I didn’t know your name. But of my Cubbon Park friends, I loved you the most. Because you were old. And I have a thing for old people. I didn’t pet you, it’s true. Because my four-legged old person likes to be left alone too.
I found you in the park Sunday after Sunday feeding you a special box of rice and eggs while the others got bones. Maybe you’d have devoured bones too but I know the sound your rickety heart makes when you see something you shouldn’t be eating.
I always looked for you in the clearing outside the pay-and-use toilet. You would come wobbling by as my eyes adjusted to the rain trees painting light spots on the bright green grass. Your steps were unsteady but you were so sure of your territory in your marble cake skin. Unperturbed by the retrievers and the great danes having the run of the park. The quiet suspicion with which you eyed me and the quiet confidence with which you ate the food I offered, will remain with me.
As you lay forever in the lap of that beautiful rain tree, I hope your life was full of adventures. Of chasing after scents and finding surprise treats. You will always have a piece of my heart.