My diva dog, Chai Chai

At my age (33, for those keeping track), I am no longer a believer in love at first sight. But that notion flew out the window the moment I met a small, trembling Pomeranian puppy with the most beguiling eyes. When I was told that he was the clumsiest in his litter, I was sold – after all, who could be clumsier than this scribe?  

Being a typical Chinaman, I decided to call him Chai Chai. The moniker means son (in the Cantonese dialect) as well as wealth (in Hokkien).  

Kee and Chai Chai.

On the first night at my house, Chai Chai was a perfect angel despite warnings that puppies separated from their mother would experience separation anxiety. He just slept his way through the first night, with nary a peep. What an angel, I thought, but boy was I wrong, for that innocent-looking pup has grown up into a loud, mischievous lad. 

Chai Chai celebrates his first birthday on Oct 31. Yes, he is a Halloween baby, which perhaps explains why he is such a devil. He is a rascal, but thanks to his awfully cute disposition, he gets away with murder most of the time.  

It is my fault, I know, for spoiling him, so now he has become a diva who follows no rules. He has inherited my impatience and bad temperament, for when he wants his food, he has to have it NOW, no compromise. 

I call him a monster because he likes to “attack” my face without warning, licking me with such ferocity you’d think my mug was a nice bone. In the car, he commands the back seat; no one else can share the seat.  

Every morning when I wake up, there will be something in the house that has inevitably been chewed to bits – the newspaper, a piece of furniture, etc. So it’s become a routine, for me to survey the home every morning for the “disaster” zone, where he has chewed something beyond recognition or made it his official toilet. 

After Chai Chai, I have had no need for an alarm clock. He wakes me up at 7.30am sharp every morning – even on weekends.  

His wake-up call tactic: first, soft whining by the bed, then he will proceed to lick my hands. Failing to get a reaction, he will jump on the bed and lick my face, as if to say: “Get up, lazybones!”  

As soon as I have done my “duty” feeding him, Chai Chai will curl up and go to sleep. 

He is relentless and always excitable. The slightest noise eg. me opening an envelope, will have him running up to investigate, being very kaypoh (nosey) by nature.  

The vet recently commented that he is way too hyper and has prescribed a calming herbal pet product.  

We have increased the dosage, but to no avail, as Chai Chai still charges through the house as if his tail were on fire. And if there is food involved, not even a 10- foot wall could stop him. 

His favourite activity is sniffing and poking his nose into the tiniest of spaces – I am amazed his snout hasn’t become stuck by now.  

He is also the world’s friendliest dog, bouncing up to dogs on the street itching to play with them. Despite his small size, he is undaunted by mutts bigger than him, and will almost bully them into submission.  

People who meet him for the first time often exclaim: “Awww, so cute”. But after 15 minutes, they inevitably back away as Chai Chai shows his true nature. In fact, Chai Chai has been “banned” from two friends’ homes because he would tire out their dogs from playing. (His codename: The terrorist.) 

But at the end of the day, nothing beats the sight of him barking, running around in circles and almost tripping over himself in excitement when I reach the front door after work.  

No matter how bad my day has been, this little dog makes it better. I love him for his relentless joy and enthusiasm; from the moment he wakes up, he is a bundle of energy who is excited about anything and everything. 

Should we all not learn to be like him – deriving happiness from the smallest event?  

Okay, in Chai Chai’s case, it could be today’s newspaper ripe for the ripping, but you catch my drift. 

It is a lazy Sunday afternoon as I am writing this story’s conclusion. Chai Chai is in his favourite snoozing spot, beside my feet underneath the computer desk. 

He is curled up with his toy, a teddy bear which I gave him on his first night. Although the toy is now stinky, Chai Chai loyally and stubbornly remains attached to it. As he lies sleeping, he looks angelic, as when we first met, and I cannot help but sigh in the presence of his loveliness.  

Best of all, not a single piece of furniture has been destroyed today.