Bye Lucky
It’s hard to write about Lucky, because it’s not possible to do it justice. I don’t wish to write something incomplete, especially for Lucky. But I want to write, because writing helps me remember him.
If there is one unwavering thought I have of his memory, it is that it was too short. 2015 to 2023 was perhaps a long time without context, but given that it was Lucky’s life, it was too short. I know I’m not the only one filled with feelings of regret that I should have been better with him, or played with him more; because I can’t do it anymore.
I was in second year university at Queen’s when we got Lucky, so in that sense, he was never really my dog. He was my mom’s dog because she (in the beginning ostensibly begrudgingly) ended up taking care of him all his life.
During uni days I only saw him every time I came to visit home, and it wasn’t very frequent, especially in the beginning. I guess, I was very selfish that period of my life. Visiting home perhaps felt more like an obligation than a desire, and that eclipsed any thought about seeing Lucky.
I think as a family we were also warming up to the idea of having a dog in the household, and I don’t recall us being the most affectionate bunch at the time.
Despite that, I remember Lucky being always very energetic, and kind of hard to train. When we tried to play fetch with him, he’d run with the ball instead of giving it to you and you’d have to chase after him for it, because perhaps he thought it was a game of tag.
In 2016 I left Canada for a year and half to go abroad. By the time I returned back to Toronto in 2017, he didn’t chew on shoes anymore, and I think he had learned how to play fetch.
I took Lucky with me to Queen’s in 2017, for a large part of my fourth year. I remember it as a really happy time. I mainly kept to myself and a very small circle; but balancing a full course-load with taking care of a golden retriever, it filled all my time.
I don’t know how Lucky felt about Kingston, but I hope he liked it. That was when he learned that he loved to swim. We were playing fetch near the waterfront one time, and the ball accidentally fell in the lake. Lucky hesitated before diving in to retrieve it, then all hell broke loose — he wouldn’t come out no matter what. From then onwards, we can hardly take him by the water anymore, because he’ll always want to jump in.
I had so much fun with Lucky in Kingston. He was still a young boy (three years old), and had so much energy. We had a lot of fun, sometimes at his expense (making him wear socks, putting tennis balls on trees so he would have go on his hind legs to get it…). I do feel kind of bad remembering these mischiefs, and Lucky, as always, tolerated it and didn’t seemed like he detestedt us.
I didn’t see Lucky again for the next two years since I left to work full-time in Hong Kong, until May 2020. In the meantime, I had always loved seeing Lucky’s photos. He was always “老样子” (“same old, same old”), and I loved that.
I didn’t come home for those two years since 2018, because I felt that I was too busy experiencing life the other side of the world, and I felt that home will always be there, anyway. There definitely were times where I felt a little homesick when I looked at Lucky’s photos — especially when it snowed. Bridlewood always looked so beautiful in the snow, and I definitely wasn’t getting any of that in Hong Kong.
Covid spurred my return home in May 2020, and Lucky was much more calm. I noticed that he slept more than I had remembered. As always I was very touched when he got excited upon my arrival, after two years.
I really loved the time between my return from Hong Kong to when I left for Victoria in September 2021, because I got to spend a lot of time with Lucky. In retrospect, that was the last time that house saw the entire family under one roof. But I didn’t really know it at the time nor was it on my radar; and I had already been restless in trying to materialize the next step for my career.
Lucky had been pretty much the same old, except that I noticed that grey hairs began to grow on his face, and he didn’t like being upstairs and being in the basement anymore. He started wearing doggie coats in the winter. I think he also learned when he was going to be walked or not, depending on how his humans got ready to go out.
I didn’t think twice about this age, because when it came to playing fetch, he’d always go all out; and he still loved going swimming. I never did a great job at it, but it was always on my mind that I’d make time to take Lucky to the lake to go swimming.
He did get tired a bit more easily, but I was still kind of in denial about the fact that he was aging. I had attributed it to hot weather, or the fact that he was indeed kind of a chonky boy.
When I left for British Columbia in the fall of 2021, I did feel sad to leave Lucky, but I never worried that I won’t see him again.
Writing this in August 2023, the last two years of Lucky felt like a fast-fowarded blur. I saw him predictably every Christmas and summer, always not for very long at all.
He was always the “same old”, except, he wanted to go out for walks less. Mom said he ate less too, but would eat when there’s some human food mixed with his kibbles.
He was much more patient and calm. One time (not that I am proud of this story), I came in the house after walking Lucky, but I closed the door before I realized he was inside. An hour later, when I realized, I found him just chilling (lying down) outside, and seemed happy to see me (felt very guilty indeed).
I came home to Toronto in May 2023 out of no apparent reason other than I kinda missed home. That was the last time I saw Lucky like his old self. It was spring, we played some fetch in the backyard, and we went out for car rides. I didn’t think too much when I left again.
Lucky’s health deteriated fast in his last days. That was the first time I came home and he didn’t come greet me. Mom said he had an incident a couple of months back, but he had recovered quickly and was still playing fetch up until a week ago.
By the time he passed away he hadn’t eaten anything for eight days. Despite that, everytime someone came to visit, he’d be so excited and stand up (if he could) and wag his tail.
He was such a good dog, but his time here was so short. None of us knew that the last time he went swimming, was the last time he would go swimming. Or his last hike at Rouge Park would be his last hike at Rouge Park.
I really hope I get to see him again, in another life, or his spirit is off to somewhere playing fetch, or just hanging out. I don’t know. Maybe it’s better that he rests, in peace. I just can’t come to terms with why God would make such a beautiful spirit, then deprive the world (in all its sense) of it?
Bye Lucky.
