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 two meter high, iron fence of a huge tire 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-summer, 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?” My voice raised with both agitation and disbelief. “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 possibility 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 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 vision of him will carry through into the perpetuity of my lasting thoughts and memories.
“Do you think I should take him out 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 passerbyers 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 (string and all) 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 group of 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.” The father politely but nervously responded.
I continued, “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 really 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 determined 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 a simple 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 balmy 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 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 angelic 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 surprisingly 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 waiting there for you since you left honey; he hasn’t moved”. 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…and I 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 scrummaged 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-The Taxi Ride
As mid morning creped up, the ‘rolling thunder’ sound of the bedroom door sliding open cued Bicky to both instantaneously and simultaneously arch his inquisitive head, beam his ‘perpetual’ smile, and ecstatically wag his featherlike tail. Naoko eased into the living room, almost apologetically, afraid she might be infringing on our (Bicky’s and my) bonding time. Bicky jumped up to give her a ‘royal morning greeting’, complete with a strategically placed paw on her foot and a loving nuzzle on her shin. He was certainly playing his cards right if he wanted to get into her good graces; Naoko seemed as taken with Bicky as I was. Although I was still going through the fascade of trying to find an owner for Bicky, I knew by this point (at least in my heart) that Bicky belonged with us. Still, I wasn’t completely sure how Naoko felt about us taking Bicky in.
I had to delicately bridge this topic to her…but that was for a later time. At that moment, the priority (for me) was to get him to a veterinarian; I hated the idea of those diseased ticks on him.
I smiled at Naoko, “Good morning beautiful…”
Naoko responded with an enthusiastic “Good morning!” That “Good morning!” though was directed ‘at’ and ‘for’ Bicky…I (for that moment in time) was invisible. She placed both her hands on either side of his torso and asked him, in nationality, if he had had a good sleep. Bicky responded with more nuzzling, all the while looking back at me (in a kind of guilty way), making sure I wasn’t getting jealous.
“Don’t worry about me little man; you just do what you have to do.” He then compromised by plopping down in the middle of the living room.
“You’d make a great politician”, I proudly said as I rolled over and started rubbing his belly. After a few minutes, I proceeded to scour for the ticks I had found earlier that morning; I was obsessed. In less than 10 seconds I found one of them.
“Can you take a look at this Naoko? ” She picked up her reading glasses from on top of the TV, put them on, and knelt down to get a close look.
“OOOOOh. That’s a tick. Can you get it off?”
“ I tried; I was able to get one off but the others seem to be more stubborn.”
“Others?”
“Yep…at least five more. I’m afraid of making the situation worse though.” I paused, and in a hesitant tone continued, “So, I was thinking of… perhaps taking him to a veterinarian today.”
Naoko responded in a matter-of-fact tone. “I think that’s a very good idea.”
“Really? Great!” Naoko was definitely on board and I felt a great weight off my shoulders.
She then went on to ask, “So where should we take him?’
“Good question! Well, the closest vet I could find (on the Internet), is about 15 minutes from here by taxi.”
“By taxi? You can’t bring a dog into a taxi!”
“Look at him.” I knelt down beside Bicky and wrapped my arms around him, giving him a hug. “He can’t be more than 20 pounds. He’s as a clean as a whistle, san the ticks. He can sit on my lap; it will be fine.” I sounded like a vacuum cleaner salesman; a bad one at that.
“I don’t know, she said in a doubtful tone.” Then smiled at Bicky and stated rubbing his forehead. “I guess we can try.”
So we spent the rest of the morning getting ready and I went out and hailed down a taxi. The taxi driver was a friendly guy (to my relief) and I had him pull in the driveway. After Naoko got into the taxi, I told the ‘smiling’ driver that I had to get ‘something’ in the apartment and that I would only be a minute. I ran into the house and came back carrying Bicky in my arms. That smile the taxi driver was wearing a minute before, morphed into whatever the word for the polar opposite of a smile is. He honestly looked as if I had just ‘flashed’ him; this was not going like I had hoped it would.
“No, No,.: He frantically started waving me back. “No animals in the car.” I pleaded with him, explaining that Bicky was clean and had no odor. But it was futile. So Naoko, Bicky and I found ourselves on our driveway, back to square one…without a ride to the veterinarian’s.
“Here comes another taxi!” Hail it, and wait for me. I’ll be with you in a minute. I ran inside the apartment with Bicky and in under a minute was back out (with Bicky), walking toward the waiting taxi.
Naoko was already sitting in the taxi; and after I climbed in and sat down, I gave the taxi driver directions to the veterinarian’s office and we were off.
