He named the dog Chirulin.
Whenever I visited my grandfather, he preferred being alone, avoiding interaction with others. I changed that by introducing him to a small dog I had rescued. He named it ‘Chirulin,’ and they quickly became inseparable, enjoying activities like sunbathing, eating, walking, and watching TV together.
When my grandfather fell ill, he wrote me a letter with instructions on caring for ‘Chirulin’ in case he didn’t make it, even including a special soup recipe for the dog. I found myself wishing for a recipe on how to live without him.
He entrusted ‘Chirulin’ to our family, and when he returned home from the hospital, we brought the dog to him. He hugged Chirulin tightly and said, “We need to hurry and do all the things we’ve left to do together; there’s not much time,” laughing as he pulled out a list of activities for them.
His bond with the dog showed how much they loved each other. To those who say pets are “just animals,” I’d say, “Animals are a gift for the soul, teaching us love that unites.”
The next day, Grandpa put on his old hat and whistled for Chirulin, who excitedly ran over. They went to a bakery where Grandpa had once bought bread daily, reconnecting with an old friend. Then, they fed the ducks at the park, and Grandpa reflected on how the world still had much to offer.
Over the next weeks, they visited the seaside, spent afternoons on the porch, and even danced at an old hall. But his strength faded, and one evening, as Chirulin lay beside him, Grandpa said, “I think I’ve done everything. But there’s one more thing.”
He gave me a small box, asking me to open it when the time came. Two weeks later, he passed away peacefully with Chirulin by his side.
Inside the box was a letter:
“My dear one,
If you’re reading this, I’ve gone ahead. Don’t be sad for too long. Life is meant to be lived, not mourned. I’ve left you my greatest treasure—my memories, my love, and Chirulin.
Here’s my recipe:
Love deeply. Even when it hurts. Love anyway. Laugh often. Laughter will always be your shield. Forgive. Carrying anger is like drinking poison. Take walks. Alone, with a friend, with a dog—it doesn’t matter. Be kind. You never know what silent battles others are fighting. Don’t fear goodbyes. They’re just another way of saying, ‘I’ll see you in another form.’ Live well, and take care of Chirulin.
With all my love, Grandpa”
Tears blurred my vision, but I smiled. The sadness would never fully go away, but neither would the love.
Chirulin pawed at my leg, and I whispered, “Alright, buddy, let’s go for a walk.” Because life, as Grandpa showed me, was meant to be lived.