When we got home from HK, the first thing I did was check up on the dogs. Instead of looking happy to see me (though they were), they were all whimpering, as if to say, “Why did you leave us for so loooong?” Of course, our helper Gemma was here to feed them, but, again of course, they don’t have a relationship with her like I do.
My sister and I took them for a walk outside our house last Sunday night. This is their first venture to the outside since we lost Bonchon. I have to say, they must be thoroughly traumatized by that incident, because usually Tyler, my piglet all grown up, is bolting down the street as soon as the gate opens. This time around, he refused to walk further than a foot away from my legs and curled up in a heap halfway down the block, as if refusing to go any further (in the direction where Bonchon died). So I took him home and spent a while with him curled up in my lap.
I worry about Tyler, not just because he buckled under like that, but the other day, Sammy (our tiny but forceful and domineering half-poodle) successfully overpowered him and drew blood. Has he lost the will to live?
I feel a bit bad about this because I had been concerned about Hugo, who is now the well-adjusted, fun-loving dog he was before his brother passed away. But I failed to see that maybe Sammy or Tyler suffered from the death, too, which is quite obviously the case.
I’ve been paying him more attention these days, though I wonder where the frisky piglet went, leaving this shell of a dog behind. I’m hoping to see him again very soon.