One Loss by Jason - HTML preview

ONE LOSS

Inspired by a True Story

JASON WU

As you mull over the exciting prospect of a long and extended break rather than all the words and numbers scattered in the many textbooks around, it is worth contemplating what the  term ‘break’ or ‘holiday’ actually means. Is it a time of continuous captivating fun with friends, a long time coming trip overseas to visit long forgotten family and friends, or simply the dull of having to find a summer job to pass the time? According to most common dictionaries, a ‘holiday’ can be defined as leisure time away from work devoted to rest or pleasure and of the three scenarios above, only the first seems to bear any slight resemblance to pleasure. I mean, how much actual fun can be achieved through spending a whole summer with your continuously nagging grandmother? Certainly, pleasure will be achieved in one way or the other during the break but how much fun is actually gained remains the major concern. It is all very easy to have a break at the end of a hard year but often, the most difficult aspect to achieve is to make it ‘great’ and to live up to the commonly uttered phrase - ‘have a great holiday’. Wise souls well before our years have suggested making the break ‘memorable’ and ‘unforgettable’ but my following experience lays onslaught to the above theory very much. My story is truly memorable, not only in terms of something that will be engraved in my mind forever, but also regarding an experience that has altered my view on life and mankind. However, the truth about whether it’s good or even ‘great’ is very questionable with certain aspects of it definitely up for discussion.

The morning of the 25th of November 2014 brought our family’s short trip around the South Island to Milford Sound. Described as one of the most beautiful places on Earth including the iconic Mitre Peak that rises more than a kilometre out of the sea, it was a trip that was being looked much forward to and expectedly, didn’t fail to meet our anticipations, with the photo limit on my iPhone reached much faster than expected. As we cruised back on the courtesy coach to our motel, the prospect of a lazy afternoon on the couch with our playful dog awaited. Alas, this wasn’t to be as we were met instantly by the motel owner with a bemused and puzzling look on his face as soon as we arrived. He glanced up at us and exclaimed in a seemingly joking voice – “Your dog has done a runner, we couldn’t catch him as he bolted out the door” after the usual banter and greetings. Jokes are well tolerated in this part of New Zealand, and knowing the etiquette around here, we followed the owner with startled and bewildered faces to our room, pondering over the trick he had up his sleeve for us. There was none though. He was saying the truth. To him, this was no big deal. A guest’s dog has run away, it’ll find its way back sooner or later. If not, too bad – it’s just a bloody dog. This was probably why our flabbergasted expression surprised him, pressuring him to start blabbering excuses about how it escaped, and how the few dribbles of rain on his shirt are cold hard evidence of him running around the City Centre like a madman trying to locate it. Unfortunately for him, this was not just any normal dog; this was a cute and friendly border collie that was and still is a treasured piece of the jigsaw in the family for the better part of 10 years.

We immediately started scouring the immediate area after the encounter, calling desperately for him but all was in vain. We never ventured far from the immediate vicinity so it was like we never actually believed our beloved dog would go missing and run away when mistakenly let out by the owner. After a few hours, the truth started to sink in as a feeling of denial drifted through our brains, the so-called first phase that occurs when you lose something you hold very dearly to yourself. Consequently, we went out in our car and scoured a larger face area with no luck but managed to come across a man walking his own precious dog. This marked the first stage of our journey because he suggested we report this incident to the local Southland District Council. He also reassured us that our dog would turn up shortly and that we shouldn’t worry too much, recounting his own experience of his lost companion.  The empathetic and understanding nature of both the man and the District Council amazed me, listening carefully to our hastened version of events and offering reassuring tones that everything would work out. No-one could predict the outcome of this event, but their manner of speech was almost enough to will the dog to walk back through the front door.

Thinking about the matter more carefully as I lay on the bed back home made me further comprehend the seriousness of the situation. Our dog has never been lost for as long as I can remember and this was not a setting he was familiar with, having just stayed in Te Anau for one night previously. He was also a very charismatic dog; furry and friendly so could have been easily picked up permanently by locals and to never return. Regrettably, this trait also made this incident dangerous because his amiable wandering would have easily pushed him into dangerous traffic situations, and judging by his poor negotiation of these tasks, the thought of an accident was very realistic and forever at the forefront of our minds. As my mind wandered off into the dark valleys of sleep, the second stage of dear loss started setting in – disbelief. Isn’t this just the sort of stuff that only happens in the news and not to you? Isn’t this the sort of stuff you casually read about in the newspaper and just feel sorry for? How could such a thing happen to us? All the joyful memories from when he was a tiny puppy at 6 weeks till now flooded into my mind as I drowned my sorrow at nothing in particular before wandering off into the dark wilderness of sleep.

It was dreadful getting ready for the Doubtful Sound trip early the next day, but as the fully paid trip was non-refundable and non-transferable, there was really no other option. Despite the spectacular scenery and breathtaking waterfalls exhibited (including being drenched by one), my heart was only in one place; to find out whether dad (who stayed at the motel) had located our dog. Unfortunately, it wasn’t to be but what did occur changed my outlook on the Te Anau community forever. Once the boss of the motel placed the news on their local Facebook page, the whole community had rallied to look for this missing creature and combined with our continued efforts of door knocking and asking whoever we could find, it was amazing that our dog persisted to elude our grasp. It was amazing to see the whole community getting behind one in need and helping out wherever possible. As a result, there were plenty of alleged sightings and mad dashes in the car to wherever we were called but all was to no avail as the dog was nowhere to be seen at any of these areas. All of a sudden, I started to wonder whether all these affirmations were really true and whether our dog was still truly alive. I began to lose faith in humanity and started to self-question myself. How could we not have found the dog by now? What if everyone who had seen him was lying? What if someone was hiding the dog and the community was just trying to cover his tracks with lame excuses? Seconds seemed like minutes and minutes seemed like hours but all of it happened in front of my eyes like a blur as we waited, knowing there was nothing else we could do but follow dead ends and hunt down non-existing clues.

