Perhaps writing about Bicky’s passing to those who have experienced such a loss (and understand the magnitude of it) will somehow be therapeutic for me. I feel the only way to convey the devastation of such a loss would be to articulate the depth of the friendship and love I had for him…and the best way to do this is to tell our whole story. It is my hope too that this may help others who have also experienced the loss of beloved pet and can identify with our story. I will add chapters in installments over the following weeks.
Chapter 1-Making Contact
I am a 42-year-old single Canadian male on contract working in Tokyo, Japan.
Almost nine years ago, while living in Japan, my girlfriend (Naoko) and I were walking along a small, suburban road, when Naoko spotted a little face behind a fence looking back at us. Its eyes were almond colored, bright and hopeful. After further investigation, we could see, to our surprise, that this adorable face belonged to a mid-sized, white colored dog. A dog that was, for lack of a better expression, on death’s door. It was so thin that its ribs jutted out. One of its legs looked broken, and he was incredibly weak due to lack of food and water. The dog was trapped behind the fence of a factory that was closed for the 3-day weekend. It was obvious this dog was a stray. During that particular time in my life I was always busy, consumed with my work , and absolutely uninterested in helping any creature in need…But even my cold, narcissistic personality couldn’t let this dog die there, so I let his eyes connect with mine, and we managed to find an opening in the fence, where he could crawl under and come toward us. I still remember how pungent his odor was; I had never smelled anything so horrid. What were we to do? He couldn’t obviously walk, but our apartment was about half a mile away. The only answer was for me to carry him, meaning that my clothes would be contaminated and I would probably vomit from the smell. But that’s what I did. I picked him up and quickly (via a brisk jog) brought him to the apartment. I opened the door and delivered him directly to my shower. And there, I gave him a thorough bathing. He stood there stunned as the warm water poured over him, The tub turned brown; the bugs and filth that came off of him were absolutely disgusting. And the odor that wafted throughout the apartment, after the cleaning, lingered for days.
Naoko arrived just as the dog was out of the bath and walking around the house.
“Oh, the smell is awful! Open the windows”. She looked down at the newly cleaned dog.
“Oh, he looks so clean”. Indeed he was. His beautiful eyes looked at me with what only could be described as a smile…which could be interpreted as a gesture of “thank you”. In tune with my character in that period of my life, the whole time I was thinking of how I was going to be able to find someone to take “this dog off our hands.”
“This is all we need, a dog to complicate things. I hope the landlord doesn’t find out about this”.
Chapter 2-Tuna Fish
I really had no clue of how to take care of a dog. All I knew is that they needed food and water and to go for walks. “Well, first thing’s first, I thought. This poor thing needs to be hydrated”. Indeed that was a priority. It was a mid-July (July 23, 2002 ) sweltering day in Tokyo. I took a bowl from my cupboard, poured some cool tap water into and laid it on the floor. The dog immediately put his face down and started lapping it up, emptying the bowl in under a minute.
“Should I give him some more?” I didn’t want the dog to overdo it. I remembered reading stories of people who were close to starvation or dehydration… and dying as a result of suddenly drinking or eating too much.
“You better not Mark”, Naoko wisely advised… So I held back.
Next was to give him some food. I opened up the cupboard door, “Let’s see…potato chips, cookies, cereal…Nothing…Then I eyed a small tin of tuna in the back. “How about tuna?”
“It isn’t a cat Mark”, she responded giggling.
“Well, that’s all we have at the moment…and I have no idea where we can buy pet food on a Sunday anywhere around here.”
“Naoko capitulated….OK, let’s see then.”
I opened up the can, scooped the tuna fish onto plate with a fork and laid it down in front of the dog.
“Here you go.” The dog cautiously approached the plate, smelled it…looked up at me as if to ask me “Is this really mine”? and started devouring it.
“Bingo! Now we’re rocking.”, I thought to myself.
Naoko knelt down beside the dog and innocently asked, “So what should we call him?”
“Call him? Nothing. He’s here ‘temporarily’…He has an owner somewhere and we’re gonna help reunite them. Giving him a name will only make it harder for you (as in Naoko) to say good bye when that eventuality occurs.”
I was serious. As cute as this dog was, I couldn’t fathom the idea of having a dog enter my (our) life. The idea of having to divert my ‘valuable’ time and resources made me panic at the mere thought.
“First thing tomorrow, let’s phone the local shelter and see if they’ve got any info on this dog. The sooner this is all taken care, the sooner we can get back to our usual routine.”
