EDITOR'S NOTE

During my time here in Thailand, I’ve had the privilege of sharing my life with two wonderful Labrador retrievers named Sissy and Nelly. They’ve been my constant companions, play-time buddies, mess makers, bed warmers and furry alarm clocks for the past four years.

My girls have made the good times here in Bangkok better and made the bad times more bearable. I’ve loved them very much, and they’ve loved me back. They’ve made my life better and fuller — which is everything you could ask from a best friend.

Unfortunately, my life became a little less full last weekend. Early Sunday morning, Sissy passed away.

She’d been sick for a few days, but after several trips to the vet and a fairly major surgery, I thought she was on the mend. We were lying together on the couch, as we often did. She was obviously not feeling well and breathing heavily after her daily trip to the doctor for intravenous drips and several injections.

She was right next to me, with me stroking her head absently, but I’m not sure how long it took me to notice that she wasn’t breathing.

I tried to give her CPR, but I knew she was gone and past any help I could give her. She fought a brave fight but was very sick, and in the end she just wasn’t strong enough to fight any more. So I let her go.

After a night of tears, lost sleep and phone calls to everybody in two mobile phones-worth of contacts, I took Sis for her last car ride the next morning. At the temple I got one last look at her face, gave her a pat on the rump and placed a few sandalwood flowers on her chest. A bored-looking attendant pushed her into the cremator with a long pole and shut the door. She was gone.

I brought her back home the next day — part of her ashes in a small blue-and-white urn and the rest in a paper bag wrapped in plastic. The temple didn’t have any containers big enough for such a large dog.

Life is filled with wonderful experiences and terrible losses. It was wonderful to share my life with Sis, and it is terrible to lose and to miss her.

At four years old, she died far too young. But during her short lifetime, she gave so much love and happiness that it’s becoming easier to forget how bad her last few days were.

I’m already finding myself thinking of her and smiling — sometimes even laughing. She was so much fun, so happy and so full of life that nearly every memory I have of her is joyful. So, even though she’s gone, she’s still making my life better and fuller.

Who could ask anything more from a best friend?

Sean Vale
Editor
seanv@bangkokpost.co.th