CHAPTER 4: AND MONKEY MAKES FOUR

 – Continuing the story of my pets, Bobby & Maria

Bobby, and to a lesser extent, Maria, continued  to be my constant companion. As my youngest sister Pam grew up, she would occasionally join me  as I explore the hills and the river. But being a girl, her interest was somewhat muted.

One day she joined me on a visit up the hill to Or Ba’s durian estate. There we shared a durian for 30 cents and it was good. It became better for a tiny little monkey, apparently orphaned, was shrieking at us. It was so tiny, so cute and mischievous looking, both of us wanted it. Or Ba agreed to part with it for $5.

Had a  quick discussion with Pam and I think she came up with slightly less than half of the $5, and me, being the elder brother, coughed up my entire fortune to make up the $5. And we walked home with a new addition to the family in tow.

My parents were indulgent in that sense. They allowed me to have my way most of the time. My father bought a dog  chain and a dog’s collar so that when needed, Mickey (that was his name) could be restrained. I didn’t like that one bit but was told that otherwise, he might run back to the hills.

Bobby and Maria took to Mickey, again more Bobby than Maria. Over the few years that we had Mickey with us, it was Bobby who helped look after Mickey. She would allow Mickey to ride on her back, with  one end of the dog chain secured to her body and the other end attached to Mickey’s collar. And that was how the four of us, minus Kittie who never joined us in our outings, went about saving the world.

But Mickey outgrew all that very fast. Still very attached to me, he would sometime screamed for me at night and that was when I had to give up my warm bed, sleep on the sofa in the living room, secure his dog chain to the window bars so that he could come and snuggle up to me whenever he wanted.

I allowed Mickey to roam free most of the time and became confident that  he would never leave me for his natural habitat. For example, we would go to the river together. When I was ready to go home, sometimes Mickey would refuse to budge. He even ignored me. So I decided to test him – and walked away leaving him in the water. I was soon   about 300 yards from the river. He jumped out of the water, stood on a rock and jumped up and down, screaming and screeching, as if scolding me for leaving him behind. It was almost comical. But at the same time, like a spoilt kid, he refused to budge, insisting that I go back to fetch him! Finally, I  gave in and went back to fetch him. He  would stand on my shoulder as we make our way back home but he would continue to screech relentlessly, obviously  still angry at me.

Mickey had a  destructive streak in him – when not tied to his chain, he goes crazy. He would climb up the trees and help himself to the guavas, for example, taking a bite or two of each fruit and then throwing it away. Or he would sneak into our neighbor’s and played with their toothbrush and toothpaste, and the aunties would start shouting my name. Secretly, I enjoyed those little pranks.

Sometimes to keep him entertained, I would just leave him with a pail of water. He would climb in and out, and sometimes make faces at me as peered up at me with his face fully submerged.

Unfortunately, a sad incident resulted in my deciding to give up Mickey. My elder brother had been persuading to give him away, saying monkeys bring bad luck. I refused, even though he tried to bribe me with a set of Parker pens. Till one fateful day.

I was carrying his daughter, my niece, who was probably 3 or 4. Mickey was riding on Bobby’s back. He had never seen me carry any little ones before and he went berserk with jealousy. He was not leashed to Bobby –  he jumped off her back and came right at Swee Khuan and started attacking her. I was momentarily stunned and it took me a few seconds before I reacted. I pulled him away from my niece who by then was screaming in fear. She suffered scratches and some bites. To show my displeasure, I took Mickey about 200 yards away and threw him into the bushes. Then I ran off, half-heartedly. The minute it started crying out for me, my heart softened. How could I leave him to fend for himself? What would happen to him if it rained or snakes……I went back to him and he ran towards me, jumped up and wrapped himself tightly around me.

Three days later, he was given away to a Malay family whom I knew. I had agreed to the arrangement. They were to take Micky after I had left for school that day. I came home from school that day, had my late lunch and took Bobby with me to the river. And there, hidden from everyone except Bobby I cried. Bye, bye Mickey!

This started as a promise to tell a story. It became an obsession. I simply must finish this story that spans the life of Bobby, who lived up to a ripe old age of about 16, I think. So Amy Lee, Stephanie, Crispin and Abby, thank you – as I introduce you to your great great grandmother, I walked down Memory Lane  in an excited, childlike manner.

I hope the Parkers and the Ratjes, with young children, will also enjoy this.

CHAPTER 4: AND KITTIE MAKES 3 (BOBBY became a lifetime mother to……………a cat!!!

