Riki, 12 years old.

December 2, 2022.
As of this day, my Riki has turned 12 years old.

Once they pass the age of 10, I find myself thinking every year, "I wonder if we'll be able to celebrate next year's birthday safely."
And when we do reach that birthday safely, I feel happy, I feel a sense of relief, and I pray, "Please let me celebrate your birthday in good health again next year."

When my dogs and cats were young, I took it for granted that "next year" would come.
It's the same with humans.
I naturally assume that next year, their birthday will come around again.
Just because they are "young," I feel like there is a guarantee.
Of course, not all of my children (dogs and cats) have been like that.
Like my late dog Futa, who already had heart problems when I rescued him and was told by the vet that a seizure could happen at any time, or like my cat Suzu, who was born with disabilities and immune deficiencies.

The belief that "they are young, so they are safe; they are young, so they have a future" only holds true if they are also "healthy."
Even if they are young, if they are sickly or have underlying conditions, one naturally worries about their future.

Now that Riki is 12, I honestly cannot just happily wait for the day he turns 13 next year.
"Please, I beg of you."
That is the feeling with which I wait for Riki's 13th year.

At 12 years old, if he were a human child, he would be going from a sixth grader to a junior high student next year.
Having spent that much time together, there is no way I could think of him as "just a dog, just a pet."

Please, I implore you, I beg of you.

Please let this child stay in this world for a long time.

Please let me see him living his life for even one minute, one second longer.

Please let us be together.

He is my precious child.

I have known for a long time that he will depart before I do.

Even so, please. Please.

I pray with a desperate heart.

To Riki, the dog who changed my world,
Happy 12th birthday.