March - The Story Of My Dog

My dog is very old, 16 years. Nearly 16 years ago, I walked along a street in Tossa, and paused in front of a pet shop where, in a small cage, was a pair of eyes, the saddest I have even seen, of a little Yorkie, so tiny he looked more like a bat than a dog. He looking at me with such intensity as if saying, I was quite sure, that he wished to be with me. I bought it.

Till then I knew nothing at all of dogs. Nor how to look after them. Never knew then that he was the one that looked after me since, for close to 16 years. Now I know almost everything there is to know about dogs, not just about March, my Yorkie. It was March you see when he became my family.

I honestly think nobody has ever loved me as much as he does. Everything I do, every little and ordinary thing I do, like eating at the table, or watching TV, there's March looking up at me with such adoration in his face, as if saying "How well you chewed your food" or " How contented you look when you watch TV". Crazy little dog, it never seems to occur to him that whether I enjoy doing those or not they are just things I do. He follows me everywhere as if his life and existence depended on it.

The days when I am sad about something, March knows always, perhaps even before I do. He would sit very close to me, and offers me his paw for no other reason just to let me know he understands. There had been days when I am in a bad mood, I would yell at him to leave me alone, not run around my feet tripping me over occasionally. He knows too I didn't mean to yell, for he always assume all my unhappiness are his fault, and he looks guilty, drops his head and lies quietly by my feet, but taking care not to touch me with his paw too soon, until I reach out to pat him on the head, or a little scratch under his chin ... then his eyes immediately light up, tail wagging at full speed, and sometimes utters a couple of soft squeaks to thank me for whatever it was that 'He' had made me unhappy. My poor March, it was never his fault. He had given me unconditional love and the warmest and the most devoted companionship.

But he is getting very old now. He began to walk much slower, and his enthusiasm for long walks and playful games is notably less. He knows it too, but takes it as a matter of course, When he has bad enough walk, he would slow down his pace at first, and if I don't pay him any heed and continues for more than a few minutes, he would just stop and looking at me saying with his eyes that "That's it. No more today." Or he would simply turn round and start walking back so I have to follow him!

I realize now that dogs accept their old age perhaps better than most people, settle better for slower pace of life still keeping their dignity. When he knocks down something, he doesn't look as guilty as when he was young, he would just look at me seeming saying "what do you expect? I am old." I sometimes have to clean up after him now, as he has become nearly blind, obviously a little deaf too, and occasionally incontinent. He still knows when I am sad or in a bad mood, and still sits close to me to comfort me. But I go to him more often now as in the beginnign when he was like my shadow, now I am his. My lovely companion is old and it's my duty now to look after him and comfort him.

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