My three furkids are as different as can be from one another.
The first to enter our lives was Chester. He was adopted from Paws Animal Welfare Shelter and was personally picked out by my daughter some 13 years ago. He was merely four months old then.
When he stepped foot into our house for the very first time, he was very timid and cautious, sniffing about here and there before lying down on the blanket we had laid out for him.
He bonded with my family members quickly enough, and especially loved going for walks with my daughter. She trained him to obey commands such as sit, come, stay, and lie down.
When we moved to our new house about a year later, he seemed fine at first, but after several weeks he reverted to destructive behaviour – chewing slippers and shoes – something that he had not done for some time. Perhaps it was due to boredom; perhaps he needed a companion.
Some months later, my daughter and I came across a stray dog in the park. The pitiful-looking dog was rummaging about for food scraps but it didn’t look like she had much luck. She was all skin and bones, and I could see the bone segments of her tail!
I had never seen that dog in our neck of the woods before, so I concluded that she might’ve been used in a puppy mill (judging from her pronounced teats), and then dumped.
When I looked at her, her eyes immediately captivated me with their lucidity. They sparkled like golden-brown jewels that seemed to say, “I’m a good girl. Please take me home with you!”
The other people in the park, when we passed one another, also remarked about the dog’s expressive eyes.
My daughter pleaded with me to get the dog to follow us home. I didn’t have to try hard at all! I merely made some clicking sounds, as I beckoned to the dog. With tail wagging and tongue lolling, the friendly dog happily tagged along, much to my daughter’s delight!
We fed her, gave her a bath, and the next day, took her to the vet’s. Apart from malnutrition, he said, the dog was in good health. He estimated her to be about two years old.
We named the dog Maisie, and took good care of her. She began to fill out and look healthier.
The bonus was that Chester stopped his regressive behaviour from the day Maisie came to our home.
One fine day, a couple of months down the road, Maisie dashed out of the house when our auto gate was open. Even after an hour, there was still no sign of her.
Thoughts raced through our minds: perhaps she had been knocked down by a car. Or maybe she decided that she didn’t want to stay with us anymore.
So, when she did come home that night – panting and looking happy – we were all surprised.
As time went by, I noticed that she was growing rather rotund. Time to put her on a diet! So I halved her ration of food.
Weeks later, and she wasn't losing any weight at all.Suddenly it dawned on me that she could be pregnant. So I whisked her off to the vet’s for a check-up.
Sure enough, the vet confirmed that she was pregnant! The vet said she was a month along, and we could expect half a dozen puppies in a month’s time. Uh, oh!
The pups arrived early in the morning of Aug 6, 2010. It was an eye-opening experience for my daughter who watched the birth process in awe.
Those six beautiful puppies were of various colours: jet black, golden, grey, mocha. We planned to find new homes for them when they reached at least two months of age.
Taking care of Maisie and her pups was a lot of work but also very rewarding.
The puppies seemed to have the same internal alarm clock. They would wake up at about the same time, suckle at the same time, pee and poop at the same time, and fall sleep again at the same time.
As they grew older and suckled harder, poor Maisie had quite a challenging time, suckling them all simultaneously.
Maisie was an attentive and protective mother, and watched over her brood like a hawk.
Our family watched the pups grow and develop over the weeks. It was a joy to see them open their eyes for the first time, then learn to walk, and also instinctively gravitate towards their mother’s teats during feeding time.
The golden furry had blue eyes, and the grey one had light grey eyes, while the rest of the litter had golden-brown eyes like Maisie’s.
Caring for the little ones involved a lot of cleaning and changing of newspapers in their enclosure. As the pups grew older, too, we supplemented their mother’s milk with special milk powder for pups, and fed them from tiny bottles.
The puppies provided endless entertainment for us, with their cuteness (especially when they were sleeping and “dreaming” and their tiny paws were twitching) and antics (climbing over one another to snuggle up with their mother).
So, it was with mixed emotions when it was time to give them away after they had turned two months old. However, we kept the black puppy and named it Cougar.
When he was older, he developed the habit of licking his mother’s face and ears with such tenderness, and she’d happily let him do that. It seemed to bring Maisie some comfort and delight, after the pain of being separated from her other pups.
Maisie is one tough cookie. She is about 15 years old now, and has been through a lot in her life. She survived abandonment, a stroke that totally immobilised her during one Chinese New Year (and my daughter and I had to administer drips to her at home, and turn her every three hours so that she wouldn’t develop sores), being attacked by an aggressive male dog in the park, and a hit-and-run accident.
Cougar, being the “pup” of the family, loved being the centre of attention – and affection. He was always the first to greet us with happy howls when we returned home after being away. He was also the first to come to us for cuddles. He knew he was greatly loved, and he loved us back a lot.
Maisie also loves being patted, and comes a close second when seeking attention. At times, when she is the first to come to us, Cougar would come beside her and upstage her! He always wanted to be the first in line to receive pats and cuddles.
Sad to say, Cougar passed away on Jan 31 due to liver disease.
With Cougar gone, Chester has somehow taken on the loving task of licking Maisie's face.
Maisie’s specialty is being an “alarm clock” – she would whine or howl when it’s time for dinner, a walk, or for her "bed" to be laid out at night. And she’s always on time. What a clever time-keeper.
At the time of writing, it’s almost 7.30pm – and already I can hear her howling, as if saying, “We're hungry! Feed us now!” So, if you will excuse me, dear reader, I must go now and tend to my darling dogs!
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