Dear Max,

It has been 3 months since you left us. I still cannot think about you without crying my eyes out. It hurts so much, to have lost you. I know that you were an old dog, and that you had slowed down considerably. With all your health issues along the way, it shouldn’t have been a surprise that you deteriorated so quickly. Dr Alice did caution, before your eye surgery, that the procedure could worsen your renal disease. But my heart cannot grapple with all that knowledge. I’m not exactly sure of the reason why, but losing you so shortly after losing Brady, or not having another dog around to care for, or just the truth that I loved you the most, could perhaps explain the depth of my sadness.

To me, you were, and will always be, the most perfect & precious being. Maybe I’ve put you on a pedestal or made you singularly the most important thing in my life, therefore without you, I am lost. It is as if all the colour in my life has drained, or a vital organ has been cut out from me. It has been extremely difficult to feel any semblance of joy or sincere laughter without being tainted by grief. Right now, it feels like a slow return to normalcy, adapting to a routine where you no longer exist. But there’s a numbness that accompanies this.

I think I also carry the guilt and shame from my decision to euthanise you. Was it too hasty? Did I not try hard enough? It felt like you wanted to fight to stay on, or that you weren’t ready to let go. Should I have gone down the route of palliative care? I’m sorry, if I made the wrong choice, or if I couldn’t tell what you wanted. All I knew was that you appeared to be in pain, and that you had trouble eating the special diet. When we fed you the stuff you liked, it ended up hurting you. I would never want you to have to waste away, or prolong your suffering. That way of dying would’ve been a slow and inevitably traumatic process. Helping you to let go, seemed, to me, to be the most humane & loving act, and it did feel very peaceful.

Oh Max, my dear maxiboy, my handsome almond, I miss you so much; I miss your smell, kissing your head, caressing your back, the way you curled up when you slept, your nubby little tail, I wish I could just hold you again. You were my first love, my soul, my happiness. Thank you for coming into our lives and for being part of the family. There’s a cavity in my chest in the shape of you, and I don’t think it will ever be replaced. 

I hope that you have been reunited with Brady, and that one day, when it is my turn, I will see you boys, and be able to hold you in my arms again. Till then, I will keep you both as close as possible in my heart. I love you, I love you, I love you.

Dear Brady, I'm sorry. 

Sorry that I didn't make it back in time to hold you alive. Sorry that I had no idea that Sunday was our last farewell, when you peeked out of the car window and stared at me with your usual longing eyes (oh, those woeful eyes!). Sorry if I made you seem like you were second-fiddle to Max. Sorry if I didn't pay you enough attention because of Max's recent health issues. 

I hope you know that you were the best derpy dog and most faithful companion in our household. I hope you know that we all cared so much for you - Dad always praised you for being a really hardworking watch-dog, barking at any stranger that came close to the house, despite your diminutive size. I hope that you led a full and meaningful life; I've only ever wanted what was best for you.

I'm still partly in shock at your passing, because you had no ailments, and you went so quickly and so suddenly. Maybe you went to the porch because you were waiting for me, or maybe you had no idea what was happening to you. Our only comfort is that you didn't suffer for too long, and you went to sniff Max in the morning, as if you had bade him farewell. Perhaps it is a blessing that you left before Max, since you would probably be heart-broken if it was the other way. I've always liked that you were such an easy dog to care for (although it was odd that you never paid much heed to food or toys). Sure, you were fierce and could be needy at times, but you were never too stubborn or dominant, and all you had wanted was attention and gentle strokes. I was certain that we'd have a few more years together, but life is fragile, and proved me wrong. 

Go into the light, my sweet little furry monster, I miss you so so much...

When I first heard from the specialist that there was nothing further that could be done to save your eyes, I felt stumped. When the vet said that she wasn't confident of going through with the surgery, and that you could possibly go into renal failure a week or months down the road, I broke. 

In bed, my tummy full of chips’n’ghurt.

Feeling quite sentimental now... imagining you deep in sleep, wheezing, looking so serene. It’s probably the same look I see lying next to you. Sometimes as I awake, I open my eyes slowly to peek at your face – tracing your jawline, the flaws on your skin, the way your eyelids close. I love how you can exude both shyness and seriousness, how one minute you can be so tender with your affection, and the next, a wild lover. Sometimes I think of you and I can hardly breathe. Yet, loving you has been simply effortless. It still surprises me that I can always be so utterly myself around you. This is the dream... our friendship, love-ship, laugh-ship, cuddle-ship, I couldn’t ask for more. You make me want to be the best version of myself every single day. Goodnight, with lots of love.

Sometimes I need a moment, space, to process my emotions. Like this morning, when I had to stand in the toilet cubicle just to breathe. It’s weird; these feelings. I understand physical attraction, had crushes and definitely been “in love” before, but this is so different. Is it age? Is it lived experience? There’s no butterflies in my stomach but my heart does swell. There’s no emotional tussle but a sense of calm bliss. I’d describe it as feeling safe, connected and ‘floaty’. I find myself yearning for you, to see you, to hold you, to kiss you, to say so much and nothing at all. And then it embarrasses me. But also, I want to grab every stranger and convey my truth. I guess this is what it’s like when it feels so right and it is right (if that even makes sense).

I scribbled down the stuff that negatively affected me in my course of working and studying for a law degree. I was so upset each time and it really chipped away at my well-being. I think I'm better at managing stress these days but it's a good reminder of all the horrible things I had to endure for a piece of paper.

Having to skip dinner or go for fast food just because it was more convenient.

The rushing.

Missing out on weddings, birthdays, gatherings.

Being exhausted on a constant basis.

Having multiple mouth ulcers every time I got stressed or didn't catch enough sleep.

Missing my alarm and being late for work because I didn't have enough sleep.

Not being able to plan holidays or having to compromise because of clashes with my timetable.

Shelling out few hundred dollars per month and thousands for the exams. Easily one f my biggest expenditure over the past few years.

Feeling miserable studying alone on so many occasions and having to sacrifice my weekends. Oh, the self-loathing!

Not spending enough time with my dogs and family.

I'm sitting here on the beach in front of Moomba restaurant surveying my surroundings. It's not the prettiest beach in the world but there's hardly other guests around and the sound of the waves are immensely calming. The fog from the mountains overlooking the property mixed with the eery mist from the sea creates a setting so peaceful it's emotional. This resort is just phenomenal.

But more importantly this trip has far exceeded my expectations. It is so true that great company is all you need. The pranks we played on one another, whether it was hiding personal property or dunking a person into the pool, the 冷笑话 worthy of shivers, the delicious Hue food that should be more renowned, the birthday surprises complete with cliché rose petals and tealight candles, the sports competitions we inadvertently set up, the care & concern shown, the generosity and compromise afforded... and so many more moments (forgotten as soon as they happen). If sisterhood can be defined by a shared experience, then it is exemplified by the bonds we build as fellow women over incessant laughter, tears of disappointment and wretched pain.

I am rebirthed, renewed and raring to go.