Chubby, In Memoriam (June 07, 2010)
Chubby, a tender cinnamon chow chow, passed away, at the animal clinic yesterday.
My gift to my wife the year I intended us to get married, chubby spent her first two years with Lilet and bonded with her like nobody ever did. As our marriage was set back by two years, when we finally did, chubby was mad as hell that she had to share her mother with a stranger. At best, I was tolerated. At worst, I was the object of directed aggression most especially when my wife wasn't looking. But for my wife and I, Chubby was the child we never had. And although we never really talked about it, not having a child was somehow made a little more bearable because we had chubby around.
I do not recall if we ever really decided on having a chow chow first, versus some other breed of dog. I was not a dog lover up until then, but my wife was. It was she who taught me that dogs are not just man's best friend, but that they were perhaps the only creatures that could love man back unconditionally. Even man will not be capable of such unconditionality. Chubby showed me how she loved my wife unconditionally, and in her last nine months, she also showed me how she could love me unconditionally as well.
My business partner in the 90's, Danny Wong, had a daughter who brought home her chow chows from the States after finishing her studies there. Eventually her chow chows had a litter and I mentioned it to Lilet. And mainly because of my personality (where I would suggest something but not do anything to fulfill it), the first litter came and went and we did not even do anything to start the process of acquiring a puppy. Sometime after, Danny again mentioned that puppies were still available, but from the new litter. I mentioned it again to Lilet and again did nothing. Eventually though, we paid a visit to Danny's daughter and saw the chow chow puppies. It was love at first sight for Lilet and Chubby! And then again, I did nothing. A few days later Lilet asked me if I had already bought the puppy, and I was devastated at my inaction so I went right away to Danny's daughter and left a check. In a couple of weeks we could already take Chubby home. As she looked like a delicate baby, we opted to buy a collapsible clothes cradle to carry her home. The cradle was probably 10-12 inches tall, which we figured was tall enough for chubby not to jump out from. So we put Chubby in the clothes cradle and she promptly jumped out. That should have set the tone for the relationship, but it took a while before we figured out that it was impossible to make Chubby do anything she didn't like.
On her first night at home as a puppy, I think she couldn't wait for Lilet to wake up so that they could have some playtime on the bed. Chubby was also immediately liked by Lilet's late dad. A few months after when he passed away, the normally boisterous puppy just sat quietly in her place like she knew that there was a death in the family. My mother passed away a year before. It was at this time that I already wanted to settle down, but again owing to my personality, I did nothing about it. Not even to talk it over with Lilet. I just had my plans, but kept it to myself. Actually while my mom was still alive, I already told her that I was getting married, but mothers usually only still see the child in their offspring and reacted that I was too young to get married. My dad, who was two feet away lambasted my mom telling her that I was long grown up. But regardless, I knew t'hat I had found the person I was going to share the rest of my life with. I already wanted to settle down with Lilet. I just didn't know how to tell her. Business was down. All our projects crashed after the financial crisis of 1997. My mom had a massive and debilitating stroke that she didn't seem to want to recover from. Lilet's dad was also weakened by a stroke.
On hindsight, when money matters start going south, do not defer your plans. Push through as you intended, and then struggle together through the muck. I chose to do it alone, and it came to a point where I almost drowned in the muck, alone. Although we were already married, I was, for the most part, an absentee husband. Chubby, our daughter, filled the void and kept my wife happy.
As I loved photography, Chubby was always one of the subjects I regularly attempted to photograph. During her first few weeks, I took what would be one of my most iconic images; Chubby being carried and cradled by the loving hands of my wife. This image now adorns my professional calling card, and is the only photograph displayed at home. Over the next couple of years, each time I would come over to Chubby with a camera, she would turn around and let her butt face me. Each and every time. Eventually though Chubby would allow me to photograph her face.
Chubby was a gentle dog. She never knocked over anything, preferring to just gently slide beside you, or walk around things that stood in her way. She also loved to smell flowers, and occasionally, chew on leaves whenever she had indigestion. She loved the walks Lilet and I would take her whenever we could spirit her out of the condo to the academic oval of UP. Although those walks were too few and too far between, she would look forward to them. Chubby looked forward to them so much that she would actually sit in front of the door for weeks on end, just waiting for us to bring her out. And it pained me so much to see her like that. Although it was meant to be a treat, treats can still feel cruel when you see the effects it has when it is witheld. I could not stand seeing how she waited, and waited. Eventually it was UP who made the decision for us. They decided to ban dogs being taken for a walk.
My wife loved to cook for me. And whenever she had the time to do so, Chubby would sit in the kitchen for hours just keeping her company. Occasionally when Chubby would be left in the room with me while she cooked, she would stand patiently by the door, until it opened. If it took longer than 30 minutes, she would sit down, still in front of the door, and wait for my wife to open it for her. It really was unconditional love.
