Conversations with Grey

Red

“Now I’m wondering whether I saved her or I killed her.”

When I woke up this morning, this wasn’t how I imagined my day would end.

Dammit. It’s days like these makes me feel that life isn’t fair. Life is driven by individuals’ desires pitted against anothers. One’s motivation to suceed, like it or not, to another’s, without mercy. It is how we survived. It is how it was in ancient times, it is how it is now, it is how it would be. Survival of the fittest. Or in modern humanity, survival or the wittest.

*

I buried many animals before. My sister’s dear Wewe, her rabbit, my pet chicken, a hit-and-run victim cat among those that I remember. Today, I buried a puppy. She was a puppy given to me by my cousin, Ms.IBM, last week. Ms.IBM found ‘Anne’ in her neighbour’s compound yapping like, well, a puppy. The muslim neighbour was extremely annoyed with Anne’s presence quickly signalled for Ms.IBM (who already has four dogs) to remove her. So Ms.IBM did and took Anne to the best place that she could think of, my dad’s factory, where I already have a bunch of kiddos around. Thinking that Anne might fit in, Ms.IBM dropped Anne off and declared that she would visit Anne whenever she was free, before dashing off to get a tetanus shot because Anne bit Ms.IBM.

You read it right, she got a tetanus shot (instead of a rabies shot). Why? You’d have to ask Ms.IBM herself. I already clarified it with her, so yea. No harm.

Anne was a fiery bitch. Literary. Although small in size, she’s not to be messed with. She looked like a shepard mix. She growls at anyone coming near her but is quickly subdued when you grab and hug her. She is pacified that way. She kept to herself mostly, and did not bother the rest of the puppies very much. Everyday last week, I had to seperate the others during feeding time because Anne will not eat with the others around.

With each day of her new presence, the other four which I adopted earlier became increasingly uncomfortable. I could tell because I notice that now and then after I have fed Anne, they would approach her and attack her. I caught them two times before, and introduced them to the rotan. What I did not realise or anticipate was that it would carry on to be more aggressive and would prove fatal, earlier this evening.

After I return from shopping today, the sun was shining as oppose to the continuous rain we had for the past few days. Thinking that it would be a good time to wash them all (they are very filthy), I got to their doghouse greeted by their wagging tails. Then I saw Anne motionless in the middle of the doghouse. I let the others out and quickly went to her. She was still breathing, slow, but with obvious puncture marks and blood all over her neck. I called my sister, asking her to come at once and wrapped Anne’s neck with a towel. Anne did not flinch. I placed her in the longish bucket I use to bathe them, and carry her out.

My sister arrived minutes later and drove me straight to find a vet. Several vets we went to were either closed or were having the problem of missing doctors. Seriously, why open the vet when you ‘don’t know where the doctor went‘. Fuck. Anne moved around with me holding her still. She tried to look to see where we were taking her. We sped off to another vet I know and as I brushed through the door, the doctor was just leaving. Quickly she told me to remove Anne from the bucket and place her on the operating table.

Examining Anne, the doctor said she was going to IV Anne with fluids to keep her strength because Anne was totally dehydrated. Then the doctor took about fifteen minutes trying to find Anne’s vein. All four of her legs, her skin, everywhere. No visible vein. Even after shaving a patch of Anne’s leg, she couldn’t find any. The places that she poked drew no blood. Anne bled dry. The puncture in her neck was made much earlier. She would have bled for hours long. Still looking for the vein and trying to blind poke, Anne suddenly breathe erratically. The doctor injected something to calm her down.

It did not help.

I asked if there was anything that can make Anne go smoother. The doctor said that she couldn’t find Anne’s vein to inject it with.

A few minutes passed. She stopped. With the stethoscope, the doctor said Anne’s heart is beating weak. I stroke Anne to comfort her.

I whispered that she has been a good little girl.

I told her to be calm.

I told her to let go.

I told her that… I was sorry.

I called my sister into the room. My sister came in and comforted Anne too. The doctor and her assistant did too. Then the doctor said Anne was no more. We were calm. The four of us talked about what happened and how I discovered Anne. The doctor then examined Anne more thoroughly to find that Anne has been bleeding internally because there weren’t much blood that bled outward. There were older puncture marks on parts of her body. She was attacked even in the earlier days.

I took Anne home.

Opposite my house, a plot of empty land where bush and wild plants thrived, I dug a grave. This plot has been the burrying grounds for many pets and animals. She won’t be lonely there. I burried Anne today. I said a prayer and wished that her soul be reborn a human as she has paid her karmic debt by suffering as an animal. I’m a buddhist.

I returned to the doghouse to clean off the traces of the blood. The others acted as if nothing happened. They did not understand it I guess. Survival of the fittest. They were just ensuring their survival, although they didn’t need to. And dogs, especially strays, are very territorial. I didn’t know how to look at them. I did not layan them at all. I sense that they felt proud and wanted my attention. I gave them none. I don’t know how to look at them after today.

*

I wore a red pants today. When I went shopping, I bought a red rug for my room. My hands were all red from Anne’s blood when I carried her to the vet. When I returned to the doghouse, it was almost dusk, and the sky was blood red. No kidding.

Ms.IBM called after she heard the news from my sister. She sounded sad, because she promised to come see Anne. She wondered if she saved Anne or killed Anne when she brought her away from the neighbour’s house. A little later, Ms.IBM messaged me.

“Thanks for trying to save her.”
.
.
.
“Yea. I’m sorry I couldn’t.”