Tommy was our very first adopted dog - a cross between a Bedlington and, I think, a poodle. We found him in one of those online classified ads. He was such a sweetie when we first met him. He had a giant of a Dalmatian for a brother in his previous family. Why would you be giving Tommy up if he's such a sweetie, we asked out of curiosity.
"Oh, the Dalmatian is very territorial and has been terrorizing poor Tommy."
Fair enough an answer - I know Dalmatians can be terrors, and they might very well have been inaccurately portrayed in the movies.
We brought Tommy home sometime in June 2000 - two months before he died, and three months before I first met and fell in love with Piper.
Barely a month after Tommy came home with us, he started sneezing blood. Horrified, we rushed him to the vet, only to find out Tommy suffered from cancer, and it was too late for any cure, if there was. Extremely displeased with the vet then for not trying harder to save Tommy, we got even angrier with Tommy's previous human because everything started falling into place.
Tommy was probably given up by his previous 'family' after he had been diagnosed with cancer.
Our doubts were further confirmed, when we called Tommy's previous human to ask if she knew about his condition, and all we got as a reply was nonchalence. "Oh. Really?"
Bitch.
We did not put Tommy to sleep immediately, contrary to the vet's recommendation. Save for the few occasions where he seemed in great pain sneezing out enormous amounts of blood from his nose, he looked like a happy dog to his new mommy and daddy. He seemed like he never had experienced such great love and fun in his short life.
I knew that if Tommy was still a happy dog, then it wasn't his time to go yet. Dogs will know when they are going, and when I see it, I will know it.
*
Tommy and I had a love-hate relationship from the start - I loving him and he hating me. Right from the day I brought him home, when I tried to force him into a carry-pen, he started disliking me - the horrible human who took him away from his 'home' and even tried to encage him.
He quickly formed a bond with the man, and kept his distance away from me. He guarded the doorway of the men's toilet as the man was taking a crap inside. He always sat himself strategically between the man and I, and growled and snarled at me everytime I tried to get close to the man.
Only the man knew how sad I was by the behavior of the dog I loved.
One day, Tommy ran berserk and started attacking me. He lunged at me and sunk his teeth into my arm, not letting go even while others tried to pull him off me.
I cried and cried and cried. Not so much because of the pain, but because Tommy hated me that much.
Strangely, after the incident, Tommy took an 180-degree turn in his attitude towards me. I am not sure if it was guilt or anything else, but suddenly, Tommy had two owners - Mommy and Daddy.
It was probably a good self-sacrifice on my part.
*
In the next few weeks that followed, Tommy would suffer a few more relapses of the blood-sneezes. He would look like he was in great suffering as he shook and trembled everytime he had to sneeze hard. It pained his mommy and daddy a great deal everytime they waited by the roadside for a kind cabby who would take a bloody dog in his vehicle.
Soon, Tommy started losing energy, and began looking more and more tired everyday. He no longer had the mood nor passion for play. He would lie down quietly on the floor for the entire day, and if you looked carefully, you could see the pain in his eyes.
The tumor in his nose had engorged to the point where one side of his lovely face became swollen and distorted. I noticed it one day when I realized I could hardly see his eye on that side of his face.
Tommy seemed like he was trying hard to keep his smiling face, like he usually did, while forcing his eye open to look at me. You'd never imagine the pain in my heart as I looked into his face that day.
I knew it was time to let him go.
He was smiling on the way to the vet, on the very day his mommy and daddy decided to let him go.
I have never let anyone go in such a pained way my entire life. I almost didn't want to believe Tommy wanted us to let him go.
I am very sorry, Tommy, if Mommy had let you go when you didn't think Mommy would.
Your mommy hasn't learnt to accept letting go. It still pains her deeply.
Maybe you weren't meant to be let go. Maybe Mommy shouldn't have given up on you when you still had the faith for life.
A while ago, I decided to use 'Tommie' as my name when I was introduced to a new friend.
Some time later, I decided to confess and offer my real name instead. To my surprise, she said, "Oh I thought 'Tommie' was unique for a girl and I really thought it suited you just fine."
Tommy, if you would allow, Mommy would like to adopt your name as part of her being.
This way, Mommy would never have to let you go again.
I love you always, Tommy.
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