So Long, My Dear Waka, Until We Meet Again

There were yellow butterflies (or moths?) hovering over the bougainvillea blooms on the planter boxes along Buendia when I buried the remains of my dear feline friend, Waka. 4pm, grey skies threatening rain. It's good that I still wear a filtration mask as I was crying again. To be honest, I didn't really want to undergo the trauma of burying another foster stray. The planter boxes near the railway is littered with the remains of feline friends I've lost over the past 3 or so years. It's trauma-inducing but I want to honor the memory of Waka aka Kristoff, whom I've been feeding for the past 3 or so years, since the pandemic lockdowns.

I had an inkling that his health was compromised when over the last two weeks or so, he has not been grooming himself. Had I had the resources, I would've brought him to the vet early on. But as it is, I've been struggling with finances, as I've had been the past four years. These are the times when I've really losing whatever shred of faith in whatever god has been indoctrinated into my head all my life before I woke up to the fact that if there is indeed a god, it may not have my best interest in mind.

I've lost a lot of foster strays. You'd think that I've be immune to the sadness, the depression, the heartbreak but you don't get used to it. Each one is heartbreaking, maybe more than the others before it. I just wish that somehow, after I myself cross the rainbow bridge, I'd be reunited with all the sentient beings I've cared for.

I still look at the shop window of the Asian store downstairs every time I pass by, hoping to take a glimpse of my little boy, Waka. Old habits die hard. I miss you little boy. Until we meet again.

P.S. I keep having phantom tails and paws either passing by my legs or calling my attention so many times. I keep thinking it's my rescue, Alvin, but each time, I see her asleep far from where I sit. In any case, that gives me comfort that my foster strays haven't forgotten me. Until we see each other, I'd hold you all in my heart.

Goodnight, for Now, My Dearest TumTum

It came as a surprise to us see the passing of our youngest canine, TumTum (actually, my sister's dogs but I consider them my co-adoptees). Although I must say, I had inklings for days leading to his transition as I kept experiencing phanom paws begging me for attention while seated and working on my worktable.

TumTum was 6. His birthday approximated the passing of our Mom, which makes it doubly sad for my sis and myself. While he may be temperamental and moody at times, he was a sweet dog who loves nothing better than a belly rub, hence his name.

I've said it many times before but as a foster and animal carrier, each loss is heartbreaking like each and every one. You do not become calloused to the great sadness that sweeps you and take your breath away. At times, I think being forgetful during the later stages of life may be a blessing -- each loss leaves a hole in your heart that you can't fill, and as the years pass, your heart simply fills up with holes.

We take consolation in being given the privilege to love and care for you. I personally look forward to the day when I pass and be greeted by you and the dozens of strays and fosters I have loved and cared for all these years. Thank you and I love you with all my heart.

Transitions: Going Lacto-Ovo Vegetarian

Produce from the nearest palengke

It took much thought and a lot of years to have arrived at a decision to transition to a lacto-ovo diet. It's both a physical and spiritual health decision. I'm not getting any younger and also, meat is expensive on many levels -- the true economic and environmental costs are high; same with the suffering of other sentient beings who are in a lot of ways, not our inferiors.

I guess it also stems from my soul searching for the past decade or so when I moved from one extreme to the other -- fundamentalism to atheism. Yes, I entertained the thought of atheism, having exhorted the Abrahamic god so many times but not received any answer. I digress, but it's somehow connected to my epiphanies. I could've turned into full-time atheism weren't it for episodes in my life when I had mystical experiences. At another time, fundamentalists would be quick to brand these as demonic but I believe otherwise. There are other things in this world that religion would just dismiss as 'demonic,' 'Satanic,' or 'diabolical." Rubbish, I say now.