A recent trip to the pet shop brought me through a nostalgic journey as compared to my usual squirms and grins upon the sight of the numerous eye-candies (the pet puppies on sale that is).
It was about 12 years ago when I was a mere 8 year old. I still remember rushing off after tuition class that fateful night as we were expecting some visitors at home. My aunt had mentioned a few days ago that her friends had a puppy for sale. My family jumped at the chance and asked if we could take a look at the puppy. What we thought was just a simple ‘puppy viewing’ and its ensued pending considerations soon turned out to be a life-changing experience.
There he lay, fixated at the door of the master bedroom and enjoying the cold breeze escaping from the bedroom through the small gap between the floor and the door. He was 5 months old or so they said (till today, we never knew his true age or even date of birth). I ran up to him gently scooping him up with my two hands and he fitted snugly in my hands. That was how small he was.
He had no certificate of authentication, no date of birth and worst of all, no definite breed. He looked like the puppy of a golden retriever yet there were distinct qualities that proved our acquisition wrong. He wasn’t as golden to begin with and somehow the texture of his fur differed from that of a golden retriever. Being an 8 year old, having a pet puppy was a luxury or rather a “novelty” and there was no way I was letting this puppy go. I must say for most things that I have asked for, my dad will always give in to me. This time was no exception. The adults talked for a while and soon reached an agreement. My dad signed the cheque and that was how we became the proud owners of this breed-less mutt.
Giving him a name was an easy task. We spilled out as many names we could think off, a few cheesy ones too. Finally, this mutt responded when the name “Ryan” was said. And Ryan he was.
Raising a Puppy was tough on us. Our barely one year old house was destroyed by this little creature. His pee caused the metal railings in the backyard to rust. His claws dug deep into the new leather sofa. And it seemed like chewing wood trimmings off the wall was a new found hobby for Ryan. My mom would shriek at the sight of her newly destroyed furniture. The mutt got away with a hard spank. Years past and soon Ryan grew tired of these “hobbies”.
As compared to other dogs, Ryan went through much more “adventures” if I could say. He suffered from head sores which were so bad they covered almost his whole head. This was derived from the fact that when the family was on holiday, the maid decided to go partying too therefore locked the poor little mutt in a no-ventilation-stuffy-warm-dark store room. Eventually, the mutt survived and the maid, gone.
Other than that minor tragedy, there have been times where Ryan would sneak out the backdoor, take the lift down and go for a walk on his own. To our relief, a neighbor found him familiar and brought him home. Other “adventures” include being bitten by a stray dog, jumping into a pond for a swim, peeing in peoples’ houses, peeing on people and best of all, peeing on me; his loving owner.
Not just a pet, Ryan grew to be a part of the family over the years. Everyone loved him. He had no dog smell. He did not shed fur and he was the perfect size; medium sized. None of us have ever seen a dog similar to that of Ryan. Till today, we are still clueless as to what breed he really was. He was like a friend to me. There were times when I was feeling down and sad and I would just sit there and cry with Ryan by my side. He would sit next to me obediently and not make a sound at all as though lending me a shoulder to cry on without probing what the matter is.
At the age of 12 (estimation), Ryan still seemed to be rather agile for his age. His sight, hearing and movement all seemed fine. All was well till one day when Ryan fell ill. We brought him to the vet and fed him medicine. He seemed to get better but after a week, it seemed like the sickness came back. It was one night during CNY 2006. I was the last one awake in the house and was watching TV when Ryan came beside and seemed to be gasping for air. I fed him the medicine and thought that everything would be fine and decided to head for bed. It was a decision I regret till today. I should have stayed downstairs with him that night had I known. Or I should have brought him up with me to sleep.
The next morning was chaotic. I remember my dad shouting my name and waking me up. His words to me were “Ryan’s gone”. I sat up in bed still trying to catch my thoughts. For a moment I thought my mutt had ran out of the house. Then it hit me. I ran out to see my dad and my maid gathered at the parapet linking the first and second storey. And then I saw Ryan’s lifeless body laying there, blood stained the hair around his mouth, his body cold and stiff. I imagined him trying to climb up to one of us but only made it halfway. The thought still haunts me today. I remember crying so loudly my mom jolted out of bed wondering which mad woman it was.
In my life, the only time I saw my Dad cried was at my grandfather’s funeral. But it wasn’t as bad as this. He was calling out Ryan’s name and tearing at the same time. It was such a heart wrenching sight. My dad used to tell people “Every time when I come home from work, my children won’t greet me; only my dog would.”
The drive to the animal hospital for Ryan’s cremation was a tough one. Not a word was spoken throughout the whole journey; only tears flowed. Group cremation or individual the nurse asked. “Individual” I said to my dad.
Today, Ryan lies not only in our hearts but in a little blue urn that we have placed on a counter in my house. Ryan was one of a kind. Even my mother who’s not really an animal love agrees that there’s no other dog like Ryan. He brought us joy, tears, anger and a relationship that will forever be cherished.
Sadly, after the demise of Ryan the mutt, no dog has taken my interest. I have lost my liking for mutts. Even if I see a cute one, I’d just smile and walk away. Even when people suggest getting a new dog, I would dismiss the idea. It’s like losing a loved one and then replacing him/her after that. Some things are just not replaceable.
And for as long as God knows when, Ryan will be the only dog I would ever have.
XOXO,
TGND
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