Chapter 3- Smiles, Mirrors, and String
The day slowly slipped into twilight, and then into early evening.
Our new houseguest was walking around our cramped apartment with a giddy type of nervousness; investigating every little nook and cranny as if it were the first time he had ever been inside any abode-ever. In fact it probably was. The innocent creature was bedazzled by the different rooms and the sounds emanating from both the TV and radio…And when he saw his reflection in a full length mirror for the very first time, he looked like he was ‘literally’ going to jump out of his fur. However, the most striking and indelible thing about this insignificant yet monumental event was the expression that this poor stray wore as he encountered all of these newfound wonders. It could only be described as a ‘perpetual smile’. A smile that said to me that he was genuinely happy and relieved that whatever nightmare he had been living through was over. A look that said that he had finally found his home after all this time. A grateful smile; a smile that understood the value of the gift and the second chance he was being given. A smile that he wore until the day he died. Together with that adorable face that harbored that smile, this lasting vision of him will carry through into the perpetuity of my thoughts and memories.
“Do you think he needs to go to the toilet”, I asked Naoko.
“Yes, it might be a good idea”
“OK. I guess I don’t need any leash or anything.” I muttered to myself. Then I reached down rubbed the dogs head and said in a childish voice, “You’re not going to run anywhere, are you?” The fact was, the dog definitely had a hurt leg; however, when I first saw him that afternoon, I feared it might have even be broken… but by nightfall his leg seemed just a bit sprained. He was able to walk, albeit slowly.
Naoko walked into the living room, “While walking outside, why don’t you ask any neighbors or passer Byers about him. Maybe they’ve heard about someone losing a dog.”
“Good idea Naoko.” I then stopped and thought about it for a bit. “On second thought, I think it would be best if I walked him with some kind of leash. There are laws about having a dog without one and I don’t want the neighbors to be getting upset.”
I knew we didn’t have a leash per se in the house, but being the wonderfully clever person I am I hit on a great idea. “Maybe I can use some of the string in the closet.”
“String?” Naoko asked with half a laugh and half a ‘you’ve got to be kidding’ gasp.
I became defensive (as par usual). “Hey, we don’t really have a choice at the moment…and even if there were a pet store open this late in our neighborhood, I don’t want to fork over $20.00 on a leash that we won’t need in a few days.
“Well, you’re the one walking him.”, Naoko quipped as she started looking for the string.
I grabbed the collar that we had taken off him (to shower him) but quickly let it drop to the floor. “Yuck”. The collar still reeked of the foul stench that accompanied Bicky earlier in the day.
“Well, we can’t use this collar”, I knelt down to talk to the dog, massaged his head a bit, and went on to speak to the dog as if he were a native English speaker, “I guess we’ll have to use the string bareback mister:”
“Here’s the string Mark:” Naoko handed me a thick, white colored string and I looped it around the dog’s neck. I opened the door, and we were off on what was to be the first of a thousand adventures together.
Chapter 4-The “Something”
It’s funny but sometimes the nights are even hotter than the days in Tokyo…and that was the case this particular evening. The moon was almost full and the stars twinkled in the sky as if to say hello to my new friend and I. I placed the dog down on the ground after navigating the stairwell that brought me from our 2nd floor apartment to the ground level. It was a Sunday evening and that meant there was a relaxed vibe in the neighborhood. If it had been a weekday, there would have been a scene of straggling people returning home from work and a tangible feeling of stress and exhaustion in the air…But because it was a weekend, there was a feeling of lightness and unlimited possibilities. It all seemed a bit surreal, really. Here I was, a 33-year-old Caucasian male in Tokyo, walking with a lame, skin-and-bones dog, with a piece of regular white string tied around its neck (not even a collar).
It wasn’t two minutes into our walk when we encountered our first people. It appeared to be a nationality family of four: a mother, father and two children returning to their home from a local restaurant.
(nationality) “Good evening. Beautiful weather isn’t it”
“Yes.”
“Say, you wouldn’t happen to know who this dog belongs to?”
“eeeeeee, I’ve never seen it in my life. Is it a stray dog?”, he cautiously moved his children away as if to protect them.
“Yes…I found him this morning.”
“Well, perhaps you should just let him go and he’ll find his way back home.” I winced and stepped back, digesting what he had just said. Then my blood started to boil and I began searching for a suitable retort.
“Are you ******** stupid? It’s that exact ‘detached’, not-my-responsibility’, ‘pie-in-the-sky’ denial tactic that has made this world the cold shell of what it could be, and in this particular case, a dog’s life a living hell.”, is what I wanted to say…but all I could muster was, “That’s an idea. Thanks and have a nice evening”.