The mother and daughter continued giving births at the same time over the next few years, at times  by a difference of a couple of days. I am almost sure that the following incident happened the very first time they became mothers together.

My mother came home one night quite late. She was playing mahjong at a neighbor’s.  Most of us, myself included, were asleep. Suddenly, we were woken up by a commotion. Rushing out of the rooms, we saw mother holding one tiny kitten in one hand, and a newborn pup in another, while scolding Bobby and Maria quite loudly “If anything happens to this kitten, I will take your puppies away!”

She then told us she was given two kittens by a neighbor. Thinking that Bobby and Maria could nurse them as they were nursing their new litters, she took the kittens and without saying anything, put one of them with Maria’s 5 pups. Both had always disliked cats, chasing them away whenever they came near the house. This little one was too near for comfort and Maria turned violent. And the poor kitten was sent off to Heaven. Hence the strong message my mother was delivering to the two of them. But they were dogs, how would they understand?

But they did! They actually did! The surviving Kittie (this name stuck) started suckling on Bobby who, eager to please the mistress of the house even nudged Kittie closer and started to clean her by licking her from head to tail. I was relieved. And amazed. I just couldn’t believe my eyes, had never seen anything like this in my life.  After a few minutes, mother moved Kittie to Maria and my heart was in my mouth. While she did not fawn over Kittie like Bobby did, she allowed her to suckle. That was good enough for now.

We went back to sleep but I sneaked out a few times to make sure Kittie had not joined her sibling in Heaven. She did not.

They continued to bond and over the next few years, I witnessed the strangest things that ever happened in my life.

   1)Maria was more of a sister to Kittie than a mother. Whilst she tolerated Kittie, and continued to nurse her occasionally, she would not hesitate to snap back if Kittie cross the line – like biting her  tail too hard when they were playing together. Bobby, on the other hand, was the indulgent mother.

2) Woe betide any dog which tried to attack Kittie, and they tried, chasing her when she   ventured up the hills on her own. Bobby and Maria, sensing that their baby/sibling was in trouble, raced to her rescue. I witnessed one near disaster – two huge dogs chased Kittie all the way home, and even had the audacity to go into our very backyard. Bobby and Maria dashed out, and I saw them in a different light – they were fighters, they were heroes, and threw themselves between cat and dogs – ready to be injured as Kittie was their responsibility – they were the protector. They attacked so ferociously, the two big dogs never had a chance, and ran off with their legs between their tails.

THIS PHOTO MUST BE TAKEN AROUND 1968 WHEN I WAS 14? MY NIECE, SWEE KHUAN, MOTHER OF THE VISVANANDAS KIDS, WATCHING.

Will add more photos later.

      3) Kittie became a mother, and like most cats, she would move her litter every few days in search of a safer please, usually up in the false ceiling. But, in between suckling her own litter, she would take time off to suckle on either Bobby or Maria, more the former. This, even if they had no milk as it was not breeding season. Maria would only take so much, and when  Kittie persisted, she would just get up and walk away. But the indulgent Bobby would allow Kittie to suckle on her as frequently and as long as she wanted. It was a funny sight, seeing a big tabby (Kittie grew quite large) suckling on a dog.

CHAPTER 3: FINDING BOBBY……..and MARIA (The Case Of The Missing Mother & Daughter Tag Team)

Sounded like something for the Secret 7? Or the Famous 5. Ah! I was into Enid Blyton in those days half a century ago………

So the first litter came and went. And now we have two dogs tagging along especially for my personal adventures – long hikes deep into the hills – gave me courage. And when it became a bit too quiet and eerie, I would start talking to mum and daughter.

Bobby was an excellent mum, never fought with Maria and when she did, it was probably, looking back, just motherly admonishments. But Maria (was  reminded that my mother called her Mariam and yes, that actually was the case) was lazier, sometimes not wishing to go out. But Bobby never turn down any opportunity especially when I go fishing. She gets to eat some of my catch which I sometimes cook right at the riverside!

About two years later, during the school holidays most of which I spent at 9, HK Street (a kind of tacit arrangements between the two families) my father visited. I didn’t think much of it because he goes to #9 all the time. Each time I see him, I would ask him to remind either  Chrissy, and in later years after she went to Singapore to study, Pam, to look after Bobby and Maria and to make sure they were fed. This time it was no different. But my father didn’t reply. I got scared. Something was wrong. I sensed it. Then he broke the news – both mother and daughter had gone missing for three days. I went crazy, started bawling and started packing at the same time. My #2 sister-in-law of my family at #9 (Amy Lee’s great grandmother) helped me and kept telling me to stop crying but the more she coaxed, the harder I cried.

