Pipo left my side. She went to God's arms, and ran to play with her brother Pocky. At least, she left me comforted by leaving with her eyes closed. I wonder if it was in contentment, relief, or that of longing?

It is extremely paralyzing to bury your dead pet in the middle of the night, where the rain has just stopped, the earth is damp, and your heart feels so sad it could fall apart anytime. As I rubbed bathing powder on her, feeling her soft clean fur, my tear droplets fell silently on her cheek. And more water droplets soaked into the delicate kitchen paper I lay her on. Will she know of my grief and yearning? I picked out 3 milk biscuits, 2 soy beans, 3 corn bites and 5 sunflower seeds to accompany Pipo on her journey to Heaven. Somehow, I wished I could give her more, I looked around the house, but I didn't know what else I could bring to her. How could I solidify my love into a physical object and place it in her tiny paws?

When Daddy had created a burrow in the grass patch and had stretched out for Pipo, I held back, and carressed her soft body for the last time. She looked peaceful, as though she was in a deep sleep and dreaming of sunflower seed fields. I couldn't believe she was dead, because she seemed so alive, so close to me. Daddy stepped forward and took her away from me before I could break into tears again. I didn't even want to say bye to Pipo.

Walking back home, my shoulders were slouched more than ever, my head was down, my hair was a mess of shock and grief, my eyes were choked with overflowing tears. I couldn't see anything in front of me, everything was blurred and I could only hear my constant sobbing.

12 days. Why not a month? Why not another few months? Just as I was getting used to not seeing Pocky around anymore, Pipo left my side as well. How can I accept one passing and receive another one within 12 days? Cruel.

Then again, God had given me much more than the slice of cake I deserved. Pocky and Pipo outlived their other siblings at least 8 months, and they appeared to have enjoyed life beyond their lifespan of 2 years. What else could a loving mistress ask for? Yet, death is always hard to accept.

The empty space in my living room. It used to be one area 12 days ago, now it's two areas this morning. I've developed a tendency to sit in front of their cages, refilling food bowls, replacing bottles with boiled water, tidying saw dust, placing the running wheels properly, pouring bathing powder and brushing their fur, teasing them with a long spoon. But now, there's nothing but emptiness whose best partner is loneliness.

It will be a while till I approach their passing with a much more cherrier perspective.

And I'm still sitting down, watching the space in front of me, pretending the two furry ones are sleeping in their homes.