Search:The WebTripod

From Natalie Wen, Search and Directory Producer:

I have a dog of undetermined breed and indescribable appearance. She's kinda floppy, and I call her Sugar. She came into my life at what seemed to be the worst possible juncture. It was a time when I wondered if I could even manage to take care of my own life, let alone that of a small dog. Still, we've managed to get through the many obstacles and hurdles of the past year and a half together, and we've ended up in a pretty good place for both of us — Williamstown, MA. In retrospect, I think Sugar's arrival on my doorstep, and in my life, could not have come at a more perfect time.

We met in Hong Kong at the beginning of January, 1998. I had just ended a long and difficult relationship, and was looking forward to getting out of Hong Kong and back to North America as soon as possible. Sugar had been abandoned after what was probably an even worse relationship with her previous owners. We were both wrecks. One night around midnight I came home to my place in Chau Tau, my ancestral village near the border of China. There I discovered a tired, dirty, and scared little black and tan dog sitting on my steps. She had an old collar on, but no I.D. tags, so I figured she was lost. I brought her into the garden and fed her the only food I had — Campbell's Chunky Soup. She was exhausted. After she ate the soup, she crawled under a garden chair, curled up into a little ball, and fell asleep.

For the next few days, she lived in the garden while I tried to locate her owners. I reported her to all the local vets and to the RSPCA, but no one had heard of her. I didn't spend a lot of time with her in the beginning, mostly because my long commute to work left me with very little time at home. I bought her some dog food and tried to wash her with the garden hose, as best I could. I figured it was best for both of us for me to stay distant; her owners were bound to call soon and then she'd be gone. In the event that no one called, I knew I was leaving Hong Kong in a few months and didn't want to have a dog to worry about at the same time. I was doing some serious regrouping in my life, and having a dog to look after didn't seem like a responsibility I could handle at the same time. We kept on living like that for a few weeks, with feedings our only times of contact. When she wasn't eating, she slept.

Finally, after about six weeks of this, it was obvious that no one was coming to claim her. I began bringing pictures of her to work, trying to convince my friends and coworkers that they needed a dog in their lives. No one would bite. Hong Kong is not a dog-friendly environment. First, with the hours most people work, no one has time to take care of a pet. Second, the living spaces are generally too small to accommodate dogs. I was beginning to get desperate. Plus, the idea of leaving Sugar with the RSPCA wasn't really an option since, due to a shortage of space, they gas pets that remain unclaimed after three days.

I decided to take Sugar to a vet and a groomer, figuring if I got her cleaned up, perhaps someone would change their mind about taking her. Although the Australian vet I managed to find was great, but his prognosis was not. He discovered that Sugar had a terrible ear infection, one that she had probably had all her life — about 3 years. She slept all the time as a way to deal with the constant, awful pain. He also told me that he'd seen cases like this before. He thought that it was most likely that her previous owners had probably abandoned her because of the infection. The most practical advice he could give me was to have her put down. I looked at her, shaking on the metal examining table, huddled up against me and looking up at me, and I realized that at this moment in my life I needed her almost as much as she needed me.

So Sugar went on some serious pain medication that kept her ears relatively pain-free until we arrived in Canada a few months later, where she would have an operation. I began spending as much time with her as I could after that, mostly on the weekends, and she started to flourish, becoming happier and friendlier. Everyone I knew told me that I was crazy to keep her, and asked me what I would do with her when I left. Even though she loved Sugar, my mom was the most skeptical of all. She thought that the upcoming months in my life — when I was making the transition from Hong Kong to who knows where — would be too unsettled to deal with looking after a dog at the same time. And it was difficult — really difficult. I brought Sugar to Canada — first to Vancouver, then Toronto, and finally to Niagara Falls. Then she went through surgery, which left her almost totally deaf. All the while, I was looking for work in several cities and countries, and making sure there was someone who could look after her while I was moving around. Finally, we made it to Williamstown together with help from good friends, much determination, and a lot of love.

I know I am a happier person because of Sugar, and I feel like a better one, too. Not because I decided in the end to take care of her, but because of the sweetness she has brought back into my life. She forced me to keep at least a part of myself emotionally open and accessible, just at a time when I wanted to close it all off. When I take her to Linear Park to play each day and I see her stumpy little tail wag straight from her heart as she bounds after her yellow tennis ball, I know I'm lucky. Her pure joy and floppy happiness lift my spirits every day.

I know I'm not the only one who is Sugar-smitten. Since we've been in Williamstown, she's made more friends than I have — four-legged and two. The other day, we were walking down Main Street and a man pulled over in his minivan, powered down his window, and called out, "Excuse me, Miss? Do you know where I can buy myself a puppy like that one?" Not around here.

— Natalie and Sugar

---

Read more "Letters from Tripod" in the archive.

---