I Can’t Remember

- Impromptu -

Meeko was our second dog.

Losing him was the most painful experience of my life. Didn’t get over it for years.

I don’t think about him too much these days. I feel guilty for not feeling guilty about it. I want to see what I can remember, even the things I'd rather forget.

I named him after the cartoon animal from Pocahontas.

The raccoon.

That’s what they called him in Chinese, when my wife and I saw him for the first time in that animal shelter in Taiwan.

Wanshong.

We thought Kasper was a bit lonely, that he needed a playmate. We thought adopting a rescue was a good idea, giving an abandoned dog a chance for a good life.

The reason I gravitated towards him was inexplicable. As soon as I saw him I wanted him.

That’s all.

When we made it official, the person at the shelter told me not to expect the same dog when we got back.

I told her I was prepared and that was the problem.

• • •

I only remember fleeting moments.

He hated my mother with a passion.

He could be out like a light but immediately sprang to attention whenever she walked by, emitting low growls. She was at the kitchen sink and suddenly felt a pinch at her calf. Looked down and saw Meeko. But his teeth were so senile her skin didn't even turn red.

He kept his distance.

From all dogs and most people. I could only temporarily close it, on those occasions his panic didn't set in.

Other than that, he was the easiest dog to take care of. Just needed a bed, some attention, two meals a day and plenty of treats.

Wasn't much of a playmate though. He was sort of, just, there. He and Kasper never fought, never interacted for that matter. And perhaps that made him an ideal companion.

Meeko weirdo, my wife affectionately called him.

In some photos his silhouette is a blur. Mistaking picture time for treats. Sudden convulsions, incessant panting.

I took Kasper and Meeko to a friend’s housewarming. Someone was in the garage, feeding them hot dog sausages.

'I like this one, but what the hell’s wrong with the other one?' he said, pointing to the one vibrating out of control.

I wasn’t mad when he said that, only thought that dogs are actually mirrors.

When it was too late, I realized I had been thinking the same thing.

When the health was failing, when the body was nothing but skin and bones.

When I could sense he was fading but couldn't accept it.

Didn't get over him for years. That’s how long it took to forgive myself.

• • •

Of all the moments, the one I remember the most is that first night he spent at our place.

Foreigner in a foreign land.

He must have been exhausted from the flight.

I was sitting on the couch, watching him get accustomed to his real home. He walked by. I bent over, gingerly picking him up.

His limbs were stiff. He shook nervously, but I kept holding him.

Within seconds he started snoring.

That was the last time he ever fell asleep in my arms. Either he never allowed it again or I didn’t try.

I can’t remember.