multom in parvo, a lot in a little thor

Dear Thor,

Thank you for having such a great personality (insane but totally lovable): for ruining my hardwood floors in South Syquia; for insisting on sleeping on the bed, for developing the knack of rubbing your eyes over all my clothes; for forcing yourself onto the driver's seat or rather my lap while I was driving, your paws at the wheel; for making it impossible to take you out to restaurants because you chased after waitresses because you felt so entitled that everyone at every moment should be fulfilling your desire to consume food; for ignoring all the rodents in my apartment in Boracay; for being jealous of the Loki and Oscar; for having no survival skills, poor eye sight, tired legs, obscenely stinky odor. Despite your perfume, you were the cutest pug I'd ever seen, and the countless tourist photos that were taken of you is proof of it.

Thank you for teaching me patience and responsibility, taking care of you helped make me a better person. You came to me when I really needed something to love and you returned that love unconditionally. Thank you for forgiving me when I left you for trips, I hated to see the look you gave me whenever luggage was out, and loving me when I returned. Thank you for being patient. I don't think I was a really good dog owner. But I think you understood that I wanted to be.

The motto for pugs is "Multom in parvo" which means "a lot in a little." You lived up to that. You may have been small, but your personality was huge, as was the clumps of hair you shed all over, like tumbleweeds they would fly around the apartment. The impressions you have left in my life and the lives of those that loved you is bigger than your life. Thor, you were a lot in a little dog, living up to your namesake, the Norse god. I will always hear your bark, small hoarse thing that it was, but to me it will sound like thunder.

Thank you, I love you,
Kaz

My friend Claudia wrote to me today, letting me know that my old dog Thor passed in the Philippines. It seemed that whatever took him worked fast. There was no lingering. He stopped eating during the day and looked tired. Then retired by 10pm. He was 7 plus in dog years. I'd given him away to a friend's family in Aklan. They were the best fit. A family with children and time. Thor was a needy little dog, who loved to be loved. And he deserved that.

I gave him up in June, that was a little over 3 months ago, because I'd decided that traveling, yoga and writing was my calling. Life in Boracay with Thor was not. It was not an easy decision. Actually, Thor was one of the hardest things about leaving home. And there were times it seemed like he was my only real anchor to my old life.

And now, he's gone. Not just from my life, but gone gone. I'd like to celebrate him by writing him this letter (let's imagine dearly departed dogs can read for a moment or beyond that postive energy can vibrate through time and space).