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Four-footed angels |
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This Christmas, Christians from all over will be thinking about the very first Xmas more than 2,000 years ago, which marked the birth of a very special child. Some will recall how three wise men from the East were guided mysteriously by a shining star to the place where the infant lay. Others will probably be enchanted by mental images of a brilliant concert held in the night skies by a band of angels singing, as shepherds watched in rapt attention on the fields below. But for me, the most striking nativity scene yet is where the real event took place; and who or what kind of creatures had the best seats in the house. Though the Good Book does not explicitly mention animals, it’s really no wonder to me why the special babe at Christmas – instead of a posh inn – chose to make his grand debut on earth in a warm and humble manger where oxen, sheep, perhaps a cat, dog and other livestock made their abode. And I wonder if this could well be one of the earliest indicators of animal-assisted therapy where humans find great comfort among their presence. My love affair with animals started during my childhood. I was able to walk with a severe limp on my right leg then. This was several years before a botched surgery on my good leg left me paralysed for life at the age of 10. I had saved a young chick once – which was attacked by a crow – and raised it until it turned into a young hen. My heroism gave me a sense of accomplishment in knowing that despite being different from other kids, I managed to give a dying bird a new lease of life. More importantly, I had found a feathered friend. |
Then one evening, I discovered my pal in the cooking pot. I tried befriending a stray cat next, and even smuggled food from the dinner table to feed the cat. Everything went on swimmingly until it bit and scratched me one day, ending our short-lived relationship. With the onset of my paralysis, my hopes of finding a pet friend was crushed. After being confined to a wheelchair, I quit school, and gave up any idea of having pets again. I was so wrong! Twenty-five years later, I decided to get myself a Rottweiler. I don’t know where my sudden courage came from, but everyone who knew me put fear in me by saying that I had done “a terrible mistake” by bringing home “a monster dog.” Well, it turned out to be the best “mistake” I had ever made in my life! For one, the black-and-rust-coloured, eight-week-old pup and I had something in common – we were both terribly misunderstood by people and society because of our looks. Vai came into my life at a critical point; I did not even realise that I was slowly slipping into depression despite considering myself an active disability advocate. My faith in non-disabled people – namely decision-makers who could make a difference for us – began to ebb. I started assuming that there were more uncaring people out there than there were people who really cared for the disabled. These and other silly thoughts crept into my mind. |
But Vai would have none of that. He needed to be fed, cleaned, hugged and kissed almost 24 hours a day. There was no time to mope around as far as the Rottie was concerned. I had to learn creative ways to look after him. He wouldn’t take sitting in a wheelchair as an excuse for me to shirk my responsibilities.Vai helped me discover that I could still give him a bath from my wheelchair with certain adjustments made to the bathing area. Wheelchairs no longer carry a “helpless creature” image when you’ve a 40kg Rottweiler gently pulling you with his body strength when out for walks. This year marks our 10th Christmas together, and the big and muscular dog has earned his place as top dog in his multiple roles to help me face life’s everyday challenges. Two other dogs have since joined the fold. Vai is my faithful guardian, companion and par excellence service dog all wrapped in one. His favourite place to retire for the night is still the same spot as it was when the robust puppy came to live with me – under my wheelchair, next to my bed in my room. When it comes to understanding people who use wheelchairs, no one knows the art better than Vai. Have a blessed Xmas! |
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