Sunday, April 10, 2011

Muc: My Dog, My Friend

I had a  dog in my childhood years.  His name was Muc 'meaning ink' because his hair color was all black. He followed me everywhere, from the beginning of the village to the end  He even climbed the mountain with me and waited for me at the foot of the tree when I was up on the tree.

My family lived in a small village, almost like a farm area here.  We had mountain, river, brook and not too far there was the beach. We had a pigpen, many chickens and even rabbits, but Muc was my favorite.  He was my best friend.

We liked to run in the rain, sliding down a small dirt hill or to go swim in the river.  My favorite time with him was when we chased after the small yellow chicks and angered their parents so we could get chased by the mommy and daddy chicken.  I did not think Muc was scared of the chickens, but if I ran he would follow me.

I have many  beautiful memories with him but my last one with him was when we played in the flooding water overflowed from the river crawling into our front yard.  He was so happy when we caught crickets coming out from the holes.

That was my last time having fun with my best friend for the water got higher into our home, I was ordered by my mom to go upstairs and Muc was still downstairs enjoy his swimming in the water.  He did not know the current could got stronger and it took him out of my house swirling all the way to the brook  and out of my sight, out of my life.

Chapter 3 of my memoir, Child of Vietnam, is published in Kartika Review.