Bok Bok bokokok

i'm not the biggest animal fan in the world. sure i love fish, but just to the point of admiring their colors and pointing out the really freaky-looking ones. fish live in a world of their own, where you are and will forever be a spectator and even intruder into their world.

cats freak me out. enough said.

dogs, well, dogs are a different story. i've heard and read enough about the freaky people who dress up their dogs in burberry sweaters and sit them on embroidered pillows (can anyone spell paris hilton?) most of the time i don't even get what the whole fuss is about dogs.

we've always had dogs for as long as i can remember -- patty, who had eight pups one time which we named after the planets (we didn't name any of them a pluto, too reminiscent of walt disney's dog). boris, the dachsund who'd bark at me when i get home way after my curfew. noodles, a japanese spitz that was the most ladylike of our dogs. she'd sit like a debutante at her coming out ball -- back straight with her two front paws crossed in front of her. baron and blink, a pair of labrador retrievers who were so dumb they didn't know how to have sex.

they were fun dogs -- they lived long lives, barked at the postman, newspaper deliver boy, meralco bill man, and the pizza hut delivery man. but as far as i was concerned, they were just dogs, as much a part of the landscape at home as the santol tree and the gumamela plants. all our dogs but two. and they were both named Bok.

the first Bok came into our lives when i was ten. he was one of those askals that eventually find their way into your home when the askals of your relatives give birth to a bunch of pups and they give the pups away. Bok was a white dog with black spots scattered randomly all over his body. he was just a regular dog but for some reason, he wormed his way into my non-dog loving heart. i've had him for about a year when the accident had to happen. our maid at the time was a bit old and her eyesight wasn't as it used to be. she was pushing the sliding door shut and she didn't see that Bok was in the doorway. poor Bok got his nose caught in the door and the trauma was bad enough to put him in a coma. he was in a coma for almost a week and we had the vet do everything to revive him. and he revived but he was never the same. it was as if he had forgotten all about us and would try to bite me whenever i'd get too close. it was as if he was still really angry at having the door slammed on his face and he remained angry til the day he died.

i went through the usual "i'm never going to love another dog as long as i live" phase that all bereaved dog owners go through. it was 18 years before i loved another dog again. and it was no accident that i named him Bok as well.

i was having one of my black weeks when my mom came home and said "i have a surprise for you." she gave me a ball of white with black spots scattered randomly all over his body. it was Bok all over again. same white fur, same black spots, same askal look and demeanor. and it was this Bok that rescued me and pushed me out of that black place.

Bok's been sick the past couple of weeks. he has heartworm, this pesky disease that dogs get when they get bitten by mosquitoes. so for the past couple of days, Bok has been freaking me out when he runs up to meet me. he runs up to me then suddenly just keels over. the first time he did this i thought he had a heart attack which nearly gave me a heart attack. will just wait for the treatment to kick in. in the meantime, he just sits next to me with his head on my lap, occasionally putting up his paw and asking for a tummy rub.

i hope he gets well quick. i know i haven't turned into one of those dog owners who dress up their dogs in silly burberry sweaters. i've become one of those dog owners who've let their dogs worm their way into their hearts.

how does one recover from a loss of a dog? i wouldn't know. i don't think that's ever happened to anyone yet. you lose a dog, you lose a part of you that keeps you human.