What Does Dog Heaven Look Like?

Warning: emotional

I wanted it to be a happy story — as it really was, and I wanted to tell it from the beginning. I’ve already started from how I chose him, how I took him home that blessed day when he was only a month and a half old. But now I guess I’ll have to fast forward a bit to about 4 years later, the last time I ever saw him.

For us it was just one of his usual trips to the vet. He went there a lot lately because being the spoiled creature that he is, we couldn’t put meds in his ears. It’s pretty minor but he doesn’t like that. And every time we try he’d get a really angry or hide. So we had the vet folks do that. This time it was different though. He was weak and wouldn’t eat, and it seemed he couldn’t move properly. So mom and dad rushed him to the doctor and he was confined. That was last Friday, two days ago. The Saturday after was a normal day of missing him. Or so I thought. I miss him terribly every time he’s not in the house. I always wanted to pick him up and take him home even if I know I shouldn’t for his own good. It’s just that I know he doesn’t like the vet, and that he’s probably looking for his family already. So I missed him yesterday as I always do and I tried not to worry that he’s sick.

But then at around 10pm, the vet called. Why would a doctor call in the middle of the night? She explained the situation. She’s not sure if Scotch would last until the next day.

When we got to the vet, baby boy was shaking. Seizures, doc said. He’s been like that for almost an hour. A few days back, Scotch fell from the bed. He might have hit his head badly and this affected his brain. I refuse to expound on this so let me get to the point. We took him home that day, like we always do after his visits in the vet. But this time, he was sleeping peacefully in a box. When he wakes up, he will be home. Really home.

Read about: How I Met Scotch