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)