THAT WAS THE FIRST TIME EVER I RETURNED HOME WITH MY FATHER WILLINGLY, WITHOUT SCREAMING MURDER.

So on the long bus ride home, a lot of thoughts went through my mind. What happened? What if I don’t get to see either of them again? Why was I so selfish and didn’t spend more of my school holidays with them? Did some sick dogs hater, like it was done once before, done it again? What if, what if!

Yes, Bobby survived a bad ordeal just weeks after moving to my family home. She was caught by a sick dog abuser (it had to be) – and was badly injured, but limped back and found us nevertheless. No, it just cannot happen again.

So I was sitting by myself on arrival at home, in the living room (we lived in a two story house in a valley, and the 2^nd floor opened up into the vast hillside – a heavenly place to grow up!) Then I started crying again and in just a minute flat, I was screaming “Bobby! Maria! Bobby! Maria!” My worried parents, thinking I must have gone bonkers, came running. Yes, Bobby and Maria heard me crying, and came rushing down the hill for me. Just for me.

Then as fast as they returned, they were impatiently trying to get out of the house again. But both nudged me along. When I stopped, they looked back and started whining. I followed and went up the hill in record time – they led me to two litters of pups – five each – not sure which was whose – but it doesn’t matter.

6 males, 4 females. Bobby was mum to which of them? Was it really 5 a piece? Which were Maria’s. That was the question after we had moved the pups back – in a basket over several trips – with both new mothers trying to help, taking a pup each in their mouth. But I took the pup from them and they didn’t argue. They trusted me 100%. Absolute trust.

Strangely, you can mix all 10 up, and they go back to their respect siblings and mother. Instinct? Smell? Not that the two mothers minded. There were times when they nursed each other’s pups too! 

I was busy again. I did lament the timing -  cutting short my stay at #9, but it was a responsibility I took seriously. Caring for two mothers “in confinement”, 10 pups. It was no easy task but I did just that. I had Chrissy’s help and in later years, with other litters, I had Pam’s.

We had a whale of a time.  Until another parting. Another round of many trips to see the “puppy dealer”, the uncle old man. This time, of course, as had been the case after Bobby’s first litter, I was not allowed to keep any.

NO, NO! There was one addition to my pets in the family – next story!

CHAPTER 2: BOBBY BECAME A MUM (THE JOY OF MOTHERHOOD)

Bobby became my constant companion. Whether I was fishing, hiking, catching butterflies or on one of my many pursuits, Bobby was there. When I came home from school, she was always the first to greet me. We were inseparable – sometimes, we (including an elder sister, Chrissy and my younger sister, Pam) had to ask her to stop following us when we were going to the market. Sometimes she became quite insistent and would continue to follow us until it dawned on her it was to a place she was not allowed – like going to the market!

Then, one day, without any warning, Bobby gave birth to her first litter. I didn’t know  it was going to happen but was too happy and excited to try to figure it out. 5 pups! I was just on cloud 9.  My mother was the midwife; she calmly attended to each new arrival like a pro while I was in jitters, worrying over whether Bobby was going to be alright and if the pups were fine. After each pup arrived, I kept asking “Ma, anymore? How many more, Ma?” Final count - 3 males and 2 females.

I had the time of my life,  fawning over Bobby and  the pups. Bobby showed how happy she was to be a mother, nursing the pups, nudging them, cleaning after them after they had urinated or done their business.  I didn’t know that pup could not see during the first 10-odd days after birth and that they had to  rely on their sense of smell. Occasionally, one of them would crawl away from Bobby  who would protectively move the pup back using her mouth, very gingerly.  I never ceased to be amazed - Bobby was a first time mother. How did she learn to do all these little things?

One of my biggest worries was when the time come for us to give up the pups for adoption because obviously we could not keep so many of them. And Bobby’s breastmilk was obviously not enough after a month or so and I had to cook for them separately, using unpolished rice (cheaper & more nutritious) fish mainly and it was getting expensive for me.

My father found a way out – sell it to an old man at the market. He has a shop selling  pups+. But I didn’t want to part with t hem. How will I explain to Bobby. So I dreaded the day when they were ready. And they were ready two months later  -  decided by my  mother. I pleaded with her and was finally allowed to keep one of the 5. I chose Maria  although I tried to keep Philip as well (Both names given to them by Chrissie). Finally Maria stayed simply because she seemed most attached to mum Bobby .

