February 5th, 2012
Call me a nostalgic fool, but I like to look at old photographs when I’m away from home. Photos can be tricky – it depends on the mood, the place, and the alcohol level in your bloodstream that makes you appreciate something more than before.
Today, this shattered my world in two:
That is Kía sitting at the table and demanding (not waiting) for her portion of non-dog-food to be served to her hastily.
Due to my traveling, my mom and dad have taken care of Kía ever since I left…This was about a year ago, and now Kía and Max (kía’s brother) were “adopted” by my parents. My dad has taken it to next level with the dogs. I don’t know to this day if this is an age issue, but he’s grown obsessed to the point that he defends these dogs with his life. He has also gone through the trouble of undoing any type of obedience I ever gave these dogs. This, has unfortunately been a constant confrontational issue…but today, as they say, I saw the light.
I just took a glimpse at Kía’s photo above, and I felt her so damn close and I succumbed in accepting my dad’s “craziness”. The way he treats these dogs is just a reciprocal action on how much these dogs love him. I don’t think there is anything as pure as the love of a dog towards you, the communication efforts they go through to let you know how they feel, and the never-tiring ecstatic happiness routine they pull when you have been gone 5 minutes as if it had even 100 years is just fucking priceless.
I have taken this for granted, and it breaks me apart, once more, that it’s not my dad going ape-shit over these dogs; but rather myself becoming cold and used to the most sincere love there I could possibly be exposed to.
Touché Dad, you were right again and again.