The dog and I left the party of four and headed towards the most exciting place on a Sunday evening in my neighborhood: the convenient store. I looked down at my new friend and saw (again) that big happy smile of his. It was the smile of someone who had just won the lottery and couldn’t believe his luck. He seemed so proud that we were together and wouldn’t leave my side. I, on the other hand, was on a mission to find this dog’s owner and not in the mood to forge a relationship with a dog that would undoubtedly soon be just a memory…an anecdote to fill in those spaces when there is absolutely nothing else to talk about.
I also wanted the dog to go about and do his business (as in toilet) outside…I had no idea if this dog was housetrained and was very nervous that I might end up cleaning the carpets on top of everything else that evening. So far, all he managed to do was “number 1” a few times. “Well, that’s better than nothing”, I thought.
I arrived at the convenient store and approached a group of teenagers who were just hanging around the parking lot. I asked whether they had ever seen the dog before, but they all (politely) said “no.” Then, a group of people started to gather around us: old, young, female, and male. They seemed to have all suddenly come out of the woodwork and a circle started to incase the dog and I. The dog started wagging his tail enthusiastically and his little smile grew wider and wider…He undoubtedly was thinking, we (especially him though) were getting loving attention. I unfortunately knew better though. The unusual sight of a foreigner with an emaciated dog (and string for a collar no less) was just too intriguing and exciting for the average nationality person to resist. “Well at least I can ask everybody at once about the dog”, I thought to myself. Just then, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the dog suddenly arch his back; he looked at me as if to ask me for permission for something, and then proceeded to do that ‘something’…A ‘something’ I will never, ever forget. Let’s just say that he fulfilled his toilet duty in a very “big” way. Right there in the middle of the parking lot with everybody watching us! What came out of him can only be described as amazing and disgusting, Or amazingly disgusting...or disgustingly amazing. Whatever the case may be, it was unforgettable and not least of all…mortifying. At least for me it was…Not for the dog who seemed very proud of himself. He looked at me with those baby almond eyes of his, beckoning me to reward him in some way. I had bigger fish to fry though; there were about 12 shocked people looking at me, wondering what this strange foreigner was going to next. I knew that my next move should have been to clean the mess up, but I didn’t have any type of bag or tissue for that…and I was panicking. So I tried a different tactic. I struggled for the proper words in nationality, but they escaped me…so the best I could do was,
“This is not my dog. Do you know whose dog this is?”
This was greeted with a deafening silence from the crowd of people. So, I looked down at my little ‘troublemaker’, , scooped him up and just walked away into the night, leaving the dog’s ‘present’ smack where the dog deposited it.
As I was carrying him home, I remember thinking how embarrassing it all was and how I wouldn’t be able to show my face in the convenient store again. It was all more than I had really bargained for.
Funny how time can change things. At the time I wanted to be anywhere but in that silly situation with that ‘silly’ dog…But now, I would literally give all that I have to transport back to that magical time and place and hold and kiss him just one more time…
That sweltering summer evening, carry that little guy with me…His beautiful white fur, glistening from the reflection of the midsummer night’s moon. His deep, dark eyes looking at me with complete unconditional love and trust. It sounds so hackneyed and clichéd to talk about how a dog rescued me as opposed to me rescuing the dog, but that was exactly what was happening.
Chapter 5- A Rose By Any Other Name…
The dog and I arrived home with his mission ‘very accomplished’. Naoko was inside the kitchen busy making dinner as I gently laid my new friend onto the floor. He walked into the living room, turned head around to make sure I was behind him, and gently laid down, with only his head and shoulders arched up.
“So, did he go to the toilet?”, Naoko inquired
“You could say that”, my eyes playfully sending daggers at our new houseguest as I put my keys onto the key rack.
“Number 2?”
“Well it was a bit of a mix, but there was definitely number 2 in there somewhere.”
Naoko was confused but knew enough not to follow this line of questioning and just said,
“Dinner will be in a few minutes.” Do you think he will be able to eat chicken?”
“Well, I guess we’ll find out soon enough.”
By this point we had set out food and water dishes for the dog, so Naoko took out a little bit of boiled chicken, chopped it up into tiny pieces, mixed it with a little bit of cooked cabbage and placed it into his bowl. He jumped up like a Jack-in-the-box and went over to the bowl, looked at us as if to say thank-you, and cautiously began to nibble…And then when he discovered that it was not only palatable but delicious, wolfed it down.
