I have a puppy .. Or maybe had… I don’t know what tense is appropriate. She came into my life when I needed her the most. I was recovering from a break up from someone who I fancied as the love of my life. It was one of those very intense relationships that leave and all your friends leave with it. I did not have a social life. I refused to take up any hobby. All I knew was work, school, home. I was so delighted to have Bugzy, a mere week old Lhasa Apso, who could only eat from a feeding bottle. I always wanted a pet but my parents saw it as an unnecessary luxury. I wanted one so bad that I could have taken in a goat and called it a pet. I even always dreamt of finding a bird that fell off its nest, so I could keep it as mine while nurturing it back to health. So it was a dream come true.

It was going so well. Bugzy was so adorable, all white, all tiny, so cute! People didn’t get the point. I could barely take care of myself, how would I feed a hungry one-month-old vulnerable puppy? Or buy meds? Or afford vet appointments. I did everything I should, or at least I tried. I spent so much time and money and read up everything I needed to know on dogs, I became a walking encyclopedia. I shopped online for clothes, toys, nappies, I was happy. I was on top of the world. And in the blink of an eye, it all changed.

My neighbours hated the dog. It was becoming a nuisance. I couldn’t get her to just shut up. She was going through what i later learnt was separation anxiety, she would thrash the house every time I left for work. I fell into a bout of depression. My dog became the enemy. I was in and out of hospitals. No one was there for the poor little creature. She became withdrawn. She lashed out. She suffered. Somewhere along the line, I stopped caring. I didn’t love any her any less, I just couldn’t love her any more than I was busy hating myself. I would sleep and feel the guilt eating me up inside. It still does. I feel so bad I had to write about how bad I feel. But she’s in a much better place now. It still hurts I had to let her go. But I’ll get over it. She will forget me. That part hurts too. That one day she won’t see my face and jump for joy… Now she is loved and kept and she will blossom. I will miss her. I will love her, still.