Let me get this straight, until today, I didn’t know her name.

I saw her almost everyday, on my way to the bus stop and on my way back home.

She was old and her fur was falling out, so we could see the pink patches on her body. My sister and I jokingly referred to her as Rabie-baby, because we’d initially thought she was rabid.

Far from that. Jackey was a peaceful and beautiful dog who kept to herself and slept outside an apartment  and drank water the watchman of a nearby apartment gave.

All the shopkeepers around that sphere knew her and she was a permanent fixture in that part of the road.

Today, the road looks very empty. It’s because Jackey wasn’t there today. Instead, there were two posters announcing her death.

She’d died because of the recklessness of some fool of a driver.

Admitted she was old, but that is no way for any dog of any  age to die. .  .

I felt, and I still feel so so sad. Jackey was unconsciously a part of my daily life. All my memories of that road have her in it.  . . And I sure hope that she lives on at least as a beautiful memory in not just mine,  but everyone who knew her’s lives too.

I hope dog heaven is all you want it to be.



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