The Wagging Tale of Ginger
“You can say any foolish thing to a dog, and the dog will give you a look that says, ‘Wow, you’re right! I never would’ve thought of that!’” — Dave Barry
For as long as I can remember, I have always wanted to have a dog. Not just any dog, but a big dog. And not just any big dog, but a Golden Retriever.
Unfortunately, growing up, I had the worst allergy with fur & dust. From the time I was little, I would always beg my Dad to adopt a dog. He would always say “I know…but let’s wait until you’re older & your allergy gets better.” I read many books of Golden Retriever, and how to take care of one. I even had a notebook dedicated to my future pal. I had a list of names , I took notes of tips & tricks, and I even drew my dream dog.
As I grew older & my allergy got better, I felt like my dream of adopting one was getting closer. So close, yet so far — it slipped away again when my sister was born (she was 7 years younger than me). She had an even worse allergy than me. I had to shove my dream back into this dark box, and lock it for another unknown number of years… but I always kept the key close to my heart, and I waited again so patiently every single day for the next ~8 years.
“A dog can’t think that much about what he’s doing, he just does what feels right.”―Barbara Kingsolver
Ginger came to my life in the most perfect, unexpected way…
It was 2009, I was 15 years old—quite an emotional year. My family was grieving with my grandma ‘Oma’ passing away the morning of May 16th.
One day, sometime between the month of July-September, I was in the car with my parents. It was a Saturday, Mom & I were picking my Dad up from his office (he had to work half-day that particular Saturday). I wasn’t sure why, but I had had a strange feeling in my heart that whole week, like something exciting was about to happen. I wasn’t sure if it would be good or bad. All I felt was the continuous jolt of excitement throughout the week, like someone I had been expecting for so long finally started knocking on my door. Then it happened…
We drove straight to Golden Top Kennel, a Golden Retriever breeder not too far from my house. It all became so real, so very quick. I could hear the barks, I could smell the smell, I could sense the excitement. Not sure if it was me or the dogs in that kennel who were more excited—I guess we found our way to each other, one way or the other!
I immediately found myself surrounded by all these talkative little monsters. I was just extremely exhilarated and emotional—they were right in front of my eyes, and I could touch them, without being worried that I would be having runny nose & morning coughs.
She stood out from the rest of the crowd. She was uncontrollable, the fiercest monster of them all. She was only 5 months old. Her fur was light brown in color, like a subdued latte, an almost-perfect caramel. There was a stripe of white next to her left front leg—a birth mark she retained as she grew older. Her eyes were beaming, tongue all the way out, saliva everywhere, her tail wagged like an out-of-control water hose with joy & excitement. But as soon as I put my hand on her head, she immediately stood still like a living statue… savoring every single bit of touch, only her tail kept wagging furiously.
The next thing I knew, she had a new home.
“When an eighty-five pound mammal licks your tears away, then tries to sit on your lap, it’s hard to feel sad.”—Kristan Higgins
I named her Ginger.
Definitely because of her color, but also because of her personality. She had a spiciness in her, a flavor that could be foreign, yet humble & familiar. She was bold and tomboyish. She was distinct. She added a different taste to every single situation, and she continued to surprise me every single day. She was stubbornly solid, hard to get rid of & be disciplined, yet so lovable. She was ingeniously sneaky, spiciness peering among other flavors.
In a strange way, she reminded me a lot of Oma, who we just lost a few months before Ginger came to our life. Oma was a bold, fierce fighter in her youth days — her spirit & self-determination were always burning, even on her last day on Earth. Ginger was just like that! I think she came to our life when we, as a family, needed her the most.
Though she created countless problems — nibbling on electric cables, destroying my Mom’s beloved freshly planted flowers, eating plastic, eating her own poop, playing (killing) frogs, made me fall down on the asphalt due to her incredible burst of force when she saw kids playing balls, and peed on the terrace all the time — I loved her so much.
I would sit on the bench of my backyard right after school, and she would immediately jump and lay her head on my lap. We would eventually take quick naps together. When she was recovering from her surgery, I would wake up at 5 am to take care of her healing stitches, and took her on a morning walk before I went to school at 6 am. My Dad & I would drive outside of town to take her swimming or go to an open public park during the weekend. A simple tennis ball game of fetch was already a blast for her. The next 3 years of my life was filled with joy, sprinkled with a bit of hilarious frustrations every time she ate her own poop, though those moments quickly turned into laughter most of the times..
“Nobody can fully understand the meaning of love unless he’s owned a dog. A dog can show you more honest affection with a flick of his tail than a man can gather through a lifetime of handshakes.” — Gene Hill
Going off to college in 2012 was the hardest time for me.
I wasn’t just moving short-distance temporarily, I was moving to the opposite side of the world permanently. Ginger stayed with my parents in Jakarta, while I moved to Iowa, USA. I was devastated knowing that it meant I had to let go of Ginger after only just 3 years.
The next 6 years, I managed to go back to Jakarta three times, and Ginger would always still remember all the tricks I taught her when she was still a pup. She would still remember my voice, my tone, my body gestures, and the way I would play games with her.
When my parents had to move out to a smaller apartment in 2018, we all knew that we had no other choice than to give her to another loving family. It was just impossible to have her inside a small apartment, and frankly, it was not the best living situation for her. It was probably one of the hardest things we had to do, and I remember crying when I heard the news.
After lots of prayers, we found the perfect family for her. And although it was the most difficult decision we ever had to do, I knew that everything was meant to be.
“A dog will teach you unconditional love. If you can have that in your life, things won’t be too bad.” — Robert Wagner
I still miss her every single day.
But I also thank God that He made everything worked out in such a beautiful way. My 3 years with Ginger was well worth the 15 years I had waited for her to come into my life. And it actually brought some teary smiles on my face writing this article, knowing that she had found her heavenly retirement home.
“Dogs come into out lives to teach us about love, they depart to teach us about loss. A new dog never replaces an old dog. It merely expands the heart.” — Author Unknown
