Thank You and Goodbye, Manu the Dog

Manu (more known as Nung)
December 9, 2005 - June 21, 2014

I remember the night you were born. You were so beautiful. You were the second eldest puppy in the litter and the biggest among your siblings. No one said anything but everyone silently agreed that we were gonna keep you. 

You might have been the largest puppy but when it came to feeding and finding your way to your mom you were slow and clumsy. You always smelled of poop and one of the other puppies sometimes peed on you. The first time I put you on my lap I was in love. We decided to name you after Manu Ginobili, but we loved calling you Nung among your many (and I mean a lot) nicknames. You were as gentle and loving as you were cute. You have always been photogenic even in your last weeks. That's why you have more pics. Name every angle, we have pics of you. Even when new dogs came, you were the favorite. 

You growing up with Dunkin and Chubby was fun to watch. Dunkin was more playful and Chubby smarter. You just watched while Dunkin played and cocked your head left to right when given instructions or asked questions. You were always outsmarted by your sister. Chubby knew how to open the gate and even fix her bed made of used clothes. Your clumsy attempt at fixing yours was endearing. We nicknamed you dumb dog but for that we loved you more.

When we lost the other dogs and only you and Chubby and her daughters were left, we were still happy. With Dunkin gone, everyone's attention was on you. It might seem cruel to the other dogs but we couldn't help it. And good dog that you are, you returned all that love and attention.

Million Spots

Some nicknames: Manung, Nung, Nu, baby boy, old boy, Inung, Inu, Minung, big boy, Minu, big dog, baby dog

I remember you used to go places whenever you slipped out of the gate. Sometimes we went crazy just looking for you or when we catch you digging for food in a trash. You were always so stubborn and you shunned discipline. But you never abused your privilege. You were gentle and sweet and your beautiful, brown, soulful eyes were enough to be granted forgiveness.

I remember chasing you with a stick when you didn't want to go home. I never really wanted to hit you, just scare you enough to get you home safely. You had a few fights with other dogs and well, you weren't every good at defending yourself. That's why we were so protective of you. I remember checking every street in the subdivision with my sister Doreen. We spotted you at the last street when we saw your bright white fur in the dark.

When passers-by attempted to hurt you it enraged us. It is sad that the people in my country either looked at dogs as food or pest. You and the other dogs had to be watched over. 

When you had mange after eating crabs and shrimp from a careless, filthy neighbor, you lost most of your beautiful white and brown hair. Your thick neck that we loved to touch was gone. But even when you were at your ugliest, you were still our baby boy... and even took some embarrassing photos.

I'm proud that even without proper training you learned some commands over the years. You can even understand commands in three different languages. You complied easily enough except when Mama was around to spoil you. Oh it isn't easy to get mad at you at all. Even when you had distemper and you didn't wanna eat and get up for a month. At that time we didn't have enough money to give you the best medicine and attention but Mama and Doreen worked hard to feed you, make you drink, clean you up, and look after you all the time. I remember spending my savings just to make sure the veterinarian checked you. Even going so far as wanting you alone to survive even if the other dogs don't get enough attention. You almost gave up on us but we wanted you to stay. Not you. Your death would be unacceptable.

When you finally opened your eyes after that ordeal we were overjoyed. I think by then everyone in the family has realized the same thing. You were family and if we lost you, it would have hurt us really bad. When you got sick it was also the first time the veterinarian discovered you were carrying another disease. She said it wouldn't be so fatal yet so we had no choice but to ignore it for a while until we have enough money to get you treated. Yet you survived distemper so we thought you'd survive the other disease too. When you got fatter again and your eyes glowed, your thick neck looked thick again, we got too happy and careless. But it was only after a while that we realized our mistake.

You became a part of our life even more after that incident. You were the most photographed, most mentioned, most hugged and caressed, and even the butt of our jokes. We even started asking each other in the family "ikaw si Nung?" (are you Nung?) or "asa si Nung?" (where is Nung?) "Kinsa si Nung?" (who is Nung?) and calling you a Boy Scout. If there was a question that had no easy answer we always said to each other "ask Nung."

Years passed and the symptoms got worse but me and my two sisters were in college and we could not spare anything for your medicine. Two dogs passed away and only you and Chubby were left. Chubby got sick too and you were getting older and slower. Still, our old baby Nung was well-loved. You no longer ate trash whenever you slip past the gate and you never wandered too far. You were more mature. Irritable maybe; you hated passing cars and children being too noisy when you're taking a nap, but you were a good dog. Everyone who didn't know you were scared because you might bite. They thought you were a big, terrible, rabid dog. They didn't know we were always worried because you were clumsy, cowardly, and stubborn.

When we got new puppies you were the first to accept them. When Chubby wanted to hurt one of them you defended the puppies and almost got into a fight. I thanked you when I saw what you did. You were devoted even when our attention slightly shifted to the new dogs. Still, you got more photos, bigger bones, more food, and more pats and hugs. There was talk of letting you go because you were old and sickly. Someone even said you were a stinky dog. Me and my sisters objected to all talk of kicking you out of the family. Never Manu. I'd rather let the puppies go than you.

And because we got new puppies your treatment was postponed, almost forgotten. What hurts the most, while thinking about all the chances we could have had of saving you was that you never wavered  in your love for us. You have always been good and never complained of your pains. Yes you were whiny when you wanted to go out and explore and you were frail and cowardly, but you were strong when you're with us. I hope you can forgive us for all the chances we let slip by. I'm sorry we didn't have money to have your eye checked and we could not afford the surgery for that cauliflower growth. 

For the late nights when no one came home earlier than usual and consequently for the late dinner, for those times when we were too lazy to play with you, walk you or give you attention, for those few times when we were frustrated and angry, for the times when you were hurt and in pain and we could not do anything---we are very sorry.

I regret not being a good enough sister to you. We all regret that we were too poor to give you the medical attention you needed.

Letting you go was the hardest, but seeing you in pain was the most devastating. The night I saw that you couldn't pee anymore, I felt like my world was gonna fall apart. We already knew that because of our carelessness sooner or later you were gonna leave us. But there was no preparing for your imminent death. You were behaved and curious during the trip to the vet. I already had a feeling we might be given a choice to let you go. I wanted to cling to some hope but it will only hurt you more. For some months I tried picturing the house without you but now that you're no longer here I felt I wasn't really ready. The house seems empty without our baby boy. I will miss your whining, your loud big boy bark, your howling when no one is home, the way you cocked your head when you listened, the way you react when you smell something awful or how you're scared of bugs and some toys, the way you begged to go out or ask for food, the way you use your front paws to get our attention (the famour "kuhit"), they way you smile---Manu Smile---when you pose for the cam, the way you played (you just chase us all over, nip at our shorts and bark), your wagging tail and your infamous brown spots that we wanted to count. I could name more... We will miss you a lot, Nung. 

Thank you for being with us when we were poor, sick or healthy, miserable or happy, cold or loving. Thank you Nung for being strong in your last few days. When the veterinarian said we had to put you to sleep it was so hard to say yes but then you looked at the vet as if you were saying it was the best suggestion. Thank you for giving us a chance to love and care for you. Call me biased but you are and will always be my favorite dog. Thank you for learning the complicated command "wait" whenever we get ready to go out. Thank you for accepting your dog and human family. Thank you for the wonderful eight years. Thank you Nung! Goodbye "old baby boy."

The Manu Smile

*photos (except the last photo below) are unedited and taken using digicams, slr cams, phone cams