I hated her the first time we brought her home. I resented the fact that my family still wanted her despite my allergic reactions to fur. I did not go anywhere near her, nor give her the warm welcome she truly deserves. I ignored her for two whole weeks and did not acknowledge her presence although she craved attention- she was barely 3 months old at that time. Before we brought her home, there was one thing I did- I named her Chloe. My brother wanted something cooler but no, we settled for Chloe. On that Wednesday, she was brought home, shivering from fear and the car ride. I glared at her.
The first time I held her was when I brought her into the house, from the balcony, away from the raging thunder and storm at 2 a.m. That night, I lay awake, listening to the strong winds. My emotions overruled my pride and I went out, held her in my arms and brought her in. I stayed up with her curled in my lap until the rain was over. She licked me continuosly throughout the two hours I stayed up for her. Back then, she was smaller than my size 7 feet. She still had baby fat, she was round and chubby.
She grew up fast. I remembered her first injection. She cried so loud I ended up tearing as well. She was so grand that she only slept on soft materials- like silk carpets. She still did. I got over my fear of allergies and started to grow fond of her.
She was stubborn. Playful. Affectionate. Persistent. Unladylike. Needy. She loved biting our socks and "killing" it. She loved chasing us around and got so mad when she could not keep up with us. She would bark the whole night if that was what it'll take for us to let her into the house. She would bark at my maid if her meal wasn't served at 12 noon sharp. Yet, she had the posture and grace of a good breed. She's not easy to win over, either. She'd only wag her bushy tail when she wants something. No matter how many times we scolded her, she never did stop licking us affectionately.
And then it happened. On the 2nd of June, she had fits. We were terrified. We thought it was due to exhaustion of travelling in the car for 2 hours. That she had nausea. But it happened again the next day. I was home without my dad, who tended to her the day before. I did not know what to do. I did exactly as my dad did the day before in trying to help her cope with her fits.
Slightly before 7 a.m. today, I was woken up with the words "Chloe sudah mati." I sprang out of bed and sure enough, I went out to see her lifeless body. Stiff. I howled in pain and sadness. She had so selfishly left without saying goodbye. I could not believe it. I called out her name multiple times. Her eyes were still open. But void of any life. I ran to my parents bedroom and cried uncontrollably while I struggled to wake them up and tell them what happened.
In all 18 years of my life, this was the second time I saw my mother crying. I will never understand the pain she had to go through when she wrapped Chloe's body in her blanket and placed her into the box.
She was the last among her 5 siblings to enter this world. But she was the first to leave. We brought her home in a green and white box. She left us through that same box.
In loving memory of Chloe: July 2008- 4th June 2009
