Unlike many others, I didn't place value on him at the time. I was scared of what I loved, I pushed him away so many times because I didn't appreciate him sniffing or licking me, and still yet, his departure hit me so hard that I never saw it coming.
I could still remember the very first day I laid my eyes on him, he was a cute little thing but a little aggressive, I bet that was where my fear came from. No, I doubt it, I've always been scared of animals since the day I was hunted by a fowl, as funny as it sounds, that was where my real fear started. Back to the story, We had just concluded a session when I returned home from boarding school for the holidays. The next day was when Dad brought him to us, we've had others before him though but they were my elder brother's pets and he was to be added to the list.Thinking about it now, at the time I was asked to give him a name, “Funda” was my first choice, I thought it was because of his cuteness but now I knew it was far more.
Funda was a special dog, I wouldn't call him Friend because I didn't give that room for a playmate. I remembered how he would always stare at me from a distance whenever I pushed him away. I also remember the looks on his face the moment he saw his meal.
Oh! Funda was the only dog among my brother's pets who listened to me despite my harshness. He wouldn't mess his cage nor would he accept food from strangers, he was protective and submissive to his owner. I watched him grow, and I remembered the last day I saw him. When things went south for my family and me, Funda was affected. We could barely feed how much more to our dogs. My dad sold the rest and left him, I guess I wasn't the only one who loved him even though I discovered Mine too late. He felt ill so sick and Dad had to call the doctor who took him away. A few months down the road we heard he was gone.
Typing these is like opening old wounds of guilt and hurt. My grandmother died around the period we got the news of Funda's death, I didn't remember mourning for her as I did for Funda, I feel a lot guilty for saying that though but it was my mom's words to me. No one imagined I could cry for a dog I never liked. Never liked I say? That was what I thought too, I was a terrible owner even if not directly, I paid more attention to him than any other dog and I didn't love him to the fullest before he left this world.
Fundas's story is one that I've written before now and this year made it six years since his death. I developed a little phobia for dogs along the line but it's less of fear and more from my experience with funds. But still, for his sake, I considered working on my mind and if possible getting myself another someday if that happens, his name would still be called “Funda” and I hope it would be a blessing to the memory of my departed dog Funda.
Photo Credit Is Mine
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