“Wow”, at least we know you’re not a vegetarian”, eh little guy?. I bent down and kissed his forehead. He reciprocated by gazing at me as if I were the center of the universe. Not only his center…but THE center. And I was fine with that….In fact, I was more than fine with it; I felt somehow….complete.
“Naoko, I think this idea of ‘yours’ not giving the dog a name, although sensible, isn’t very practical. Perhaps we should give him a name temporarily….until we find his owner that is.”
Naoko looked at me, ignoring the fact that indeed it was my idea not to give the dog a name (she was used to it), and replied,
“Well, I think there is a name written on the collar he was wearing.
“Really?” Where is it?”
“In the garbage…wrapped in a plastic bag”. Indeed, that’s where it belonged; that collar was putrid. Not only did it have a stench that was so wretched that it wouldn’t even soften after two times in the wash, but the mere look of it was offensive. You see, the dog was obviously full grown, but the collar was for a mere puppy. It was as thin as a lace and so tight on him that he would have been choking if not for the fact that he was so emaciated (from near starvation). I didn’t want to see it again because it broke my heart to be reminded of its existence.
Naoko opened the garbage then took out the second plastic bag and untied the knot and plopped out the collar. And there, on the underside of the collar was an inscription-It read, ”Vicky”.
“Vicky?” I was confused. Vicky was a female name and due to my ‘expertise’ in anatomy, I had already ascertained that this dog was indeed a male.
“Well, how about we call him ‘Bicky’. It sounds more masculine (I guess) and it will be much easier for nationality to pronounce it anyway.” And just like that, on the evening of July 23rd, 2002, the name ‘Bicky’ entered into my lexicon for the first time.
Later that evening as Naoko and I got ready for bed, we put a towel down on the area of the living room that Bicky seemed most comfortable, designating where he was to sleep. Not ten minutes later, as I entered the living room, I saw the most endearing sight: “Bicky” was laying down on the towel, steadfast asleep, The smile that so defined him, somehow had morphed into an angel-like look of contentment. He knew he was home and had fallen into perhaps what was the first worry-free sleep of his short, sad life.
As I lay falling asleep that night, I gently nudged Naoko and whispered.
“Try not to become attached to him honey, it will just make it harder when he finally has to leave us.”
Side note: I later found out that the Inscription “Vicky” was the brand name of the collar and not his name…but by the time I found it out, he was “Bicky” and there was no turning back.
Chapter 6- Perfect Day
The early morning sun burst through the bedroom curtains, prompting me to roll over and smush my face into my pillow. Oh, how I loved being able to sleep in...I was on holiday and intent on taking full advantage of it. I started drifting back into unconsciousness and bliss when a subtle rustling noise (from the living room) brought me back to lucidity.
“Bicky’s up”, I thought to myself. “Well he better get back to sleep. There’s no way I’m going to interrupt this beautiful slumber.” I started to drift back to sleep….Tick, tock, tick, tock, five minutes past. ‘Rustle, rustle, bang!’
“Oh ****.” I tapped on Naoko’s shoulder and whispered,
“How can you sleep through this?
“Sleep through what?”
“Sleep through what? Bicky’s tearing our living room apart, that’s what.”
“Well, check on him then”, Naoko then instantaneously fell back to sleep, (what a talent!)
My options were very limited; I had to get up. I got out of bed, threw my robe on, and opened the sliding bedroom door. And there Bicky was, sitting proudly with his back straight as a board, in front of the bedroom door, not two feet away wearing his signature smile…What’s more, he was bearing gifts! He indeed had been a busy dog that morning. While I was sleeping (or at least trying to), Bicky was busy gathering various items (from our laundry bag), and placed them in a pile in front of the bedroom door. Now I stood there looking at an assortment of socks, underwear, and hand towels.
“Well, “Bicky!”, I knelt down and started chuckling. “You certainly are a charmer, even if the gifts are not that appropriate; I give you an A+ for effort.” I reached both hands out and gently kissed him on the forehead. With that, Bicky picked up one of the socks he had so kindly offered me and started racing around the living room table, daring me to try to get it away from him. And I did exactly what he was expecting (and hoping) I would do…A desperate chase ensued, climaxing in Bicky’s eventual capture, a ceremonious headlock, and my reclamation of the sock! He was still much too weak to be all that quick, but his playful spirit made up for any handicap. We were just two boys having some rambunctious fun.
