A Dog on the Catwalk

Standing on my tippy toes, I could barely see through the crowds gathered to watch the fashion parade.  That’s what you get for being a shorty.

And this is not the event you’d wear high heels for.  The Rand Easter Show is not one you strut around on high heels unless you have someone to tend your blisters at the end of a long day.

The models are from all walks of life – tall and slender, short and bulky, young and old.  Hair styles varied from short and sleek to dreadlock-like manes.  An assortment of outfits by professional and amateur designers is on show.

I’d seen enough and decided to leave, but that’s when it caught my eye, those facial features that I fell in love with three years earlier.  A broad forehead.  Prominent, large brown eyes.  High-set cheekbones on a wide, square face and a big nose with a flattened side profile.

I just had to meet the model, so I made my way through the crowds to the backstage area, and there he was, eager to please all his fans. 

When I was introduced to Spotnick, the Pekingese puppy, his handler informed me that he is owners no longer wanted him because he does not get along with the other dogs in the family.  He was three months old at the time.

I took him into my arms and immediately realised that this puppy was very sick.  He struggled to breathe, and his eyes were covered with a yellow discharge.

Although squint, he looked at me in anticipation as if to say Please help me.  This is precisely what I did.
Today, almost 12 years later, he once again gave me that look.  All I could do was hold him tight and tell him how much I loved him.  As his pain faded, it felt like my heart was torn into pieces.
Figlio, as we renamed him after adopting him, was freed from pain and suffering this morning at 7.05am.  He was my third Pekingese and the first boy in our household.

I will remember Figlio for his squint puppy eyes.  For kissing my feet at bedtime.  For his tail that curled like a piggy’s at the very tip.  For allowing Nadezhda the Labrador to carry him around by the tail.  For always being the one that would find the smallest hole in the fence to crawl through and visit the neighbours.

For the rest of my life, I will miss giving him the first bite of my coffee-dipped rusk in the morning.  I will miss his half-bark half-howl at feeding time.  For the rest of my life, I will think of Figlio daily, as I do about his sisters and brother who have gone before him.

This doggy on the catwalk stole my heart, and today a piece of my heart died with him.

Rest in peace, my boy.