I miss my rural dog Hualian

I miss my rural dog Hualian.

I just want to miss my rural dog.

Her name is Hualian. She is a small rural dog, small, black and white, and then she was given such a casual name. She has been in our house since we moved from the east end of the village to the center of the village. She is not picky about food. She eats whatever she can get. She doesn’t have a nest. She usually sleeps under the eaves of our door.

When my brother was young, she followed him when he went out to play, followed him out and came back. When my mother went out to play mahjong, she followed her and nested under the mahjong table, and then came back together. In the yard at night, she would bark when there was any movement, and then my father would stick his head out of the upstairs window to see what was going on. When we meet people, our relatives never bark. When we meet strangers or when there is wind and ice at night, they bark a lot, but they just bark and never bite people.

When I go out to school, before I open the gate of the yard, she knows it’s me by the sound of footsteps. She barks behind the door, jumps happily, rushes to me, asks me to touch her chin and belly, and lies on the ground with her belly exposed and rolls.

Later, my mother took my brother to school in the city, I went to college in another city, and my father worked in other cities for a long time. There was basically no one at home, only her. No one cooked for her. She went out to find food by herself through the small hole in the sewer. Then she would go home to watch the yard at night. Because my second aunt lived in the same village as us, not far away, she would occasionally come to visit and bring her some leftovers. Every time I opened the door at night, I could see her. She was always waiting, waiting for her family to return. She never blamed us. Every time we went home, she would still shake her head and be very happy. But every time we left, she would chase us for a long time, and would not stop until we left the village. In

the two years when we were away, she gave birth to two litters of puppies, but they were all given away or sold by my second aunt. In the end, there was only one little white dog left, which was fatter than her. No one was at home, but she took the little white dog to find food and it was so fat. I don’t know where it found it. I guess it was very sad when looking for food. Then she still took her son to watch the house at night, staying in the dilapidated yard. That winter, Hualian was not very happy and didn’t want to move. His belly was bloated and his eyes gradually lost their luster. When he saw us, he could only wag his tail vigorously. We were all worried that he wouldn’t survive. After all, he was already an eight-year-old dog. He wouldn’t eat much even if we fed him eggs or big bones. We were really afraid that we would have to say goodbye to him. But after ten days or so, he was as cheerful as before and we were relieved.

Then we continued our usual lives. Some went to school, some went out, and some continued to watch the house… Until one day, my second aunt called and said that our dog was run over and killed by a passing car while playing outside… Oh, I won’t say anymore. I’ve never raised a dog again. Hualian, may you rest in peace in heaven. May you meet a good owner in the future and don’t meet a dog like ours again.