my beloved pooch, tiny


doesn't she have the saddest eyes?

Tiny Bubbles, my beloved pet dog, shouldn’t have died today. Had I followed my ritual of greeting my pets first thing in the morning, she would probably still be alive. She would’ve gone back to the dirty kitchen area instead of playing by the highway. But it’s Sunday and we were already running late for church. I figured I could play with them longer after mass. I was wrong.

I cried. I cried because her death was cruel in its swiftness. One minute she was happily rolling on the ground, the next she was being hit on the head by a truck. I cried because she was just six months old – too young to die. We only had her for a few months. But I cried more for myself because I know I’m going to miss her terribly.

*sigh* Why do we have the worst luck when it comes to pet dogs? :(