By Christina Yin.
They run up the slope together, brown paws and black paws, one after the other, ears flapping and noses twitching with excitement.
Up at the crest of the hill, they pause, panting happily. Such joy to race with strong limbs and strong hearts. They scan the expanse of green before them with clear brown eyes. Coming up the hill, they can see two other beauties, black coats glossy and shining in the sun. One has a white patch on his chest and white socks on his two front paws.
Then behind them comes the human. He is an old man, but he is strong! With him, there are a few other four-pawed friends, tails wagging with joy and excitement. Some are small – a brown and white Springer Spaniel, and two cocker spaniels, one golden and one black. Then there are the large ones: four Dobermans, one German Shepherd, two Rottweiler-Dalmatian mixed breeds, two German Shepherd-black Labrador mixed breeds, and with them, a small, street-smart, tan coloured mongrel.
They gambol together on the hill, chasing each other, splashing in the clear stream where the old man sometimes bends to pick up a rock or a fossil – a memory of a different life, of years zig-zagging the land, mapping the formations of a newly independent country.
And as it happens, one trail leads to another, and the happy group follows the stream that trickles to the coast, where the four-legged friends pad onto the beach. Little crabs scuttle away as they play, chasing the gentle waves where the old man rolls up his trousers and takes off his shoes to paddle in his bare feet in the shallow waters, looking out to sea as if he were searching for someone or something.
Up above, a pied hornbill swoops towards the shore while, in the distance, a family of otters swims from one side of the bay to the other. He sees in distant memories pictures of an underwater world of living corals and colourful fish, of children and snorkels and yellow dinghies and oars in the Straits of Malacca.
When the sun falls, they find a comfortable spot to rest and to enjoy the night sky where they can see the stars twinkling down at them. The great orb of the moon is suspended high above, a reminder of many Mooncake festivals with variously coloured lanterns in rabbit and fish shapes, dangling from sticks as children scamper, up late – a treat – to celebrate with the adults. Now, there is no hunger or thirst or pain. The rest is really a companionable gathering.
The sun’s rays have just appeared on the horizon, where the sea meets the sky, when they see the human the old man has been waiting for – was it today, yesterday, years, months, or decades since she held his hand when he struggled to take his next breath, when he whispered his last words: ‘Don’t leave me?’
In the end, he left her. But it doesn’t matter now. For there she is, walking on the beach towards them. It is a race to see who reaches her first; everyone jumps up to run up and greet her for pats, for cuddles, for hugs – oh the joy! It is forever.
