Viro

I’ve never had a pet like Viro. He was our dog, from before I was born until December 2016. I was told, when mum brought me home from the hospital, it was like he just became a big brother, coming and protecting me. That thought today still warms me.

I had only spent my first ten years with Viro, and it’s been almost six years since then. I don’t remember much of his time here. The memories I have of him are more like a small slice from a large cake. Maybe I should share those moments, rather than my most rememberable memory of Viro. I think that’s what I’m going to do. But please, bear in mind I was in primary school and younger when all this was going on, so the memories are… staring to fade, to my sadness and frustration.

Memory number 1:

There was a time where, instead of using paint, I would use dandelions to change the colour of his white fur to yellow-ish. But, being much younger, you never really remember that adults can see. They aren’t blind. I vaguely remember that I actually lied to mum saying I didn't do it, Sam – my younger sister – must’ve done it. Of course, that little lie never lasted that long, and I told mum the truth. I made Viro’s fur yellow by rubbing dandelions against his white fur. I don’t remember if mum laughed or she was angry or whatever, but definitely looking back, I’m sure we’d all get some sort of nostalgic laugh out of it. If I hold onto this memory strong enough that is. I hope I do.

Memory number 2:

Ok, so the first memory kind of intertwines with this memory. Bath time with Viro. So the sums up the connection between memory one and memory two. We had to wash him due to the dandelion yellow painting his fur. I feel like every household that has a dog – or any pet really – has a signature area to bath them. Like a sink or a tub or even the bathtub. Ours was the baby bath. You know the little portable tubs that hasn’t got an angled rim, one end higher than the other? So, yeah, that was Viro’s assigned washing area – unless we just hosed him down. I think I have a memory of bathing Viro – with bubbles, obviously – and I was playing about, with a hose. But its vague, I don’t know what exactly that memory was.

Memory number 3:

As the others are, this one is blurry, like an unfocused photo. I know it was after we learnt Viro was sick. He had been growing tired, and he was in pain. I remember one day I had gone into the laundry, and sat on Viro’s bed, beside him. I remember feeling scared. Sad. I think in that moment I kinda saw him as an older brother. I mean he was there from when I was born, and he’s always been protective of the family, so it suited him. Very much.

I never imagined a day without him. It just seemed… impossible.

December came, and Viro passed. It was the only way to give him a pain free life. To let him go.

It was hard over the next little while; he was the first soul I lost.

I know this doesn't exactly include him, but I have another memory. I had come home from school and it had been a hard day. I was sad and tired and missing something. I had practically rushed home, just to grab the pot filled with Viro’s ashes, and put on the table. And all I did was stare at the pot. Remembering all the good times I had with Viro. At least, the ones I remembered at the time.

I feel so shameful for not remembering all the memories. Not taking the time to remember him. But I have now, in a way. This competition has given me the chance to remember a pet I do not remember as well as I want to.

Nostalgic memories – who could go without them.