It was heartbreaking. Bobby went crazy but seemed to understand that the parting was necessary. She would keep sniffing at the basket in which I had placed the 4 pups and the basket was tied securely on my bicycle’s pillion seat I was grateful that at least she still got Maria. After allowing her one last sniff, one last goodbye to her litter of off-springs, my eyes brimming with tears, and not daring to look back at the mother and daughter watching me from the gate, I cycled off.

Her first litter yielded me, if I recall correctly, some 30 Malaysian ringgit, a princely sum in those days which I got to keep as  reward for looking after them but which I felt obliged to share with 2  sisters, one of whom was senior to me by one year (Chrissy, grandma to the Parkers & the Ratjes children) and the other Pam (youngest and mother to the Ellawanans).

Upon my return, with treats for Bobby & Maria, the both of them sniffed me all over and started whining, as if demanding to know what I have done with the rest of the litter. I couldn’t look them in the eyes………..

ME & YOU and A DOG  named BOB!    

A story I promised a girl named Amy Lee, the eldest of Generation 5,  descendant of the Matriarch of 9 Hong Kong Street 

http://storiesofhongkongstreet.blogspot.sg/

This should be an interesting read for all of Generation 5, including Stephanie, Crispin & Abigail as they grow up in the next few years and also for the soon to arrive member of the clan, “Smoothly”. Similarly, the descendants from the biological side of my family, the Khaws, the Tehs, the Laus, The Ellawanans, the Visvanandas, the Parkers, the Ratjes……they too could gain an insight or two what life was like for their parents/grandparents or great grandparents…..

CHAPTER 1: Bobby.........the beginning

I was born and raised for the first few  years of my life in Hong Kong Street, Penang. Born in house #5; grew up in house #9.

One day, when I was about 8 or 9, a black and white dog turned up in front of #9. A mongrel, probably abandoned. It was promptly adopted by the Matriarch of that large extended family of which I was, by then, very much a part of. The Matriarch was not my biological mother. Yet I would tell everyone that she was. I was not the Matriarch’s biological son. Yet she would tell everyone that I was. And for good measure, she would add “MY YOUNGEST SON!” But that is another story told earlier in this blog.

This story is about life’s lessons that I probably learnt from Bobby without realizing it.

Bobby, and I cannot remember how the name came about, was a “she” and till today, some 40 years since her passing, I could never bring myself to refer  to her by the  term that is used to describe a female dog!  That was how strong that boy and his best friend's relationship was.

So Bobby stayed with me in house #9.  She was probably one or two years old. The Matriarch’s grandchildren, Generation 3, were arriving at a fast and furious speed from the 3 of her eldest off-springs. Katherine, Siew, Hock (the Matriarch’s eldest grandson, from her eldest son) and Cheang were probably aged between one and four.

It became my responsibility to look after Bobby. And to feed her. Feeding her was a big issue. I could only feed her when everyone else had eaten. But we managed it. I would wake up in the middle of the night, remembering that my Bobby had not been fed. And walk down the stairs gingerly,  and Bobby would rush at me eagerly, knowing she was about to be fed.

A few months later, Bobby was allowed to be taken to my biological parents’ home. I am not sure how it came about but it must have been one of  the many “deals” I made with the Matriarch – that when the school holidays were over, I had to go back to my biological parents without putting up a fight. That I was not to cry. For that same scene must have happened many times over the years – crying, hiding behind the Matriarch, refusing to follow my biological parents or whichever of my elder biological siblings who was given the unenviable task of persuading me to go home . The scene was always painful, for the Matriarch, my biological parents and especially me. It took me years before I finally accepted my rightful place in my biological family, at the same time, not giving up my rightful place in my adoptive family. I was the youngest son in both.

So Bobby must have been the result of a deal I made with the Matriarch and came to live with me in a remote part of Penang called Ayer Itam. Not that remote -actually, not more than 15 kilometers away. But to a pre-teen like me at that time, it was a painfully long distance.

Bobby was subsequently replaced by a dog named OR LEONG (Black Dragon) back at #9, Hong Kong Street, a new stray adopted by the Matriarch about 3 or 4 years after Bobby was sent to stay with me at my other home. Wei, your papa will remember Or Leong. Carson, your papa too. 

Next chapter, I will go into how it was to live with Bobby and her daughter, Maria (yes, mother and daughter became a part of mine and some of my siblings life for many years - I am looking for old photos)