Lucky the Boxer
There are many sayings one hears and learns through life and we wonder how that came about. "Lucky" my boxer was my best friend; so I can claim that a dog is truly a man's best friend. Lucky was a gift to my parents when we shifted to our new home; 466, England Garden, Seremban in 1972. He came in a box and was the gift from the local fish monger whom my policeman dad helped many times.
He came to us less than a month old and was a handful, energetic puppy, black mask, brown hair with white chest and all. Since he was our first family pet, dad fed him with 7-seas cod liver oil, nestum cereal and eggs for breakfast. Boy, was he pampered during the early months. And as he grew, we fed him beef cutlets which proved too salty and he shed his hair. It was a funny sight!
I cannot remember who recommended this cure of coconut oil and sulphur mix that was dabbed on to his bald skin but the duty of this daily treatment fell to me. From then on, Lucky was my best friend. I remember many moments with Lucky and I hope to be able to pen as much as I can recall for the best friend who never judged me, the best friend who cried with me (I saw his tears), the best friend who came to me when I called and needed to be with, the best friend who though "silent" somehow made me feel he understood how I felt and was there for me.
Even now, more than 25 years since he went to dog's heaven, I laugh, cried, smiled and wonder when I think of him. Nostalgia does funny things to us, especially when there are more happy and memorable moments than sad ones. Never mind that he pulled all of mum's favorite orchid, sis-in-law's potted rose plants, overturned the garbage every other night, came back nose bloody after a fight with the neighbour's cat, got poisoned and stabbed in the belly by a Muslim neighbour who hates dog. I fondly remember Lucky as the fierce looking coward who shakes in genuine fear under the kitchen table at the clap of thunder and also the only dog that fainted when I got water into his nostrils. Hahaha, did not mean to do it but mum always insist that we wash our mouth after a meal and Lucky did not get exceptional treatment; it was my duty.
Lucky loved kids. I was worried when he was 1 year old and my youngest sister was born. We were concerned whether Lucky would harm her out of jealousy but he was faithful and protective of her.
Lucky was always kept within our compound but sometimes he would run out and it would be difficult to get him to come back. Even then, there were not many dogs where we lived and Lucky was a virgin, as far as I could tell. One fine day my brother had the bright idea of making some money by taking Lucky to have a "good time". I did not follow but when my brother related what happened, we nearly pee in our pants. It seems my virgin Lucky went for the village goat instead of you know who.
I miss you buddy. I still dream of you, nightmares sometimes because in my dreams I forgot to feed you for a long period of time and yet you remained my best friend. I am sorry that I was not there when the vet needled you to lessen your sufferings. I am sorry that I did not know you needed deworming. I was always proud that you had your own birth certificate proving your pedigree; not knowing that also meant you were not as robust physically compared to a mix breed.
If I ever get another chance at it, it would be another Lucky for me, and definitely a boxer. Lucky, I love you. You brought the tender part out of me and you will always be in my heart and mind, always!
There are many sayings one hears and learns through life and we wonder how that came about. "Lucky" my boxer was my best friend; so I can claim that a dog is truly a man's best friend. Lucky was a gift to my parents when we shifted to our new home; 466, England Garden, Seremban in 1972. He came in a box and was the gift from the local fish monger whom my policeman dad helped many times.
He came to us less than a month old and was a handful, energetic puppy, black mask, brown hair with white chest and all. Since he was our first family pet, dad fed him with 7-seas cod liver oil, nestum cereal and eggs for breakfast. Boy, was he pampered during the early months. And as he grew, we fed him beef cutlets which proved too salty and he shed his hair. It was a funny sight!
I cannot remember who recommended this cure of coconut oil and sulphur mix that was dabbed on to his bald skin but the duty of this daily treatment fell to me. From then on, Lucky was my best friend. I remember many moments with Lucky and I hope to be able to pen as much as I can recall for the best friend who never judged me, the best friend who cried with me (I saw his tears), the best friend who came to me when I called and needed to be with, the best friend who though "silent" somehow made me feel he understood how I felt and was there for me.
Even now, more than 25 years since he went to dog's heaven, I laugh, cried, smiled and wonder when I think of him. Nostalgia does funny things to us, especially when there are more happy and memorable moments than sad ones. Never mind that he pulled all of mum's favorite orchid, sis-in-law's potted rose plants, overturned the garbage every other night, came back nose bloody after a fight with the neighbour's cat, got poisoned and stabbed in the belly by a Muslim neighbour who hates dog. I fondly remember Lucky as the fierce looking coward who shakes in genuine fear under the kitchen table at the clap of thunder and also the only dog that fainted when I got water into his nostrils. Hahaha, did not mean to do it but mum always insist that we wash our mouth after a meal and Lucky did not get exceptional treatment; it was my duty.
Lucky loved kids. I was worried when he was 1 year old and my youngest sister was born. We were concerned whether Lucky would harm her out of jealousy but he was faithful and protective of her.
Lucky was always kept within our compound but sometimes he would run out and it would be difficult to get him to come back. Even then, there were not many dogs where we lived and Lucky was a virgin, as far as I could tell. One fine day my brother had the bright idea of making some money by taking Lucky to have a "good time". I did not follow but when my brother related what happened, we nearly pee in our pants. It seems my virgin Lucky went for the village goat instead of you know who.
I miss you buddy. I still dream of you, nightmares sometimes because in my dreams I forgot to feed you for a long period of time and yet you remained my best friend. I am sorry that I was not there when the vet needled you to lessen your sufferings. I am sorry that I did not know you needed deworming. I was always proud that you had your own birth certificate proving your pedigree; not knowing that also meant you were not as robust physically compared to a mix breed.
If I ever get another chance at it, it would be another Lucky for me, and definitely a boxer. Lucky, I love you. You brought the tender part out of me and you will always be in my heart and mind, always!
posted by Lucky at 7:18 AM
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