My own Scooby Doo
It’s all about believing in a second chance, not superstition, writes Loong Wai Ting
WHEN Fifi, my white toy poodle, died 12 years ago from an illness, I promised not to get another furkid. It was just too painful to watch your best friend, your companion, lying among a heap of towels and cloth, waiting for the day to come. And I was strongly against euthanasia so having to put Fifi to sleep was definitely out of the question.
Perhaps the universe understood the pain and sorrow that my family and I went through because she sent another angel to our family, a black toy poodle. We named him Ah Bu. Perhaps one was not enough and the universe sent us another one. And thus began the story of little Paico, a lovable mongrel who became part of the family five years ago.
It was a sunny Sunday morning as I made my way to my car after a morning workout at a school. As I got in and started the ignition, a car in front of me did the same. In his haste to get away, he forgot to check underneath his vehicle before driving away. The area where the school is located is a place where stray dogs love sleeping under cars.
Just as the car in front of me started to pull out from its parking lot, sounds of yelping came from underneath it. The car appeared to be going up and down as if running over a speed bump. Uneasy, I decided to check to see whether something was amiss. To my and the driver’s surprise, a brown puppy, its eyes barely open, was twitching on the ground and screaming its little puppy lungs out.
There was no blood anywhere but one of the puppy’s hind legs looked dislocated. It felt limp, soft and lifeless. The poor driver looked helpless and mumbled something unintelligible under his breath. It felt like ages before the driver actually said something. “I can’t care for this poor pup. Maybe you want to take it home instead?” he said, looking at me. I had no other choice. Should I just leave it there and allow it to fend for itself against the other big dogs and kids? I couldn’t do it.
With a heavy heart, I scooped the poor fella up onto my lap, checked on its legs again and brought it back into my car. It was a silent drive home. There was no sound nor any movement from the pup. Well, this might be it, I thought to myself. “Hang in there, little buddy,” I kept telling it over and over again.
Once I reached home, I did another round of checks on the pup. I breathed a sigh of relief as I noted its calm breathing. It was curled-up on the car mat except for its oddly-splayed legs. Mum wasn’t particularly happy about keeping the pup due to superstition. Two dogs meant bad luck. The shape of two dogs’ mouth is similar to the word ku or cry in Chinese. But I am not one who gives in easily to superstitious nonsense.
My sister and I got into a routine of caring for Paico, whom she named after her favourite TVB actor, who coincidentally played a character who limped his way around after getting into a gang fight.
Paico showed signs of recovery: he was eating on his own and even played with Ah Bu despite his limited movement. It was almost like watching a small kid playing with a kid twice its size. It was funny and heart-rending all the same.
A month passed and Paico had problems standing on all fours. He could only crawl from one place to another. Its left hind leg felt soft and limp. My sister and I took turns to massage its little leg and taught it to stand and walk on all fours using a towel roped underneath its belly. It felt like controlling a string puppet. Another month passed and Paico showed signs of recovery. He started to stand on its own albeit a little wobbly at first. Sis and I were overjoyed.
NEVER A DULL MOMENT
Five years have passed and little Paico is not that little anymore. Today, he’s as heavy and big as a 5-year-old when he stands up. He eats, no, gobbles up his food in record time. He drinks sloppily, letting the excess water drool from the corner of his flabby mouth and onto the floor, and sometimes onto our lap. Paico couldn’t care less what you thought of him or how he should behave in front of guests. With Paico, it’s always a case of “I am, therefore I am”.
Many have remarked about his amazing resemblance to Scooby-Doo, a popular character from the animated cartoon franchise of the same name. Like Scooby, Paico is afraid of almost everything, including the garbage truck, lightning, firecrackers and the good ‘ol laundry basket. But Paico is also an advocate for healthy eating. He absolutely loves eating papayas, mangoes, apples (I can watch him eat apples all day), and even oranges.
With Paico around there’s never a dull day. Laughter abounds whenever he’s around entertaining us with his funny antics and silly faces. One of my favourites is when he bites the top of his lips. People have often commented how lucky Paico is to have us and what a good, loyal dog he is. But to us, Paico is not any dog. He’s family.
Oh yes, he has an Instagram account: @ iampaico. Check it out!
Paico couldn’t care less what you thought of him or how he should behave in front of guests. With Paico, it’s always a case of “I am, therefore I am”.