Writing this post is hard. I am flooded with emotions as I think of Casper, who left us on Nov 6, 2021. He was 15 human years old.
We brought him home when I was in high school and he was a 1 month-old puppy born on Oct 18, 2006. A small ball of white fur, an Indian Spitz, he was a smart, loyal dog. He was frustratingly mistaken for a pomeranian and we would make it a point to correct the offender for he belonged to a breed that is classier. I realize I sound like a dog racist but dogs cannot read yet (their owners can) and don’t take offense that easily.
My sister and I talked about him a lot in school and well through college, almost to the point of annoyance to our friends. We thought we were being entrepreneurial to have created a Facebook page for him back when it wasn’t that widespread to have Doggo social media account. He was the reason we could carry the “cool-in-high-school” badge.
Casper had a personality and a mind of his own. My interactions with him were a journey of discovering his likes and dislikes and understanding his intentions. In the first few years of this journey of Discovering Casper, I was enthralled by his magical senses. He would signal the arrival of a parent a full 10 minutes before they rang the bell. He could hear and smell the opening of a candy wrapper from two rooms away. He would know what you had in the grocery bag and there wasn’t any point in hiding. As he grew older, his ability to perceive space through its olfactory cues continued to be fascinating to watch. He was a piece of nature’s beautiful creation right in my house.
Casper taught me the joy of unconditional love. Whenever I felt lost or sad, I knew Casper wouldn’t refuse a warm touch. I knew, when I went back home, he would be waiting for me. He made me understand what a family means and does. He had opted into this family on day one and was forever committed to it.
I admired the fact that he lived his life with a purpose. I would see him strutting around the house with his head held up high for he had somewhere to be (find a pee spot, find a toy, find a human) and for he had something to do (eat, poop, pee, groom, seek attention).
Above all, he taught me the joy of living life which in his case was enjoying food and walks. He relished his juicy mangoes, raced through jackfruit pods, devoured the rare treat of boiled eggs and he wiped clean watermelon slices. Even when he could no longer walk, his enthusiasm for it didn’t die.
I miss him but I am glad he was a part of my life.
Inspired by this prompt.