A year without Zoe.


Time is meant to heal all wounds.

Except those that made from those who are taken from us

Time does not lessen the pain you feel

Time does not stitch back the pieces of your broken heart

Time does not make you forget

Time does nothing.

Except, one day make you realise

Just how long you’ve managed to live

And get by without them.

And yes, you eventually learn to

get through each day without seeing their face

Or giving them a hug

Or just knowing they’re there,

But time does not fill the void in your chest.

Time does not make anything better.

Time does Nothing.

This past year without Zoe

Has been unfathomable.

On most days,

We remembered all the little things about her

How she made us smile

How she filled our lives

With so many warm happy memories and love

Darling Zoe,

Know that wherever you are, we will always hold a place for you in our hearts

Know that you will always be our golden girl.

And Know that we will always love you.




On May 21st, our little fur baby Zoe passed away in the wee hours of the morning. I wont forget that morning she took a huge part of our lives with her. She was the still the prettiest dog I had ever seen even as she lay there eternally asleep.

It’s hard to put dIMG_20130704_163606own in words just how much she meant to us and the impact she’s had on our lives. 10 amazing years with her and we’ve been through a lot with her.  From trips to the beach and mountain hikes to travelling across countries, eating watermelon and sharing spaghetti; she always got the best. Though over the past two years, the evening walks reduced and her diet changed in order to suit her weight and the heat which she wasnt a fan of, she was always the favourite because she was our little baby. We watched her grow from a naughty little puppy who would chew up parts of the bed frame, our shoes and sometimes even our homework, to a beautiful, occasionally still naughty lovely soul. Everyone who met her fell instantly in love with her.

Her friendly cheerful personality, her brown beady eyes, how she understood when we spoke about her and she’d wag her tail, her love for black dogs. How she’d hide and pretend to be sleeping when we call her for a bath but the moment you take her leash and call her to go for a walk, she’d be hyper and excited. And when we finally did manage to give her a bath and use about 3 towels to dry her, she had to have one towel laid out on the floor for her to sit her fluffy bottom on.

Over the years she got calmer, she was able to walk without a leash by our side unless she saw a cat. She became more obedient. Just what the vet said she’d be. During our first few hurried visits on numerous occasions after she’d eaten things she wasn’t supposed to, the Vet advised us saying ” If you tolerate her for 3 years, you’ll be blessed with the best dog in the years after that” and that’s exactly what we were. Blessed.

Reading all the comments about Zoe from Facebook, I realized that we weren’t tIMG_20120429_181853he only ones who loved her. And somehow that eased my pain of losing her. She wasn’t just a dog. She was a big part of us and a part of almost everyone who met her. And that was the brilliant and most wonderful thing to know, that people from all over the world who we met in the past 10 years grieved for her loss from this world.  Relatives, Friends from Dubai and Srilanka, family friends from Bahrain, the garderner and plumber, the tuk tuk drivers, people who have just seen pictures or videos of her were all deeply saddened by her death. That’s when I realised just how much she was loved. And she would have been the luckiest dog alive and we, the luckiest family to have this beautiful soul become a part of us.

Yeah, we did regret not staying up by her side after her last trip to the vet, or how we didn’t take her on enough lovely walks or how we sometimes forgot to brush her golden fur or didn’t buy her enough tennis balls and soft toys to play with. But she always got the bigger bone to chew on or the bigger share of a fruit. She always got the prettiest and biggest of everything. This Christmas, we’ll be buying two toys instead of three. And that’s going to be hard.

When my mom opens the door, she’s not going to have Zoe to take her handbag in and that’s going to be hard.

When we buy her favourite bananas and she’s not there to drool over It, it’s going to be hard.

When its someone birthday and we start singing and she’s not there to join us by barking, it’s going to be hard.

When we take only two dogs instead of three to the beach or a walk, it’s going to be hard.

When we have to get used to feeding only two dogs while her empty bowl sits on a side untouched for days, its going to be hard.

Its been a week and a half since our golden girl passed away and it still hasn’t gotten easier. I guess, no one ever forgets their pet. they just somehow manage to get through the day without them. and that’s the hardest part. Sometimes, a part of me still waits for her to climb up the stairs behind Holly and Dobby. Sometimes, my hand still reaches and takes 3 biscuits from the biscuit jar. Her favourite biscuits. And it pains me every time to drop the last biscuit back. It pains me that I’ll never see her sit down before we could ask her to for a biscuit or a fruit. It pains me that we won’t have to watch what we say cause we know she understands, regarding food or walks or bath times, or going out to our aunts place.

Her leash still hangs on the hook after her last visit to the Vet. No one’s taken it off. No one’s touched it. I wonder if we ever will.

10 years ago she came in to our family’s life and most days, she is what held us together. She is what kept us happy and smiling. And these words will never be enough to honour her memory. She was much more than these words could ever offer.

She was an angel sent down to love us.


Your paw prints will forever be etched in to our hearts Puppy.

Love always,



Baby Angels.

I didn’t hold her in my arms. I watched. Like a helpess scared animal, I sat and watched.  She was tiny. She was fragile and yet so strong. Her breaths were growing weaker. Less frequent. Her eyes, still glued shut were quivering. Her tiny hands seemed pasted to the side of her body. She barely moved. I would have asked her to run. Run far, far away before they started to take her away from me. If her legs were strong enough I would have asked her to run without looking back. If my legs were strong enough, I would have run. Before they took her away from me. She needed me. and him. Not them. They were cruel and mean. I sat there as emotionless as she was. My eyes as still as hers was, except mine were open and red. And covered in tears. I didn’t want to hold her. I knew I couldn’t deal with the pain of knowing how she felt in my arms for the briefest moment and wake up the next morning without anyone to hold.  So I sat there and watched him hold her as close to his heart as he could have. So that she’d know, we were still there. So that she’d know love, before they took her away.

Not even an hour had passed, and she was gone. Our hands were empty. Our eyes were swollen and red. My lips dry and pasty. She stopped breathing a few moments after I kissed her forehead. Like she was waiting for my love. It was all I could give her. And before I could say her name, she left me. She left us.

After that, everything was a blur.

Yours truly,

Painted Shadow