My Life as a Waiting Dog

【Abstract】This article uses personification to describe a dogs life with its family, including how it was brought to the family and the life it spend with them. The article mainly focuses on the dogs psychological state when its owners are not home in order to reveal the truth that most dogs in cities nowadays are forced to have a sad and unfair “waiting” destiny.

【Key words】the dog; waiting; family

【作者簡(jiǎn)介】胡昕雨，廣東外語外貿(mào)大學(xué)。

My name is Doudou, and Im a Pomeranian dog. By the end of this year, Ill be nine years old. I have a lovely family with a kind mother, a funny but strict father and a sister who loves me most. Being part of their lives is the luckiest thing that ever happened in my life, and I believe that they feel the same way just as I do.

I was first bought from a pet store by a man who called me “root carving”. I had no idea what this meant and I didnt know why he called me this. When I got to his apartment, I was very nervous, so I kept barking and barking. I really wanted to drink some water and pee after a few hours barking. But where? Finally I decided to pee right beside the sofa. But that was when the relationship between me and the man got intense. He seemed so angry that I heard him calling someone to pick me up. “I dont like him as well anyway.” I thought to myself.

“Yes? Mr. Mao?” That was the first time I heard my sisters voice. After their conversation, I just had the feeling that I might be with her for the rest of my life. Although she sounded hesitated at first, she called back and agreed to pick me up at last.

An hour later, the man kept me in a cage and lifted me out. I was very nervous because I had no idea what was happening and what would happen. I started to bark again, as loud as I could to show that I was tough.

A yellow car stopped in the darkness, and my sister and her mother got out. That was the first time I met my sister. She took me from the mans hands and looked at me in the eye. I stopped barking suddenly and looked back. There were so much kindness and love in her eyes that I suddenly felt safe and warm for the first time since I had had memory. Then, I was on the way to my home.

My sister said that my eyes were dark and round and just like beans. So, at a traffic light, she decided to call me “Doudou”. When we get home, my sister let me sleep in her bedroom and played with me. She liked lifting me up because she thought I was as light as a piece of paper. I loved playing with her and I loved her. I thought I could be with her all the time till the end of my life. At least, that was what I thought.

The next day, in the morning, when my sister got up, she ate her breakfast and touched me. Just when I thought she would play with me again, she left the apartment. I was confused and thought I had done something wrong. But neither her mother nor her father seemed to be angry. After a few minutes, the parents locked me up in the cage and went out too. “Why they lock me up? I didnt do anything wrong!” I barked loud to show I didnt want to be here. But they didnt return, let alone letting me out. So, I had no choice but to stay in my cage for the whole day.

Five oclock in the afternoon, my sister returned home. She let me out and played with me. I was very excited and happy when I was with her, and I hoped that she would never leave me again. I followed her everywhere she went, even waiting beside the toilet! She did her things but she would stroke me and speak to me from time to time, although for the most of the time I couldnt understand what she said. I felt safe with her because she didnt seem to leave me again.

But next morning, the same thing happened just as the day before. I was locked in the cage again, alone, for the whole day. When the sun set, she went back, followed by her mother and father. The third day, the same thing happened. And then, the fourth day. I gradually got used to being alone during the day because I knew that my family would be back to me later. And every time when I heard or smell of them even early when they were downstairs I would begin to bark. Although I was alone for the most of the day, I had something to long for.

Years had passed, and my sister went to middle school. She came home later than she had done, mostly around 9 oclock in the evening and left home earlier in the morning. Her mother and father? would return home earlier than her. Although I missed her much, I tried to play with her parents and followed them wherever they went. Late in the evening, finally when my sister was home, she always had many lessons to recite and much homework to do before went to bed. The time left for me and her was so limited. I thought she must have lots of important things to do every day and I chose to understand her because I thought things couldnt be worse. But I was wrong.

With her growing up, the time she spent in school was longer and longer. She would leave when I was still sleeping and return home when I had already slept. But I got up and welcomed her no matter how late she returned. Gradually, to wait and pick up my sister on the way home, the parents began to return home later and later too. The time I spent waiting for my family became longer and the time I spent with them became shorter. I really felt desperate sometimes when I had to bear the heat of summer in the balcony where they put me in, waiting for them to come home. But life was just like this, from time to time.

Six years later, when my sister finally graduated, she spent mostly the whole three months with me and I just felt happy and relaxed and thought I had finally gone through all the tough time. But I was wrong, once again.

Shes now in Guangzhou, a place I believe she loves. Otherwise, I just cant understand why she doesnt come back to me and stay away from home for so long. Although I missed her much, life goes on. I begin to follow her parents as I once did to her. Sometimes her parents would mention her name during conversation, and every time I heard it, I would start to bark and try to find her somewhere in the apartment like I was insane. But of course, in vain.

Im eight years old now, and I dont know if she will be there with me when I pass away. I do really hope she will be there, telling me not to be afraid, stroking me, and looking at me in the eye, with her eyes full of kindness and love.

Im just a common dog without fascinating stories. I spent most of my life waiting, and I hope the day when Ill never have to wait again come, who Im always waiting for will be there, waiting for me to look at her, one last time.