UNTITLED

UNEDITED SAMPLE LITERARY ARTICLE
By Karenina Isabel Apilado Lampa
IV-Micahel Faraday


I met him back then, when he had been so young. In the instant that I first set my eyes on him, I already knew. He would have a special place in my heart.

The day he arrived, we were all ecstatic. It was always nice for someone new to enter the family. But when we tried to approach him, the aura he emitted was not even close to friendly. He bared his fangs at us, and immediately developed a dislike for us. And in our whole life, my siblings and I have always grown accustomed to dogs that were friendly. Hence the term, 'A Man's Bestfriend', right? So the reception that this new Japanese Spitz offered us didn't really appeal to us.

We decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. It was already late when he came, so we attributed the crankiness to the time. Our parents laughed at us and reminded us that dogs do not work much like humans do. They were merely creatures who had paws instead of hands, and didn't have the necessity to wear underwear and clothes. But just before we returned to our room, I heard our grandfather calling out to the new dog. "Ritchie! Come here!", he had said. The Japanese Spitz wagged its tail eagerly and bounded towards my grandfather. I couldn't help but smile as I closed the door behind me. His name kept resounding in my head. But at that time, I didn't know that Ritchie, the Japanese Spitz, would play an important role in our life....in my life.

The next morning, my siblings and I decided to pay Ritchie another visit. We entered our grandparents' room and looked around. Both of the family dogs were there. Poochi, our Shih Tzu, immediately woke up from his stupor and began to climb our legs, desperately trying to lick us. After giving him a pat, I turned towards the newcomer. To my surprise, I found him wagging his white tail. And, despite his attitude the night before, he approached us in a different manner. Following Poochi's lead, he bounded up our legs happily. That day, it was the start of a new friendship.

However, as the time passed, a problem came to be evident. There were two house dogs, Poochi and Ritchie. And reality struck us when we noticed that we haven't been dividing our attention equally between both dogs. We've spent quite a few years with Poochi, so the tendency was that we spent more time with Ritchie.

The favoritism could not even be hidden. Poochi had to sleep inside his cage, while Ritchie was free to roam around the veranda in our grandparents' room for his convenience.

I will not be a hypocrite and say that I tried to be fair to both of them. I honestly favored Ritchie more, and I really don't know why, up until now. My siblings noticed that lack of attention that we have been giving Poochi. They decided that we should spend a little more time with him. I turned to look at them both, and turned away. I couldn't leave Ritchie alone. I just couldn't. It was a selfish, foolish, biased move...but I couldn't move away.

So as my siblings spent more time with Poochi, I noticed the change that occurred in Ritchie. He became more and more uncontrollable. My grandmother couldn't take all the destruction their veranda has been experiencing due to Ritchie's constant bursts of energy. They transferred him to the terrace where Poochi also resided in. I knew that it was only fair that this happened, but I couldn't be happy. This meant change, and for me, change was not always a good thing.

Ironically, Ritchie's change of habitat became a reason for me to actually stop and think about the right thing, and I started spending time with Poochi more. I made up for the time that I had spent away from him, apologizing at the same time. Ritchie, however, became more and more uncontrollable. He would run around and around, and it eventually annoyed the people in the house. So the day when they put a leash on him and chained him to one of the grills in our terrace, it depressed him.

I knew it would teach him a lesson, but if only I had known that something bad would happen, I would have set him free.

After a few weeks, we noticed the big change in Ritchie's mood. He wasn't as energetic as before. Instead, he would stay in his corner of the cage and brood. Whenever we opened the doors to our house, it would only be Poochi who would run toward us. Ritchie would just stay there, a different look in his brown eyes. I started to worry for him. My sister assured me, however, that it was just a phase."Dogs have phases?” I asked. She smiled and nodded. I turned away from Ritchie again.

We thought that in time, he would return to his original self again. But, ironically, he started to emit strange sounds during one night. It sounded like a cry of agony, and as my siblings and I went to check on him, we noticed his strange position inside the cage. He was twisted in an odd sort of way, and putting it together with his cries of pain, we knew something was wrong. We just knew it.

The following morning, we asked our parents to send him to the veterinarian. They took one look at him and agreed. We tried to get him out of his cage, but as we tried to reach out to him, he would bark at us and try to bite us. We called our grandfather for help, knowing that it had been him who Ritchie had first developed a liking to. But even with him, Ritchie acted cold. So our grandfather titled the cage and Ritchie slid out of it. As soon as he was out, he did nothing but lay sprawled on the ground. The sight was enough to make me cry, but I didn't. I assured myself that things would end up fine.

That day, they brought him to the vet. My siblings wanted to turn their attention away from worrying, so they played with Poochi instead. I couldn't stop pacing back and forth. I didn't have enough reassurance in me to be happy with them. I wanted to know what was happening to him at that time, and I hated the fact that I had stayed in the house. I couldn't push aside the feeling in me that Ritchie lying on the ground helplessly would be the last scene I could picture him in. I didn't want to cry. Not yet. Crying meant I was accepting the fact that he'd be gone. I didn't want to let the tears fall down.

When the sound of the car's horn reached our ears, all of us went to meet them. But when my mother came out, she had a sad look plastered on her face. I didn't have to listen to her next words to know what had happened. "He didn't make it...He died in the car, just as we reached the vet."

It all fell down in an instant. If I had known that he would be gone from me...If I had known that the last time I patted him would have been the last time...If I had known that the last time he stared up at us with his warm brown eyes would be the look we'd always remember...I would never have turned away from him. I cried for him. I loved him, and I wasn't prepared to say goodbye. I cried for so long, locking myself up and not wanting to talk to anyone about it. Everything came back to me. The first time he entered the house...the first time he licked our faces...the first time he and Poochi had a fight...everything.

But horror struck me as I tried to remember what he looked like. The harder I tried to remember, the easier it faded. I desperately wanted to remember how he looked like, and so I dug around for his Baby Book. When I opened it, I stared at it blankly. All hope was lost. We didn't even have a picture of him. He was gone from me...forever.

I didn't even have the chance to say goodbye...

It took me a few days to recover. And as soon as I felt better, my mom confronted me. She told me that I had to be brave. I looked down and cried silently. I told her that I didn't want him to leave me. My mom put her arm around me. Her next words surprised me more than anything else.

"It may be because of the broken ribs that Ritchie died, but believe me, it may have been because of another reason. A more noble reason. Legend says that when a pet dies, it does so to save its owner."

I stopped crying and gave her a questioning look.

"Do you remember when your sister had high fever, just a few weeks before? It may have been deadly. All the signs of Dengue were there, and we were starting to prepare ourselves. If it had been dengue, that would've been her third time. And honestly, not many people even survive their first experience with Dengue. She would have been very lucky to survive it again."
She smiled at me before she continued.

"And then, it was gone. The rashes , the high fever. And you know, Kina, I think Ritchie died to save your sister. It was a very noble thing that he did, Kina. Be proud of him."

Up until now, I still believe in what my mother had told me. And I cannot thank Ritchie enough for it. He gave up his own life to save my sister, and I will never forget it.

Every year, when June 15 arrives,

I know that two important friends in my life share that day. My best friend in elementary celebrates her birthday on that very day.

And it was during the morning of June 15, that my Ritchie heroically gave up his life, in place of someone very important to me.