When my dad retired 6 years ago, my sister Lora bought him a dog. I don’t get to see him often here in Hong Kong, neither do I keep one in Singapore. The things that my dog does never cease to surprise me. He is able to fetch slippers for each individual family members when we return home. When my sister fell asleep at night by the sofa while waiting for the water to be heated, my dog would wake her up gently with his paws. If any of us stay out late, my dog waits at the door. He opens the kitchen gate for my mother when my mother takes the dishes back to the kitchen after the meal. He seems to be able to comprehend phone conversation (my sister just called home from Singapore and he dashed to the door thinking that my sister was at the door). When he learns that my mother may travel to Singapore to visit me over the phone, he gets depressed. When he knows that he is in deep trouble (such as dashing out of the apartment in a spur of the moment when the door is opened or destroying toilet rolls while nobody is at home), he would hide underneath the sofa or dining table and keep quiet … and many more. I know dogs are men’s best friends. But I would not have imagined that dogs can be that intelligent.
There is one thing I do know about my dog is that every time when one or all of us leave home, he barks and screams as though we are leaving him for good and he even goes to the extend of blocking the doorway hoping that none of us would leave the apartment. At times he cries when he sees us dragging the luggage out of the apartment. Before my sister left home for the airport just days ago, she was taking pictures of my dog and towards the end of the photo session, he knew that my sister was leaving soon and he went depressed. At first, I wonder why such a big fuss when someone is leaving the apartment? Then I think, perhaps he is unsure of when we will come back. For instance, my dog will not know that I am leaving for good tomorrow (or later today) and only to come back next year, maybe. If the saying of one man year equals to seven dog years is true, my dog will only see me after seven dog years.
That triggers me to look back at all my friends and acquaintances whom I have now lost contact with or whom have left due to the frailty of life, there exists a time when we say the last goodbye. It is melancholy in a way as at that very moment when we casually say goodbye, we wouldn’t have known that that was the last time we say goodbye. Perhaps each time we say goodbye can potentially be the last time we see each other. Sometimes we knew that we probably won’t see each other but we have this hope that our paths will cross again. What I learn from my dog is perhaps some goodbyes are more significant than others and we may not aware of that at those moments of biding farewells.
It is hard not to feel that way when my dog does that to me every time I leave home. One thing for sure, I am going to miss him when I fly back to Singapore on the New Year Eve.