So there we were all in the back of the taxi, Naoko, myself and…. Bicky, who was completely swaddled in a beautiful baby blue towel. I was holding him close to my chest lovingly, as if he were a baby, and I had strategically placed the towel’s edges over his face desperately trying to obstruct any direct view the driver had of him. The whole point, of course, was to give the driver the impression that Bicky was in fact a ‘baby’…a ‘human baby’. And so far it seemed to be working! Meanwhile, under the blue towel, I could see Bicky’s face; his eyes looked back at mine with a mix of confusion and fear. Fear from what? Well, being wrapped and covered in a blanket was certainly uncomfortable…but it was the driving part that I think was blowing his mind. He obviously had never been in a vehicle before, and the sheer motion of the car was simply something he had never felt…and this of course was frightening to him. And with that he started to become restless and squirm. The driver started looking back in his rear view mirror at Bicky and I. ”Hmmm, he’s getting suspicious”, I thought as my heart started racing. My next worry was that he was going to ask (perhaps in a friendly way) about the ‘baby’. So I started making small talk with Naoko to ward off any uncomfortable silences in the car and therefore openings for the driver to speak. We spoke in English to further block any attempts he might have at ‘communication’. Finally after a 15-minute drive (but what felt like an hour), we arrived at our destination: The Kumagoro Animal hospital ...I opened the door and we (all three of us) got out of the car. By this point, due to Bicky’s squirming, the towel had half slid off him, revealing the bottom third of his little body…So I headed straight toward the clinic’s entrance without looking back. Naoko paid the driver, and he waved at us kindly as he drove off…no doubt wondering if all foreign children had white, featherlike tails.
Chapter 9- The Bombshell
Carrying Bicky under my right arm with my left one as a support, I walked up the stone steps of the aesthetically unremarkable structure and passed through the front sliding door of the veterinarian clinic into the reception area. The cool air from the air conditioning greeted us as I marveled at all the golden little sights to behold. The small room was bustling with people and their pets (the patients), each, no doubt, with their very own magical stories of love and loss & joy and adversity. There was an old man with a young Dalmatian…and a young woman with an aging Golden Retriever. A large black, mixed breed dog was sitting beside a little dark brown, longhaired dachshund. A very serious looking businessman (in a dark blue suit) was cradling an adorable black kitten as he watched the child in front of him feeding a small, gray haired pet rabbit the tip of a glaringly bright orange carrot. I stood there (in front of the door) for at least a full minute holding Bicky, who was still ‘semi’ wrapped in the now infamous baby blue blanket, and then in a loving voice whispered,
“Looks like this is the right place Little Man.” Bicky’s eyes were as wide as saucers and his heart was beating wildly. This was the first time I had actually seen him interact with other animals. His head slowly moved from one side to the other as his eyes methodically took in all there was to be seen, His ‘smile’ was still that-a smile- but one now accompanied with a large dose of trepidation. I took the one remaining seat left empty…the one beside the ‘serious businessman’. All this excitement was too much for Bicky though and he took his little snout and sandwiched it between my hip and elbow, closing his eyes. I could feel his little skin-and-bones body subtly tremble as I gently massaged him in a lovingly reassuring way and said,
“Don’t worry baby...I won’t let anyone hurt you.” I meant it.
The sliding door of the clinic’s front door opened and Naoko, accompanied with a burst of hot air from the sweltering day outside, entered and walked towards me. I waved her over and in a sheepish tone said, “Hey baby. Could you talk to the receptionist and give the necessary info?”
“Sure”, and she spent the next 15 minutes doing the necessary paperwork.
It should be made very clear that Naoko was completely and unconditionally helpful throughout all of this. While I would do the “fun” things like walking and “playing” with Bicky, she was filling out ‘vet” applications, making phone calls to shelters, and keeping Bicky company while he waited at the front every day for ‘me’ to come home from work. She is indeed the unsung hero in this story.
So we sat there waiting. Bicky only occasionally taking his head from out from under my elbow to take a deep breath and make sure I was still there.
Finally the receptionist called “Bicky’s” name and we (all three of us) walked into the examination room. There was an elevated steel table in the center of the room, so I gently laid Bicky down on it and held his head gently against my hip.
A tall, young male veterinarian with glasses, around 26 or 27 years old, walked in with a gentle smile. I politely greeted him and quickly explained to him the circumstances in which we had found Bicky and the highlights of what had transpired since then. I then went on to show him one of the ‘ticks’ that had been the prime motivation for us to bring Bicky there in the first place. He took one quick look at it and assured me that even though the ticks were an ugly sight, they were quite harmless and would be ‘taken care of’ before we left the clinic. He did however wish to give Bicky a general physical before he did anything else. He started with Bicky’s teeth; they were indeed in rough shape. They came in two colors-a lighter shade of brown and a darker shade of yellow. In fact, the doctor was a bit taken aback when he first managed to open Bicky’s stubbornly closed mouth…And after his less than his two minute dental examination, spoke to us in an instructional manner,
“These teeth are in poor condition because of an overall lack of proper nutrition; it’s not due to age.”
