Welcome Home.

I froze when I got the phonecall.

“You say, what?… How did this happen? … Is he okay? Can he walk? What do you mean he needs surgery?”

At once, I wanted to be by his side, and tell him everything was going to be okay. I wanted to give him a big hug and tell him I was sorry I always acted so cool and nonchalant every time he expressed his love in such an unabashed manner towards me.

Roger had to be sent to the hospital to get stitches because a heck of a big monster dog attacked him, bit him and wouldn’t let go.

Roger is my dog. Even though I don’t usually talk about him, and even though I know I would’ve gotten a cat if it weren’t for my family’s hatred of feline creatures, I love him to bits.

The groomers had picked him up for his usual weekly grooming session. According to them, the dogs are usually left free to roam around the shop because each dog usually finds his own space and has enough sense to mind his own business or back off, especially if they sense a threat like a really big monster dog. Roger, being his usual friendly, curious self, says hello to everyone. The groomers said he went to say hello to the monster dog which was twice as tall and long as him, the monster dog got scared/offended/hysterical and so attacked. One surgery later, Roger was walking again, albeit with a limp.

This is the monster dog which bit Roger. If I see it ever again, I will… EAT IT.

The thing that never fails to amaze me, however, is Roger’s resilience. He’s not perfect- far from it. My elder sister, when she still stayed with us, used to call him “dumb dog” affectionately. When he was little, he used to barge around the house a lot in bursts of hyperactivity, crashing into furniture and toppling things over. Once, he ran so hard into a glass door he had to shake his head comically to regain his composure. We all agree he’s too curious for his own good, sniffing everything and anything, even dogs too big to make friends with.

But one thing I know, is that every time he gets into trouble, he bounces back up really quickly. Nothing gets him down for long. And even after a really hard smack and lecture from me after doing something wrong, he never fails to snuggle right back up to me to ask for forgiveness. I often give him the cold shoulder because one must be careful not to reward hyperactivity (which he is 98% of the time). I have to be very careful about when to be warm towards him so I don’t reinforce negative behaviour. Our helper bathes and walks you, my father pays for everything you need, and I… just keep you company, or vice versa rather. But when all of us call for you at the same time, you come to my side immediately. When we let you roam about the house, you always enter my room first, even if half the world is calling for your attention.

Once, I remember a friend drove over to my place specially to give me a bike decal sticker of my name to stick onto my bike. He was being nice, and you knew it. And you knew that my bike meant something to me. So when he walked into our living room, said hi to me and touched my bike, you bit him right there in the balls. I have never seen you so fiercely protective, except for that one time you bit the man with a LOUD BOOMING VOICE who came to fix our air-conditioning. But that’s okay, I think people ought not to speak in loud booming voices too. I should warn my future boyfriend about you, that he must pretend not to like me at all in your presence and not to speak in a LOUD BOOMING VOICE, because I keep forgetting, because of how small you are, that you’re a pure-bred guard dog.

So I’m just really glad you’re coming home today, finally. Because I really miss you. And I promise I won’t threaten to get a cat anymore every time you’re being naughty, because for all that’s happened, you’re still a really good dog.

Welcome home, Roger.

Photo of Roger taken by Gloria W on my birthday