Golden Girl

I have had a very difficult few days but have finally found the courage to edit this story. My wife and I had to make the most difficult decision of our life's on September 24-2022. We helped Mei Li end her pain and cross the Rainbow bridge. She has given us so much and in an act of pure love for her we broke our hearts into a million pieces.

Also for those that make it to the end of the story Andrea did make it back to Toronto this summer to see her littermate one more time.

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She entered our hearts in August 2009, and our family has been blessed with a Golden Girl’s unconditional love ever since.

My wife immigrated to Canada from China in early 2004, and we spent the first few years together living in a condo in Toronto’s east end.

We both loved the outdoors and would walk almost every evening in a beautiful old neighbourhood up the street from our Condo.

Friends of ours owned a trailer on a lake in a small town, about a two-hour drive north of Toronto. We would visit them for weekend getaways a few times each summer and grew to love our time there. So when the opportunity came up to buy a trailer in the same park as our friends, we discussed it for five minutes before driving up to the park and making an offer face to face. After a little negotiating, they accepted our offer, and we became the proud owners of our own getaway spot.

Even though we gave up the trailer after a few years because of changing circumstances at the park and in our lives, we both agree it was the best thing we ever did.

If we had not purchased the trailer, I most likely would not have been at the park on the day that I rescued “Mei Li” from an abusive owner.

We had bought our house, in the neighbourhood that we loved to walk, the year before. It had a huge backyard that backed onto a forested ravine with a small river running thru it. It was a perfect place for a dog to run and play.

In August 2009, my daughter and I went to the trailer alone to do some repairs; my wife had to work that weekend and couldn't join us.

That Sunday morning, my daughter went down to the small campground area by the lake to visit friends while I finished up some things at the trailer. She was gone less than twenty minutes when she burst back into the trailer, all excited. She knew I was looking for a dog and that I loved Golden Retrievers. Apparently, there was a family camped by the lake that had Golden pups for sale, so before I had a chance to think, she grabbed my arm and forcefully dragged me to the campsite.

It was ten o’clock in the morning when we arrived at the site to see a man and a woman with beer cans in their hands as they argued loudly over the Barbeque they were trying to start.

The cooking area was behind their tent, and they didn't see us as we approached. There was a large grassy area in front of the tent with three or four Golden pups rolling around and playing with each other. Closer to the tent, close to the entrance, was another pup that seemed much smaller than the others. It looked a little shaky and was trying to relieve itself as we walked towards the tent. As we got closer, the woman, who seemed a little drunk, walked around the side of the tent and seeing what the pup was doing, started kicking it away from the tent as she swore at it. I could see that the puppy was trembling as it scrambled away from this giant thing that was hurting it and hid under the picnic table out of reach.

I couldn’t believe what I was seeing and raised my voice, “Hey. What the hell are you doing?”

She turned when I spoke, and I could see now that she was more than a little drunk. She looked at me for a second before replying, “Why what the hell is it to you?”

My anger rose by the second, but my fear of what she would do to that dog after I left took over, and I calmed down before speaking.

“I’m here because I’m interested in buying one of the pups.”

Her attitude changed in the blink of an eye, and she stumbled towards the pups playing in the grass as she asked if I wanted a male or female.

She was trying to pick up one of the dogs when I stopped her and said, "I'm interested in that one," as I pointed at the one hiding under the picnic table.

She laughed and said, “You don’t want that one. It’s useless and has some kind of hip problem. You won’t be able to breed her.”

My anger rose again, and I stared at her for a few seconds before saying, "I don't care because I have no intention of breeding her. How much do you want?"

I left that campsite with four hundred dollars less in my pocket and a trembling puppy in my arms and have never looked back.

When I got home later that day and walked in with the puppy in my arms, my wife looked at me surprised and asked, “Who owns him? He’s so cute.”

I smiled and said, “It’s not a boy, it’s a girl, and she's yours."

She squealed as I handed the puppy to her, “Oh my God, she’s beautiful. What’s her name?”

I asked, "what's the Chinese word for beautiful" and my wife replied, "Mei Li."

Mei Li has been part of our family for twelve years now and is loved by everyone that knows her. She has grown up being scratched and hugged and played with by our grandkids and niece and nephew. She has always been included in things we do or places we go, and because of the gentle soul that she is, all our friends insist that we bring Mei Li whenever we visit.

She especially loves children and is beside herself with joy whenever we have large gatherings with lots of kids around. There's a running joke amongst all our adult friends. They all say that "Mei Li doesn't know she's a dog. She thinks she's one of the kids."

She has never been caged or tied and has just as much freedom in the house as I do. The backyard is her kingdom, and she likes to let the squirrels and rabbits know that. But most of all, she wants to be wherever we are.

She's getting old now, almost twelve, and it's showing. She has trouble getting up from the floor or using the stairs because of hip problems and pain in her rear legs.

I feel a pain in my heart when I see her struggle as she tries to come downstairs to be with us.

I watched her from our rear window the other day as she sat in the sun for a while before struggling to come back in.

I in no way claim to be a poet and apologize in advance to the many real poets out there.

The words below came to me as I watched her that day.

Old Girl

Not as spry as she used to be

Trouble standing and walking now

Fear; as she looks down the stairs

Wanting to be there; with me

Old hips and legs; give her pain now

The running, she used to enjoy

Is just an old memory

She gets down; through fear, somehow

Outside; she just sits in the sun

Watching the birds and rabbits play

No fear of her, do they feel

Getting closer as they run

Groundhog; she sees digging a hole

Angry; she gets while watching him

Scare him; using her loud voice

It's all she has; Legs too old

Through the window, I see her pain

Trying to stand and come back in

Pausing; at the three-deck stairs

Gaining courage, once again

The vet said; it’s her family

12 years is a long time for her

Tears in my eyes, for her pain

I hold "Old Girl" close to me.

Mei Li has a special relationship with our niece, Andrea, who was born and lives in California.

She first met Mei Li at seven years old and is nineteen now. Whenever Andrea was in Toronto, which was every year or two, she and Mei Li were inseparable.

They would even sleep together at the bottom of our bed, on the floor with several blankets as a mattress.

We haven't had Andrea visit in a couple of years because of the pandemic, but whenever we do a video call, she wants to see Mei Li. When Mei Li hears her voice, she gets excited and moves closer to the phone. I genuinely believe that Mei Li thinks of Andrea as her littermate and recognizes her voice instantly.

My greatest hope right now is that this pandemic ends soon so that Andrea can travel to Toronto and spend a little time with her littermate before it's too late.