Eventually when we moved to the condo, Chubby immediately took to the balcony where she could view her kingdom from the elevated vantage point that royalty deserved. The balcony provided the perfect place for her to spend the day, in the shade, while waiting for her parents to come home. During one of my wife's trips to the States, I planted a herb garden for both of them by the balcony and it had basil, tarragon, and rosemary. Chubby found it the following morning, and beat my wife to it. She ate most of the leaves in the course of a week and all the plants died. I never had a green thumb but I kept planting (transplanting actually, as I would buy the plants all prepped up) and planting just so Chubby will have something to chew on when the urge arises. And the urge was usually connected to indigestion more than anything else.
As my wife's trips were getting more and more frequent, I became Chubby's de facto parent more and more of the time. Picking up poo was never my strong point, but it was something I had to do starting in late 2006. I never liked doing it but during the first time I had to do it in 2006 my wife said, “eh sino ang dadampot niyan?” Afterwards, each and every day I would pick up after Chubby and vomit during the process. But taking a passage from Calvin and Hobbes comic strip, Calvin's dad would usually say that “it helps build character”. So, each time I had to pick it up, I knew that I could change a baby's diaper when our baby would finally come. Chubby's poo helped build my character. Of course I never told my wife that. She would just hear me vomit some more and probably think that I hated doing what I had to do.
Chubby also taught me to cook. My wife will probably not have any idea about my culinary repertoire but having to prepare Chubby's meat treat every 4 days also forced me to cook for myself. During Chubby's last 10 days, I boiled beef short ribs, boiled a chicken leg, boiled a chicken thigh, sauteed beef strips, and panfried wagyu steak with olive oil, a little salt, and pepper. She loved the wagyu, and most everything else I cooked for her. The ref is still full of those because she progressively ate less and less. Each time she would eat less, I would cook up something that was better than the previous meal, but her condition was getting worse. There is still a quarter kilo of ground beef I bought sunday morning that I haven't cooked for her yet.. Chubby's unconditional love for my wife taught me to give Chubby my unconditional love as well.
During the past 9 months, I have been Chubby's only parent for 6 of those 9 months. Each day I had to come home regardless if my project was in Lucena Quezon, or Pampanga. I had to come home to make sure that she had very cold drinking water (purified, of course), and fresh warm food. Everyday. When there was a time that I was contemplating something that should not be contemplated, the only thing that stopped me was the knowledge that nobody would be there to take care of my baby, my child, my Chubby. For the last 9 months, Chubby became my reason for being, my reason for living. And I again became a much stronger person because of her.
During her last 9 days, I would actually cry out for my wife to suddenly come home back to Manila, because Chubby was not eating anymore. I knew, I hoped that my wife would be the only person in the world capable of force-feeding Chubby. I knew Chubby would only trust my wife to do something she does not like to do, but has to be done. I cried for my wife to suddenly come home because I could not anymore handle taking care of Chubby, and I knew that eventually it may be a matter of life or death. If Chubby will not want to do something, only my wife will have her trust to get her to change her mind. But my wife will not be able to come home just like that, so I took to 2-hour hand-feeding sessions with Chubby. When she got worse, I tried force-feeding her. By now, Chubby was trusting me to touch her around and below the mouth. 2 hours of hand-feeding and she would not even take a bite. Oh she did, thursday evening, eating portions of Andok's fried chicken, meat part, no skin, no spices. But she did it grudgingly. It was the last thing she ate. And she threw everything up at the balcony later. Friday morning, she was again looking for leaves to chew and I helped her to the sili plant leaves. I had tried three times in the past 10 days to raise monggo shoots for her, but the seeds were always eaten by the birds before they could grow.
2 days into her LBM, desperate at not finding her doctor's contact number, I went to Animal House in Wilson, to ask them to send a vet to check up on Chubby. They refused, as a matter of policy. It came to a point where I was already speaking in a threatening tone, but to no avail. I went home to Chubby, and found a fresh stool sample which I promptly brought to them for laboratory analysis. It was positive only for the ordinary bacteria, but negative for anything else. So they prescribed an electrolyte formula for rehydration, and an antibiotic. The rehydration was very helpful and she showed near-immediate recovery. However, the banana-flavored antibiotic was a little more tricky, as the taste of her food was more savory than sweet. She eventually became weaker, manifesting in the lack of strength in her rear knees, which slowly took away her ability to stand up, on her own. She was strong enough to walk around, provided she could stand. One time early on her sickness, as she was lying down I mopped the area around her when she decided to stand up. Her rear legs gave way as she couldn't get any traction from the newly mopped wet floor, and she gave out a weak cry of pain. I cried, thinking that my Chubby had hip dysplasia... this was a medical condition that usually affected big dogs which Lilet and I had been very scared of. So, I decided to put floor mats underneath her just so she would have increased traction, but it didn't work. She would also slip on the floor mats as the tiles didn't provide adequate friction at all.
