Maya

by Paula

Today my cousins brought home a husky they named Maya. For the past six days, Maya was chained to the parking lot gate at their father’s apartment: hungry, lifeless, and possibly abandoned. After a trip to the vet, it was clear that the puppy was sick. I am happy to report, however, that Maya has since received her medication and immune-enhancing shots and seems to be recovering just fine.

Along with the news of her rescue, I also learned that a pet shop/pet hotel recently lost a dog of the same breed. My younger cousin insisted that Maya was not the one they were looking for. She is younger and weighed less than the facts listed on the missing poster. My cousin has yet to call the pet shop and clarify whether or not Maya is the puppy they are looking for.

Is she abandoned? Or is she simply lost? While Maya would be a lovely addition to the five Thai dogs, two Jack Russells, and one golden retriever my extended family and I own collectively, a big part of me believes that she is the missing puppy. As a dog lover, it’s hard for me to imagine a heartless owner leaving a pet for good. It is even harder for me to imagine an owner’s loss if Maya, the potentially misplaced dog, was not returned.

My mind is a sea of what-ifs.

It is not my place to tell my cousin what to do, especially since I’ve already asked her, multiples times, to make sure that Maya is not the dog of the missing poster. What pains me most is knowing that if we do keep her, the trivial love my cousin and her sister have for all new pets will soon fade. Three of the Thai dogs, theirs, are now cared for by other people. I fear that they won’t be able to move past the superficial love of soft coats and unconditional licks. Maya needs a love that stems from proper care—one that includes showers, attention, and picking-up after—one that even I, at 22, am incapable of overseeing.

Maya keeps to herself as though waiting to be reunited with her former owner. Whatever the future for this puppy, I hope it a good one. At the end of the day, a life is a life, and I can only hope my cousins realize the immense responsibility to see one through till the end, with or without them in it.