On September 23rd, I got a phone call from my mother telling me that Jasper, our dog, was gone. My breathing stopped for a few seconds and I had to ask my mother to repeat what she said. He’s gone.
Tears just fell endlessly from my eyes, and I was so choked up with sobs because I just couldn’t accept the fact that he was gone. He’s really gone. Our black bundle of joy is gone.
We welcomed Jasper to our family when he was only 4-months-old. He didn’t grow up close to his mother; his siblings would fight him off for milk, so he grew up with human’s touch. Jasper loved being touched. Being hosed down with water is his favorite thing. He loved making noises using his metal water bowl. He loved playing with Booboo’s toys.
The best thing about him was that he was a fighter. Jasper was diagnosed with ‘heartworm’ when he was younger. Dogs with heartworms can only live up to 2-years. He beat all the odds and lived 6 years more. Our Jasper even had kidney stones and went through surgery. Our boy was a fighter. He didn’t give up, so how could we?
During his last day, my sister, who took care of him the most, was with him. On their way to the vet to confine him, he started to convulse. That was it. It was too devastating for all of us. We lost Jasper, a part of our family. Until now, it still hurts. It is painfully quiet at home without his loud barks.
It is too painful to see a huge cage, with empty food and water bowls, and a collar without a dog, but I am just glad that he’s not in pain anymore. He’s in dog heaven.