Oh my goodness! Tears welled to my eyes as I read through the last few chapters of Marley and me written by John Grogan. Marley and me talks about a heartwarming and unforgettable story of a family in the making and the wonderously neurotic dog who taught them (the author's family) what really mattered in life.
As I read through the initial chapters, the antics displayed by Marley (a laborador retriever) never failed to tickle me as I recalled how Rusty used to do that too. Rusty, a wired-hair terrier, brought back by my dad from SPCA when she was 1 years (1988). Always being in the middle of way, enjoying tummy rides, loves rubbing her snout into my tummy, rolling on her back as she attempts to soothe an itch. As the author, John Grogan, approached towards the final few chapters of the book and talking about the inevitable time of life where all good things must come to an end, the feelings that he described seem to describe how I felt when Rusty began to become slower in her actions, selectively hearing and responsiveness, having cataracts in both eyes and knocking into things. I vividly remember when mum would be lying on the floor watching telly and Rusty would attempt to jump over the wall of tummy which often end up in mum screaming due to Rusty's misjudgement - scrambled over mum's tummy.
John describes the pain that he had to go through with the decision of having to put Marley to sleep. Indeed, my family went through the same decision when Rusty went to dog heaven (as my brother puts it) on 17th June 2003. Rusty has always been well, only having occassional poor appetites, which always went away after a walk. She suffered from epilepsy and I had witnessed the entire incident without being able to help her. After that bout of epilepsy, her world crashed and she was no longer able to hear, see and walk properly. It was like her senses were all wrong. She wondered round the house in a drunken stupor, entering rooms when she was previously barred. She needed 24-hour guardian as advised by the vet. That night, my sis and I keep vigil over her side and I sang songs to calm her down. The next day, she suffered from another episode of epilepsy and we rushed her down to the vet. Moreover, my sis received a phonecall from the vet informing her that Rusty is suffering from acute renal failure.
When Rusty's 7years (dog years) and I'm 10..
What could be worst? Its like witnessing someone close to you, losing their life away. At the vet, he offered us 2 options of which, one was to put her to sleep to end her suffering, which was the most humane thing to do. My dad made the decision for Rusty to be put down. I recall hugging and carrying her in the taxi, comforting her that she'll be fine. That day, we left the house with Rusty and returned home with her collar. Sleep came to me fitfully for the next couple of nights as I fought to remember as much detail as I can. Seeing her pictures were difficult as tears would start falling. Her presence lingered in the house for such a time when no traces of her fur could be found.
Adapting to life without Rusty was difficult - no more barking, no brown shadow following me around, bad breath in my face because of an impending storm (Rusty's scared of thunder - similiar to Marley), no more tummy rubs, no more fur stuck to clothes / school books. With only memories left of her, she has taught me life's little lessons during my childhood and adolescence days. Rusty, I missed you!
When Rusty's 15. See how much she has aged? With white outline and cataracts in her eyes.
See how she loves to lie in the middle of the road
And keeping a watchful eye on the door
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