Good night, Leon

Our first pic

It was a cold Spring evening when I first took him home, inside a cardboard box I carried around Ortigas like a girl moving away from home. I can't remember how I survived the ride while carrying a three-month-old puppy, reeking of dog food and urine, and whining whenever my hands leave the underside of his neck. It was a rough time but we made it.

I named him Leon, after Squall Lionheart of Final Fantasy 8. He was a schweenie, a cross-breed between a dachshund and a shi tzu. Leon was predominantly dachshund, and took his features from his mother.

Leon was a whiner, a surprise since he was the sole male in a brood of four. While we ride the tricycle home, I pulled him from the box and into my lap and his ears perked up, watching the squiggly road to his new home. He was scared but curious--a trait his breed was known for. I was not surprised. He was still very much a baby and could barely utter a bark.

That first night, Papa and Mama arranged a small bed for him. And little Leon was the center of attention, like a newborn babe fresh from the hospital. It had been years since we last had a dog in the house. My parents, especially my Papa, adored Leon.

The first night was hard for Leon. While we were asleep, he squeaked and made noises. I remember standing from bed and stroking his neck, his weak spot. This shut him up and I went back to bed. Papa said he continued whining that night until he finally went out and found the pup shivering from the cold in the sala. Papa wrapped Leon in a blanket and watched over him until he finally fell asleep. The succeeding nights, I pulled the basket inside my room and reach for him whenever he cries. Leon loved being touched.

Soon enough, he settled in. Leon would eventually bark loud, madly dashing toward us once Mama and I arrive from work with tail wagging like a pendulum in full gear. He would jump and reach our knees, clawing our legs in a process that annoyed my mom (and sometimes me). The name suited him, he was small but could unearth large piles of laundry, lithe but could bark loud to scare away cats or other dogs or strangers who wound up near the house.

My family has fond memories of Leon before we eventually gave him up. I want to remember the instances he would snuggle to my belly and stay still as I take photos of him. The way he slept like a cat, the way his incisors bit my fingers, the sardines in his breath, the bedlam he created while taking baths, the wagging little tail as he followed me around the house.

That was how I remember and will always remember Leon. Before he finally succumbed to sleep today, I wish I could have moved my fingers around the smooth soft spot under his neck. He would have loved that.

See: Welcome Home, Leon!