When John and I returned to his home in the countryside, we had a new voice — or should I say, sound — marking our arrival: a dog’s barking.
To be sure, this wasn’t exactly a welcome. The dog, who looked like a miniature German Shepherd, growled and bared its teeth, until my mother-in-law admonished him and shooed him away, to let us in the door. Well, he was only doing his job, as my mother-in-law put it: “He’s a guard dog.”
How could John and I have known then that the dog, affectionately known as Xigou, would become one of our favorite companions during the summer? We whiled away many a blissful moment just rubbing his belly or chasing him playfully around the yard. Even when we left John’s family home, we took pictures with Xigou and gave him one last belly rub, which caused the little guy to roll over excitedly many times.
But, for Xigou, it wasn’t all wanton pleasure, all the time — especially when John’s godfather, who had given the dog to John’s family, came over to see the dog. I once peered out a bedroom window, where I saw Xigou recoil timorously before the godfather, who then whipped him a couple of times — not for any obvious transgression by Xigou, but almost as if to remind Xigou of his subservience in the grand scheme of life there. Xigou yelped desperately, perhaps hoping someone like me or John would protect him from the pain. Continue reading “The Dog Days of My China Summer”
