When I arrived at the house today, my cousins, Ted, Inee and Ira was there (they were there because we were to continue the painting in the living room that we started last Sunday, which is another story for another day). Ate Inee asked me if I notice anything missing from our house. At first, I got confused with by her question because if you can see our house at this moment, it's a big mess because of the painting that we're doing, meaning, we can tend to lose things in the pile of mess that we made. Then, it hit me, I asked her, "where's Curly?". She softly laughed and told me to ask Kuya Ira to tell me the whole story behind Curly's absence.
"He was taken away to Sammamish," he said with a monotonous voice.
Dumbfounded, I looked at Ate Inee to see if he was telling the truth, "yeah, my mom gave him to this couple living in Sammamish," she said. Confusion hit me, as well as, a hundred questions I wanted to ask them and my aunt.
Why did she do that? Why didn't she tell me about it? Who was the person who adopted him? Why? Why? Why?
At first, I felt like I wanted to cry my eyes out. Then again, I thought to myself that I don't want to do that in front of my cousins. So, I toughened up and went to my room to change into my painting clothes.
While painting, this conversation happened:
Ate Inee: "So are you sad that Curly's gone?"
ME: "Sure..." (Of course, this is me trying hard to control my emotions)
Ate Inee: "I cried, Kuya Ira told me about it on the phone, and I cried."
ME: "Who took him in?"
Ate Inee: "This couple who lived in Sammamish; they own a Cheasepeake Retriever but they had to take it down because it had an illness that couldn't be cured, they wanted another one, so I think they made contact with mom"
Ate Inee: "The couple owns a 1.3 acres of land, so it's a good environment for Curly to run around"
Ate Inee: "But Mom, says it's conditional, because the couple wants to see if Curly will get along with their other dogs."
ME: "And if he doesn't get along? What will happen to him?"
Ate Inee: "I'm not sure, he'll probably go out for adoption or something"
ME: "Did Tita sell him?"
Ate Inee: "No, it was more like an adoption thing"
ME: "Wow, she didn't tell me all about that"
Ate Inee: "Well, probably she didn't want to talk about it, it was pretty hard for her to make the decision to give Curly up so.. "
ME: "I see.. "
"He was taken away to Sammamish," he said with a monotonous voice.
Dumbfounded, I looked at Ate Inee to see if he was telling the truth, "yeah, my mom gave him to this couple living in Sammamish," she said. Confusion hit me, as well as, a hundred questions I wanted to ask them and my aunt.
Why did she do that? Why didn't she tell me about it? Who was the person who adopted him? Why? Why? Why?
At first, I felt like I wanted to cry my eyes out. Then again, I thought to myself that I don't want to do that in front of my cousins. So, I toughened up and went to my room to change into my painting clothes.
While painting, this conversation happened:
Ate Inee: "So are you sad that Curly's gone?"
ME: "Sure..." (Of course, this is me trying hard to control my emotions)
Ate Inee: "I cried, Kuya Ira told me about it on the phone, and I cried."
ME: "Who took him in?"
Ate Inee: "This couple who lived in Sammamish; they own a Cheasepeake Retriever but they had to take it down because it had an illness that couldn't be cured, they wanted another one, so I think they made contact with mom"
Ate Inee: "The couple owns a 1.3 acres of land, so it's a good environment for Curly to run around"
Ate Inee: "But Mom, says it's conditional, because the couple wants to see if Curly will get along with their other dogs."
ME: "And if he doesn't get along? What will happen to him?"
Ate Inee: "I'm not sure, he'll probably go out for adoption or something"
ME: "Did Tita sell him?"
Ate Inee: "No, it was more like an adoption thing"
ME: "Wow, she didn't tell me all about that"
Ate Inee: "Well, probably she didn't want to talk about it, it was pretty hard for her to make the decision to give Curly up so.. "
ME: "I see.. "
~end of conversation~
While I was painting, I kept thinking that somehow I'm one of the reasons why my aunt wanted to take him away. The reason behind those thoughts is that I didn't play with him that much and I didn't have the patience and the determination to help her train him.
Despite my shortcomings, I love the dog, I care for him, I missed him when I was vacationing in the PI, I parade his picture all over Friendster, I always make him as one of my subjects for my photography stints and I treat him like he was my dog (hypocritical, I know).
Growing up, dogs were introduced to me as house guards or house sitters. They weren't considered as "part of the family" (here in the US, domesticated animals or any other animals that are owned are always treated like they're part of the family). Curly was the first dog that I considered as part of the family, I didn't look at him as the "house guard", instead, I treated him like he was "the brother I never had". Y'all know that when it comes to family, you become too attached and that you consider them as being there with you till the end. I got too attached to Curly. But now, that attachment was broken apart (a little bit exaggerated, I know, but I if you put yourself in my position, you'll know how it feels).
I hate emotionally-attaching myself to people or dogs or things. When I get too attached, I get too emotional and/or sentimental when they're gone.
Next time, I'll remember to not get too 'emotionally' attached to beings/things that come into my life, that way I could spare myself from the sadness or bitterness that I could feel when they're taken away from me.
It's letting go all over again and this time it's letting go of "the brother that I never had".
See you around Curly...
side note: forgive me for the run-on sentences, confusing grammar, and confusing story-telling.
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