"Patay na raw si Odie. Tumawag sa akin yung vet. :-(" So states the first message I read today.
Odie is our pet daschund whom Garfield bought four years ago. A few months after purchasing Odie, Garfiled moved out of the house, leaving him to our care. Such is the irony in life that a few months after Garfield moved back in, Odie then dies.
Of all the pets we've had over the years, I've been most aloof with Odie. Lacking the time and the motivation, I've never allowed myself to establish a good rapport with him. Having lost my favorite pet a few years back, I didn't want the emotional attachment to establish with this new dog. But Odie is such an endearing pet; always eager to please, always eager for company. He would always try to find an opportunity to lick your face if you're unaware, even if you don't want him to.
Odie is overwieght. For a dog his size, he weighs almost double than normal, thanks to my mom's knack for pampering pets too much. But when Odie developed an inability to finish a walk along the street and refused to go on any further, prompting anyone walking him around to just carry him back home, my mom relented and imposed a diet for Odie, involving only two meals during the day, instead of the three full meals he once enjoyed.
The last time I saw Odie over the weekend, he looked thin but healthy. I didn't realize that he was suffering from any sickness. His absence during the past few days didn't even register on me. I didn't know he was sick, until I recieved Garfield's message earlier.