Missing You

story by Eva Chang

illustrations by Eva Chang and Yi-ju Cheng

I still don’t understand why a lifetime for other animals than humans is so short. Humans can live more than seventy years while dogs live at most 15 years. It’s not fair at all!

  I had lived with my grandma in Taichung until eight years old. In my childhood, I had only one playmate. He was a black dog half a year older than me. My grandma and I called him “Goofy.”

  We had known each other since I was born. When I was a baby, we played fetch all the time because I still couldn’t walk. I just sat there, threw the ball and waited for him to bring it back to me. As a puppy, he was so full of energy that he could run for the whole morning without taking a rest. His hair was sleek and supple; I loved fondling him and smelling the fresh scent after he rolled in the grass. His legs were so powerful that he could jump high into the air. His teeth were so sharp that he could rip apart the meat easily. He always lifted his tail high, which made him look vital. I felt like the luckiest little girl in the world with the company of such a cute dog.

  As he grew up, I found him to be less lively. So I started to take him for a walk from time to time. Different from other dogs, he didn’t need anything like a collar. If he wanted to play, I would stand there and wait for him. And when I called his name, he would come immediately. There was a kind of mutual understanding between us. He never made me worry about him except once.

On that day when I was five, we were out for a walk. I thought he was right after me, but when I looked back, there was no one. At first, I was too shocked to react. Then I started to shout his name. “Goofy? Where are you? Don’t play hide-and-seek with me; it’s not fun at all. Goofy!” However, there was still no response. I looked everywhere for him, but I had no clue where he was. Feeling lost and helpless, I decided to go home and asked for help. When I got home, I heard a powerful, familiar bark, and then, a figure that I had been searching for appeared in front of me. “Where have you been?” he barked, though I did not understand what he wanted to express. “Why did you run away without telling me? You are such a bad dog!” As I reproached him, I saw innocence in his eyes. Then he licked me, as a way to make peace. How could I get angry with such an intelligent and spiritual animal? This incident made me realize how important he was to me—I couldn’t live happily without him.

At the age of eight, I moved to Taipei with my parents. That means I had to leave Goofy. We bid farewell in a simple way. I went back to Taichung almost every month to visit my grandma and Goofy, but I was worried about him because of his physical condition. After all, a dog ages faster than human beings. Since I was not able to turn back time, the only thing I could do was cherish the moments I spent with him.

When I saw him last summer, we spent a whole month together. At first I could hardly recognize Goofy because he became much older than I could ever imagine. He couldn’t walk, let alone stretch his legs. Nor could he lift his tail high. His teeth became so weak that he couldn’t bite meat by himself. Most of his hair turned gray. What was worse, his hearing deteriorated, so he couldn’t hear me call him. 

“What can I do? Is he going to leave me?” Question marks filled my mind. I just couldn’t picture days without Goofy. I could only come to one conclusion: my life without him would be so empty. 

“So what am I going to do now? “I muttered to myself.

“Maybe you can spend more time with him. I think he will be happy in your company.” I heard a familiar sound behind me. Grandma came just in time. 

“Thank you grandma.” I gave her a tight hug for offering me such a wise suggestion. 

From then on, I was with Goofy every afternoon. He wasn’t as full of life as before. It didn’t matter though, because I just wanted him to be happy, like what he used to do for me. We did many things together, I mean, I did many things for Goofy to watch.

Much as I tried, certain things were inevitable. I would never forget that day. It was at night. I was excited because I found something interesting I wanted to share with Goofy. I walked to the garden calling his name. No reply. As I walked farther, my foot kicked something, something which was soft. Then I looked down, only to find a familiar body lying there. “Goofy…?” I was so astounded that I couldn’t help trembling. Yet I didn’t weep or break down. I just crouched there silently for a long time. Or maybe for only two minutes. Then I jumped suddenly in horror as if there were a wolf chasing after me. I ran as fast as I could. My head was blank.

“Grandma! Come! I need your help!” I dragged her to the “crime scene” nervously. “What’s wrong with him? He will be OK, right?” 

After a while, Grandma looked into my eyes and said, “He won’t be willing to see you sad because he has become a sweet dog angel.”

My sadness turned into tears, falling down my cheeks. Recalling the happy time we shared all these years, I couldn’t help but cry even louder. It was too hard for me to accept Goofy’s death since I had been used to the days with him. I kept thinking, “How can he leave me?” After crying for a while, I still wept without stopping. In a moment, I felt so weak because all my strength had turned into water, flowing out of my body.

The next morning, Grandma and I buried my best dog friend. We dug a hole which was big enough to fit Goofy. I watched his body sluggishly, put his toys and pictures into that hole silently. It was time to let go.

Goofy’s death is certainly a challenging lesson for a sixteen-year-old girl like me. Though I’m still learning to accept death as part of life, at least there is something I should feel glad about—overwhelming as death is, it cannot take away the beautiful memories between Goofy and me.