Our dog, Spot

This is our dog, a mix breed of Labrador and Jack Russell. We call him Spot. Spot became part of our family in 1998 when my son, Chenny was in his last year of the primary school.

Chenny had asked me for a dog well before 1998. Knowing that having a dog means a lot of responsibility and daily care, I turned his request down many times. Once, he raised the same dog issue again, in order to shut him up, I bought him a dog, an electronic one. This electronic dog only made him happy for a couple of weeks. The desire for a real dog never had disappeared from his mind.

One weekend mid day in October 1998, while we were passing by a business area in car, Chenny saw a child walking a dog. His constant desire for a dog erupted at that moment. As usual, I refused by telling him reasons why we should not own a dog. But this did not work. He began to cry. My mother, sitting in the passenger seat, saw her beloved grandson crying, urged me to nod my head. I knew this dog issue had to be settled this time.

We went to a pet shop, but there were no dogs. The owner said we could buy dog from the classified advertisement section of the newspaper. Chenny was then smiling but still quite anxious. So we bought a paper and drove home immediately to call up the dog breeders and made inquiries.

By the time we were going through the advertisement, we saw all sorts of dog breeds listed on the paper. We only knew that each breed had its unique character, but after all, which was the most suitable to Chenny and our family? Being anxious to get his own dog, Chenny said: “just get any dog!” At that moment, the Telecom icon, a very cute Jack Russell dog called Spot, came up my mind. I said to Chenny: “how about buying a Telecom dog because it is medium in size, and it is clever?” “Yes, any dog! Let’s make phone call now!” He replied.

I called the first breeder under the Jack Russell section. A lady answered my call. We negotiated on the price. Got her address and route instruction, and there we hopped onto the car and headed toward the breeder’s place, Western part of Auckland while we were at the Northern part.

When we finally arrived at the breeder’s place, a rather small Jack Russell dog ran up the driveway to see us. It looked very impressively smart. I thought that was the dog we were going to take home, but the owner said it was the mother. We were showed the way to the back yard where we saw two puppies were playing fighting energetically to each other. The owner said that were the only remainder of the 7 puppies born by the bitch we saw just now.

Chenny was showing a bright big smiley face staring at the puppies. “Which one do you like?” asked the owner, “one is a boy and the other is a girl.” “I want to get that boy as I am a boy.” The owner handed the male puppy to Chenny. The puppy seemed to be very happy with Chenny’s affection; it sniffed all over his chest, and even tried to climb up to sniff his face. On the way home, its name had been decided. He was named after the Telecom icon, Spot.

It was already getting dark by the time we arrived home. Where were we going to keep Spot? Seeing him walking all over the place and beginning to shit on the carpet, I realized that the first thing he needed was a bed in a confined area in the basement. So despite the dinner was ready, I set off to build a 2 metre by 2 metre confinement using the board from a wooden case.

Lacking of experience in raising a dog, I had been busy with Spot for the following few weeks. First I found that I didn’t take his growth into account. The confinement was built too low that one week after his arrival, he could easily escape from his area. So I extended the height, but 3 weeks later he demonstrated his skill of climbing over the confinement wall. So I built a gate in the BBQ area and kept Spot out there.

His new area was big for him to run about and play with Chenny. But one night at about 12 O’clock, he barked furiously for some reason. I had to get up to check. He stood against the retainer wall barking at the direction where I saw a round pile of something about 2 metres away. When I touched it, my finger tips were jabbed by needle like thorns. It was a hedgehog. So I went to garage to get a bag and moved the hedgehog to other part of the garden. This kind of scenario repeated about a dozen times before winter arrived and I rearranged a place in the basement for Spot to spend his night.

I did regret buying Spot because of all the hassles. However, he did have brought us some security and happiness. One mid night, he barked furiously toward outside of the basement where we hang clothes under the car port when weather was not so stable. I commanded him to be quiet, but he would not. So I came down to check, turned the light on. I found nothing wrong. Next morning, my wife found a couple of Chenny’s T-shirts were missing from the clothing lines. We then realized why Spot barked so furiously last night. The second time Spot just scared off the thief with his loud barking.

On every Thursday night, every household in our area is supposed to put their rubbish bag or wheelie bin out on the roadside for the truck to collect or clear. My property has a long and slop up driveway. So I have to struggle with pushing the wheelie bin up the drive way once a week. One night, I had an idea of getting Spot’s help in pulling the bin up the drive way. I secure the leash on the handle of the bin while my hands firmly hold on the handle. When this was ready, I tilt the bin on the wheels and commanded “Let’s go Spot!” You know what? Upon hearing “Let’s go!”, he turned his face forward, his tail erected high up, put all the strength he had on his four legs, and pulled enthusiastically all the way to the road side. And I only needed to steer the bin at the right direction.

Time flies. Spot is now over 8 years old, equivalent to 56 years of human age. He is more matured now, not as neurotic and restless as before. By October he will be turning 9 years old, and become the oldest in my family in terms of life span. I realize one day we will separate from each other for our own reincarnation. So I teach him this sound “Amitofo” which contains Buddha’s vow of receiving the soul of the being whoever recites “Amitofo”. Interestingly, each time I do this ritual before him, he always stares at me with a wondering facial expression as if saying to me: “Mate, what are you talking about?”