“How old do you think he is?”, I asked inquisitively…I had been curios about this from the moment I found Bicky.”
“I would guess about six or seven years old”, he replied in a less than sure tone.
“Six or seven years old?” I looked at Bicky with amazement. I then started speaking in that baby voice only reserved for him “You look much younger; have you had any work (as in cosmetic) done?”
Not likely…You see, the veterinarian believed that judging from the condition of Bicky’s teeth, nails and overall health and manner, there was a good possibility that Bicky had never even been to a veterinarian…in his entire life.
“Really doctor? “ I was both surprised and distressed to hear this. It seems that Bicky may have had an even rougher life than I had originally thought.
But the real ‘health’ bombshell was still yet to be dropped.
The doctor picked up a stethoscope that that was lying on an adjacent table, put the earpieces on as he gently laid the chest piece on Bicky’s heart and carefully listened. You could here a pin drop the room was so quiet. The doctor’s face grew more and more concerned the longer he listened. He then abruptly took off the stethoscope, put it back where he found it and let out a sigh.
“I need to run more tests…but it appears Bicky has a heart murmur.”
My ‘heart’ sank. I wasn’t even sure what exactly a heart murmur was but it didn’t sound good. “Is it serious doctor?”
“I’ll know after we do the tests. The clinic will need to keep him for a few hours…Would that be ok?
“Of course.”
And so, they kept Bicky for two hours while Naoko and I (mostly ’I’ though) paced in the waiting room.
At noon, the doctor came back with some disturbing news; Bicky had a disease known as feleria (heartworms). What followed was a very intense lecture about the disease, the causes, symptoms, and prognosis. We were basically informed that Bicky’s ‘feleria’ condition was quite advanced and that if the worms were not removed, Bicky would probably die within the next two years. When I asked about the treatment options, the doctor replied, “surgery.”
My heart sank further.
At the end of the consultation, Bicky was brought back into the room. His eyes exploded with happiness and relief when he saw Naoko and I, and curled up into my chest as the nurse handed him over to me, lovingly nuzzling the underside of my chin.
The vet was kind enough to arrange one of his clinic’s vans to drive us home…No taxis and shenanigans this time; we were going back in style!
As the three of us sat in the back of the van on the short ride back to our apartment, I held Bicky on my lap, gently cradling his little tired head as he started to doze off …no doubted exhausted from the long eventful afternoon..
I looked out the window of van, assessing the reality of situation:
First and foremost, I was absolutely crazy about this dog. In only a few short days we had forged a relationship that had offered me a wondrous sense of love happiness, and purpose. For everything (both the tangibles and intangibles) I had given Bicky, I received tenfold in return.
Second, that Bicky needed medical treatment and that I was fully prepared to do whatever it took (financially, time wise, etc) to make sure he had the best care possible.
Third, that the apartment we were currently residing in was woefully insufficient for our needs and that we needed to find something bigger…much bigger.
Fourth, because of Bicky’s precarious health condition and therefore frequent trips to the veterinarian, we would need a car. Bicky wrapped in baby blue blankets in taxis, although daring and cute, wasn’t very practical over the long term.
The van turned off the main road and drove up the little side street our apartment was located on. I tapped Naoko on the shoulder and in a nonchalant manner whispered,
“How about we do some house hunting tomorrow?”
Naoko nodded her head and whispered back, “Great idea Mark.”
Bicky looked up at the both of us with his ‘perpetual smile’, secure in the belief that whatever we were talking about was good.
Chapter 10 will cover the next few weeks of our time together and the unfortunate and lengthy separation that soon followed.
Side Notes.
*Although the veterinarian (at the Kumagoro Animal Clinic) estimated Bicky’s age to be 6 or 7 yrs, old, it was later determined (with more precise testing) that Bicky’s age was most likely about 4 yrs old..
*With a proper diet and cleaning, Bicky’s ‘yellow and brown teeth’ became a healthy pearly white…A shining example of how a dog’s teeth should be.
*Although Naoko and I were very taken with Bicky, basically from the start, we felt it was our responsibility to reunite him with his original owner(s). We made countless phone calls to government and private animal shelters and put up notices around the neighborhood with his picture on it. Not one person knew anything about him. If we had brought him to one of the city shelters, most likely he would have been destroyed within the next 3 days. No one would be eager to adopt a 4-year-old, mixed breed dog with health issues.
*All the ticks were indeed “taken care of” and I never saw one on his body ever again!
Thank you very much for reading!
Mark and Bicky