate by giving him the same unconditional love.
Twix and Fudge have given us the opportunity to love.
For days after the commercial aired, my siblings and I obsessed about owning a dog, incessantly bugging our mom through little performances featuring us as actors and either a smooshed up blanket or one of our many stuffed toys playing our pet "dog." We had a name picked out early on, a unanimous choice mirroring our shared weakness for sweets.
The resounding response during the weeks of relentless hounding was a "we’ll see" or "I’m still thinking about it." Hearing that almost made us lose hope, but still, we held on patiently. Aside from reading up on various breeds and surfing the Net looking at photos of an assortment of dogs, we also visited numerous pet shops and in turn, had countless infatuations with many different dogs. Mom’s obvious concern about owning a pet was that it would change our way of life forever.
After storming the heavens with prayers, the much-awaited answer came in the form of an adorable Shih Tzu, whom we fell in love with at first sight. Watching him as he bounced around in his cage in the shop window, playing with a dirty trapo, did it for us. We bought him on the spot, much to the dismay of another family waiting in the shop.
From the beginning, Twix was a dog who had us wrapped around his chubby little paws. Having a pet, after waiting for so long, had us unsure of what to do next. His first night at home almost kept us from going to a dinner with relatives from out of town only because we didn’t want to leave him home alone. He even slept in a cage in my room that night, and my brother and I stayed awake all night long watching him, just to make sure he was all right.
His every bark, infrequent as it was and in a very low bass voice, brought our household into a flurry of activity as we ran around trying to figure out what he wanted. We also tackled the arduous task of toilet-training him. Amazingly, though, even our inexperience was not a hindrance to his learning quickly. In just a week, he practically trained himself, which laid to rest my mom’s fear of unexpected surprises.
However, aside from being intelligent and incredibly affectionate, Twix had a naughty streak. He loved running off with our slippers and laundry (socks and underwear in particular), and loved jumping up in the air to retrieve whatever had the misfortune of hanging precariously on doorknobs and low edges of counters and tabletops. He also loved riding on my brother’s skateboard, which he considered to be his.
Sadly, he passed away during a family trip to Thailand, a few days before his first birthday. We believe that more than anything, he died missing us, probably heartbroken. Without a doubt, one of the most traumatic things we endured as a family was burying him on the day of his birth together with the toys he loved so much and with the pasalubongs we got for him during the trip.
Mourning his loss took a very long time. More than just the emptiness was the guilt. Guilt at having left in the first place, guilt at staying away too long and not coming home sooner, and more than anything, remorse for not being able to say goodbye. It felt so unfair that we had him for such a short time knowing we still had so much love to give. We had grown attached to him, spoiling him, and in a way, centering our lives around his.
It felt like a part of us died along with Twix, and although we felt that getting another pet would never completely heal us, opening ourselves to the experience of loving a pet again was an experience we were willing to go through.
A visit to the mall had us unexpectedly taken with yet another Shih Tzu. Fudge became my 13th-month-pay treat to my family that Christmas.
Having a dog the second time around was an experience in itself. Inasmuch as we didn’t want to compare Twix to Fudge, we couldn’t help but notice the differences in their personalities. Similarly, they had a shared fear of thunder and fireworks and exhibited extreme possessiveness over their toys and stuffed animals. However, whereas Twix was easy to train, demonstrative and somewhat obedient, Fudge was the complete opposite. I remember crying a month after we bought him because of a phone call I received from my mom, asking me to find a home for Fudge. She was ready to give up on him. Eventually, though (and with a lot of patience), we were able to adjust to Fudge’s quirks.
His mischievous nature still has us constantly on our toes, guarding against his continued defiance at our attempts at discipline. He has not outgrown his habit of climbing up onto the dining table to steal food and play with the utensils. He insists on being fed only by hand and creates a ruckus by going to you, looking you straight in the eye and barking loudly whenever he’s hungry or thirsty. He’s our furry morning alarm clock, our monotonous doggie doorbell, and sometimes, our smelly bedmate.
We spoil him. But more than just the birthday parties with both doggie guests and their humans celebrating with KFC chicken, french fries, vanilla ice cream, treats and toys during special occasions, we spend quality time with him. Whether it’s taking lots of pictures while playing together, playing dress up, going to doggie play dates, joining contests (like the recent Philippine STAR Swatch Year of the Dog photo tilt) or even just cuddling in bed watching TV, we treat Fudge more like our baby than our pet.
My family has been doubly blessed with the gifts of Twix and Fudge. They have taught us the value of shared responsibility. They have also taught us that in their helplessness and dependence on us, we are entrusted with their care, which goes beyond providing them with food and shelter.
Through the death of Twix, we realized that although death is inevitable, it is up to us to make the most of the time we have together. Through Fudge’s life, we continue to value the joy he brings to our lives, which we try to reciprocate by giving him the same unconditional love.
Twix and Fudge have given us the opportunity to love.
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