All this was too much noise for even Naoko to sleep through; I could see her silhouette out of the corner of my eye. “Oh, oh.”
“Oh dear! What’s all this?”, Naoko seemed more amused than troubled.
“Oh, I think Bicky might have a fetish for underwear and socks.”, I joked as I caressed Bicky’s delicate head and looked him straight in the eyes. “Don’t tell me that on top of everything else, you’re a pervert.” Bicky then laid that little head down on my knee, and I looked out at the shining morning and declared in a melodramatic (Charlton Heston) voice, “This is going to be a great day.” I then quickly turned to Naoko, “I think we had better get some proper dog food, a collar and a leash today. So…I’ll have to go downtown (by train) for that.,,
“I think so too.”
So for the next few hours of the early morning, I played with Bicky and held him as he finally drifted off to sleep in my arms.
“So now you want to sleep? I playfully asked. “Three hours too late little man.”
I recall how dead tired I felt making my way to the local department store to pick up ‘Bicky’s ‘stuff’, but at the same time how driven and excited I was. Whatever my feelings though, my life had definitely been turned upside down and inside out…And I was loving it.
I returned home to find Bicky waiting exactly where I left him; at the front door entrance.
Naoko greeted with me an astonished, “He’s been there since you left honey; he wouldn’t move”. My heart melted. I knelt down, pulled out a red colored collar from my shopping bag, and excitedly said, “How about a walk?”
Indeed, it was a great day...a perfect day.
Chapter 7-Unpleasant Surprises
The following morning I decided to preempt Bicky’s shenanigans by sneaking out of bed before any discernable noise could be heard from the living room. I ever so quietly slid the bedroom door open and spied Bicky as he was fast asleep. From the looks of it, Bicky was having an eventful dream. His eyes were indeed closed but twitching wildly, and his paws were moving in what could only be described as a running motion. “How magnificently adorable.”..I quietly knelt down beside him, and then contorted my body so my body encircled his, but without actually touching it. I just couldn’t bring myself to wake him. The warmth of his body and the peculiar noises that emoted from him, were plenty entertainment for me. And there we lay together as the sun rose and illuminated the once dark room. I must have dozed off because I was rudely awakened by a paw jutting into my face. Guess who!. Bicky was in the middle of a full morning stretch. My eyes locked on his and I could almost hear his heart race as he positioned his body upright and finally stood up on all fours. With that, possessing the face of a child on Christmas morning, he backed up on his hind legs and ‘shoved me’ with the front ones, as if to say,
“So what wonderful adventures are in store for me today?”
“SSSSShhhh, you don’t want to wake up Naoko this morning; she may not be so forgiving this time.”, I whispered, and gently scooped him up , laying him back down on the towel.” I then reached up onto the table, and dipped my hand into the bag of “dog stuff” and pulled out a purple colored ‘dog brush.
“Now I’ll give you the ’royal’ treatment.” I proceeded to brush his beautiful white fur as he lay completely stretched out. Every stroke of that brush brought him a look of what can only described as ‘pure serenity’. He would even elevate certain areas of that ‘skin and bones’ body of his, as if to say, “hey Mark, right here…that’s it”.
As I continued to comb his body, to my surprise, I noticed something brown protruding from the skin, buried under the thick fur of the scruff of his neck. Upon further investigation, I found what appeared to be a ‘tick’. It was about as big as a dime. “How disgusting.” I tried removing it with a tissue but it wasn’t budging. I then started scouring his body for more unpleasant surprises…andI found them. Two, three, four…”This is incredible: I had already given him two baths and somehow these things (ticks) managed to remain undetected. I made a quick search on the Internet to find out the best course of action. The resounding recommendation? Pull them out with tweezers. So I scrumaged around the apartment, found a pair of tweezers and ever so delicately started pulling them out. The first one came off with little difficulty…but the second one was much more stubborn; it wasn’t going to let go and I feared that if I pulled too hard, I’d end up leaving half of the thing inside him and make the situation worse. On top of this, Bickly was becoming increasingly uncomfortable and started squirming; I was in over my head. “Mission unaccomplished.”
Discouraged but not defeated, I reached over and carefully put the tweezers on the coffee table centered in the middle of the room, and in a ‘rolling’ motion snuggled up to Bicky, took his little head in my right hand and positioned it so that we were both directly eye to eye
“How do you feel about going to the vet's today handsome?”
Chapter 8 will detail our first trip to the veterinarian's and the discovery of some disturbing facts about Bicky’s overall health.
Thank you very much for reading!