The following day, I came home at 7pm to a very quiet house. I looked for Chubby in the sala, then in the balcony, then in the guest room, then in the kitchen. I could not find her. I looked in the last place I thought of, her bathroom. And there she was, trapped in the shower area, unable to stand because of the slippery floor after she did her business. I cried as I was cleaning her with paper towels. She was a very proud dog, and she would never let me handle her feet, her rear end, unless she knew she had no choice. I was crying as I was cleaning her because I knew that her non-refusal meant she knew she had no other choice. I cleaned her up as best I could and then we settled down to sleep. I knew that while she was sick, her sickness would be made more bearable if her surroundings were more comfortable. And while smack in the middle of the hottest summer in our lifetime, I turned on the airconditioner in the sala for her. She loved it.
That evening, she really felt very uncomfortable and spent the night trying to move around our room. Each time she wanted to move around, I would wake up, help lift her rear legs from a belt I used as a loose rear harness, and she would change positions. A few minutes after, she would bark again, and the process was repeated throughout the night.
The following morning, I spent 4 hours grooming and brushing her. 4 hours. She never lets me brush her longer than a few minutes, but that day, she just sat there while I brushed her. I even was able to brush her below her chin. And that was a near-impossible thing to do with chubby. She loved the attention. So I tried snipping off a few strands from her rear paws, to increase her traction. She let me take one snip, then let me know that that was the last snip. I also wiped away the stye on her eye that she routinely got, but it stuck to her eyelids, so I had to wait till she brushed it off before I could wipe it away. So I went back to rubbing her head and giving her a little massage. I figured out that if I could give her increased rear leg traction, then she would be halfway to recovery. The following day she did her business a few feet away from her bathroom, not even strong enough to avoid slipping on her pee. And she let me clean her again with paper towels. So, I resolved that maybe if I could find a way so that her pee doesn't cause her to slip, then her condition will not be aggravated anymore. So I decided to find dog diapers. I ended up with adult diapers which I bought sunday but never had a chance to use. I bought them after buying a second bottle of rehydration formula. I also bought her the most expensive can of dog food which was purposely designed to induce appetite for sick or recovering dogs. I opened it, left it in front of Chubby, then attempted to hand-feed it after 10 minutes. She still refused. It was around that point that I was informed where to look for her medical records. I immediately called up her vet and consulted on hospitalization, which I intended for the following day. I made a second call within one minute to ask if they had a doctor available to examine chubby and they sent one right away. The doctor advised immediate confinement, and the dreaded dog cage was brought up. While chubby was being put in the cage, the toenail in her right paw snagged and I attempted to free her paw. She hated anyone touching her paws, even if it was Lilet, so she let me know it. But I persisted, and she went for my right hand. She actually lunged at my pulse, as that would have stopped me from handling her paw. She hit me strait, but got my watch and just nicked my pulse. No skin break. I would not have taken it against her even if she bit me 10 times that day. Once she was inside the cage, I spent a minute comforting her, telling her that she needed to go to the hospital in order to get better. She was carried off by the vet and his handler. I slept uneasily that night but looked forward to paying her a visit monday afternoon at the hospital. I was expecting that she would have responded to the medication by then. But before I could leave the house, I was informed that “Chubby already expired..”.
I went to the hospital, with the heaviest of hearts. The doctor talked to me and explained what had happened. I sat in a daze for over an hour, then slowly made my way back home, to an empty home. I took off the watch I was wearing and noticed that it was much looser than usual. I took a closer look and found the clasp damaged by chubby's last bite. I was pained that Chubby's last memory of me was that she had to bite me to stop me from getting her paws into the cage. I hope she remembers the minute I spent telling her that the trip to the hospital was necessary. She will probably have wanted to have passed away quietly in our arms. But I stubbornly refused to believe that day will eventually come.
Death in the family is something that is difficult to comprehend. And no amount of practice will ever get you fully prepared for the moment. Chubby's death is made even more painful as the parents will be mourning from separate places in the world. I, in our home, and lilet, in the States. The acceptance of her passing will have been made easier had we been together when it happened.
To my dear beloved Chubby, and my dear beloved wife, I apologize for not fully showing my unconditional love, everyday of my life. I can only promise to show it more, in my remaining days. And to both of you, my only family in the world, I dedicate the song “Loving You” by Holly Cole.
And to the rest of the world, if this memoriam to Chubby has touched you in any way, please leave a message. It will help us in our hour of grief.
Unconditionally loving,
Paul Yan
ps. I have decided to go on a fast since I received news of Chubby's passing. I will only take water, like what she did in her last 48 hours with me. It will only be broken after she has been lain to rest.
