My precious baby Lingling

    I have a 13-year-old female Shiba Inu from Japan. She is old now, but she is still my precious baby. She has been spoiled her whole life, and I am happy to let her be. Every day, I carry her up and down the stairs just so she can go outside for a short walk. My arms or legs get tired, but my heart never complains.

    At mealtime, she eats with caution, constantly watching Amu, afraid he might steal her food. She eats quickly, nervously. And if the food is not enough, she barks at me again, trusting that I will understand her needs. She trusts me completely.

    Every night, after eating her dinner, she will bark at me again around midnight, asking for more food. Even when I pretend to be asleep, she knows. Her small barks are demanding, but they are also a reminder that she is still here, still hungry, still full of life.

    She needs a dog bed everywhere—one in the bedroom, one in the living room, and even one in my landlord’s room. Every place must have her own bed, as if she wants to leave her presence behind wherever she rests. When Amu, the Husky my landlord raises, takes her bed, she never blames him. Instead, she looks at me with angry eyes, as if saying, “Why didn’t you protect what belongs to me?” She is smart like that. She always knows who to blame.

    Last month, she became sick and was diagnosed with gastroenteritis after blood tests and an X-ray. The veterinarian told me she has many bone spurs around her spine. Hearing that broke my heart. Thankfully, I have been giving her Antinol regularly to ease her pain. The doctor praised me for taking good care of her and said that because of this, she can still walk properly. If she had not received this care, she might have become paralyzed suddenly.

I realized then how fragile her time is, and how precious every ordinary day has become. Carrying her, feeding her, listening to her bark—it is all love. As long as she needs me, I will be there.