In memory of Ginni (05/05/2016 - 13/01/2018)

I’m very angry, I don’t want to live the rest of my life without him. Of course I can, but I don’t want to. Because I can’t scratch his chest, because I can’t walk around him when I get up in the middle of the night.

Today on my way home, I walked along the park’s sidewalk, and I felt a desire to get home and take him out for a walk. But I can’t because he’s not around anymore. When I got home he didn’t greet me, because he’s not here with us. And he’s not at the foot of my bed, nor will he be there tomorrow. I don’t think it’s fair that I have to come home every day without him being there. Because he was always very happy to see me and I was also very happy to see him every day and every time.

I have a jacket that I wore when we went to the park. I don’t wear it anymore because he’s not here and I only wear it to take my doggy out. “... doggy, come here …”, “… Ginni look…”, and he continues to walk because he decides to ignore me, and I continue to walk, and eventually he decides to come over running, and jumping, and I say “… good doggy…” but of course, he hasn’t been “that good”, and he knows it. But none the less, I pet him, and he likes it. I continue to walk with the hope that eventually he’ll learn to obey, and I feel I’m the most fortunate Master in the world because he makes me very happy.

We get home, make myself some coffee and pretend to forget about his breakfast, and he complains and says “… I’m back and I’m not getting my breakfast…”. I complain for having to take him out so early, but I’m glad to do it. My coffee is ready and I give him his breakfast. We crash exhausted. We’re happy because we’ve walked together like the best friends we are. He has a calendar; he knows that today and tomorrow it’s his master looking after him and he’ll wake up and will lick me and nudge me with his snout and he’ll touch my back with his cold nose “… dog, Ginni, you already went out, go to bed, sleep…” and I scratch his chest, he lies down on his bed and snorts.

  • … I’m Paloma from the hospital, bad news, Ginni has passed away…” and she explains some things that I don’t want to remember and she says something about arrhythmia and the stool, I-don’t-know-what? And the kidneys… I got no clue what she’s saying and “… if we what to see him…” and “… picking him up…” I don’t remember the long list of awful things she said, but I just wanted to hear Ginni and all I could hear was Paloma’s voice and “… I’m grateful ...” all I hear is her voice and I don’t hear Ginni and I won’t hear him ever again and that makes her seem distant and strange, and I need to be with him and I need to see him right now. And I’m alone in the middle of the night without my partner, I try to go to him but I can’t reach for him because he’s moved on and he’s way ahead of me.

And I finally get there just to find that he left me his body. Although he’s already left, he leaves me his last present. He knows I want to see him one last time, and I see him and he’s so beautiful and he’s covered with a blanket but that’s not his blanket but he seems so peaceful and beautiful and I hear someone say “… he’s the same, but of course, how is he not gonna look the same with his good nature?...”.

And I thank him this last detail. I said him goodbye this afternoon with a kiss and a growl, now he’s not here because he’s moved on. Darn! He died, and he was alone.

  • …Oh no, could they have given him an injection, but if he’s on the same spot where I left him this afternoon, he couldn’t have been there without moving the whole afternoon… ”.

  • … I want to see him, I want to see him, dad…

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Thank you Lucy for your help ;-) you know why

Alberto Morales Morales

Software craftsman. Passion for developing quality code that can be proud of. Happily married.

Madrid, Spain.