You lived for 31 days. My dearest tiny pup, you were a fighter. I still remember when you were struggling to get out. Your mama, Emma Poppy Seeds, had pushed out three of your siblings and was feeling the strain. She didn’t have enough strength to push you out. You were an eager beaver, wanting to come out. I remember, after noticing your sac come out and retreat back in a couple of times, I decided to pull you out. And in doing so, I broke the sac that was protecting you. I got a grip of your hind leg and couldn’t let go. After the most dreadful minutes of my life, you managed to get out. You were so tiny. I will always wonder if I did wrong by pulling you out (although all literature I had read suggest pulling the pup is a good idea, because a tired dog may not be able to exert enough push).
In some ways, I thought of you as my baby. You were my favorite, you weren’t the healthiest, but you were mine. I really felt good each day that you were alive. Because somewhere deep down I knew it was a miracle you were breathing, growing alongside your stronger siblings. I do love them too, but you were my favorite.
I would like to believe that you did not suffer beyond 12 hours. Last night, when you cried out in my arms, I wish I knew better to rush you to the vet. I knew you were uncomfortable, I didn’t know you were inching closer to light.
My precious little one, I am really devastated about losing you so soon. I had secretly wished to keep you when time came to give you all for adoption. You know, I am not so sure I want to give any of you away. I love you all.
And even though you are just outside, sleeping in the garden, know this that you will always be thought of fondly.
I do feel guilty for you not being alive. Could I have gone sooner to the vet? Yes. Should I have worried more that you did not put on weight even after the visit to the vet? Yes. Was I lazy in taking care of you? Yes. Can I get you back? No.
I am told that you wouldn’t have made it anyway because you were the weakest. But, I really hoped you would. In fact, I never doubted it. I knew you were a fiery fighter. And you were a brave little one.
Thank you for cuddling with me last night. Sorry for not understanding what your constant whimpering meant. Sorry for waiting at the vet’s instead of getting you help sooner. I mean we were there and kept waiting for the doctors to settle. I wish I had not waited, you would still be alive and kicking and making those tiny noises.
Dear Amelia. Your siblings missed you today, they weren’t as playful, they knew something was off. Your mama was restless and she sure knew you were gone. She kept checking for you. And her pup count didn’t add up because she knew you were missing.
We all miss you, darling. And now when I look at all your brothers and sisters, I miss you even more. You aren’t curled up in the center. They aren’t disturbing you.
Amelia, sweetheart, rest well. And I hope in doggie heaven you find a nice spot to watch over us.
You will always be my little precious one.
#RIP Amelia (Feb 13th, 2016-Mar 16th, 2016)
(Amelia, the tiniest one, in the center. This was taken at her first vet visit on March 5th, 2016. Today, was her last visit to the vet :/)
vaishallichandra 