What happened next was smart but heartbreaking at the same time. We were called to a refurbishing residential address (on Dusky Street) where a man had witnessed our dog lying tired but healthy on his paddock. He paused for a while before photographing it and then calling the authorities. God knows what sparked him to take the photograph when he saw our dog, but thankfully he did because his actions gave us renewed confidence regarding the state of our dog and cold hard evidence to work from. Nevertheless, you can imagine the raw emotion present on our faces as we were called to confirm the photograph evidence; it feels terrible, doesn’t it? It feels even worse than for example failing to identify your next of kin from a fatal accident because you know that they are still missing. It feels even worse than for example receiving a telegram that your family member fighting in a war is missing in action rather than killed in action. Sometimes, not knowing a fact is a thousand times harsher than knowing because a thousand questions float through your mind and you start to doubt everything you see and hear. What on earth has happened to him now? Is he alive or dead? Is there still hope to hold onto?

Nevertheless, thankful for a new lead, we reinvigorated our search as we continued to hunt the Dusky Street area, all the way till sunset on the 26th of November. By now, the police and dog ranger had got involved which could have muddled some sightings and everyone was on alert for a missing border collie with a white tip on his tail. The mere fact that even the police were out in force tells you something about the priorities hence crime rate of this town.

By the stage, even the motel owner had sensed something was seriously wrong with his previous nonchalant attitude all but gone, turning quite smartly into a concerned one, portrayed by him taking me out on an extended tour of the city that night to look for our missing pet. As I ventured with him on this journey, I got a further taste of how well bonded this community, the small town of around 1100 people, was and how almost everyone knew one another and would be more than willing to help when the time came. This was showcased when we unwittingly met a farmer on our little wander walking his 4 dogs while driving along his 4WD, who volunteered to look for our lost dog on the greasy tracks around the lakefront with his specially tailored vehicle. Everyone was very helpful and caring, showcasing the immensely loving nature of humankind, all willing to lend an arm or a leg to ensure that this situation received a happy ending. Even though all came to no success in the end, it was the actions that struck me and I thanked human nature profusely, which had well and truly come to life in Te Anau.

However, this was also the time where I saw and understood the true nature of a businessman, the motel owner, regardless of where his heart may lie. As one the more important community contacts for us, he was key in helping relay information to enable us to find our beloved pet, but as much as he would like to help out (that’s if he wanted to); he had to put his business first. Therefore, in all his interactions (including the conversation he had with the farmer), he could not admit that this was all of this chaos resulted from his mistake for fear of the lead-on effects for his business profits and earnings. This of course was understandable from a career perspective but all the more harder to take from a humane point of view, leaving us basically to fend for ourselves.

As I laid down to sleep that night, my mind was everywhere as a myriad of emotions overcame me, leaving my mind tangled and not knowing what to feel. From one angle there was the sense of gratitude from all the humane actions happening around me today, leaving hope that our dog would still be okay amongst the heavy rain and thunder at night. However, there were bitter tastes of anger from other angles, anger in the sense of why this has come over our family at this specific time. I had entered the next stage of dealing with heartfelt loss, anger at how our precious one hadn’t yet been found. It couldn’t be that hard, surely. There was probably only the one border collie present in the whole town and his distinctive colours and body shape would make him stand out from the crowd like a sore toe. Someone must catch him eventually, right? The mere thought of him lying somewhere amongst all the atrocities mother nature had in her reserve on an empty stomach was sickening but I held my reserve and prayed to the higher powers that tomorrow would be the day, after two long nights in the wilderness. The overriding mood was still dejection but there was a renewed sense of belief that tomorrow would be the day that we would find him. Consequently, we constructed a detailed plan of action for tomorrow, starting with the idea to camp in Dusky Street (his last confirmed sighting place) during the early morning, in hope of catching the dog as it rose to find food.

As planned in the following morning, we camped out in Dusky Street and continued our door knocking routine but our border collie was nowhere to be seen. There were no sightings of him either let alone photographs and a sense of worry began to replace the anger that was seeping over us because we knew we had to find him today or all was basically lost. After a long painful search, we determined by mid-morning that our dog had left the area in search of something and optimistically, was perhaps walking his own way back to the motel. His chances were slim though given the unfamiliar surroundings and the fact that Dusky Street where he was last seen was a very lofty distance away from the motel. It was like one side of Te Anau to another. Having said that, Te Anau itself isn’t that big so we still harbored hope that he would turn up.

Splitting up to search was deemed the next best option as we mulled through bushes and people’s gardens like nomads, screaming out in vain our dog’s name. Much to our surprise, my father got a phone call from a local regarding sighting of workers at the Fiordland Heritage Site holding border collie dogs and suggested we take a look. Meanwhile, I was stranded somewhere else in town but upon hearing the news, I desperately tried to make my way there but with no luck, given my geographically challenged nature. Given that, I went back to the place I knew best in town, our motel to ask the owner for directions. The boss looked knackered and worn out but considering he was a businessman, the tiredness was probably from the number of guests checking in the last few nights rather than looking for our dog. However, he still seemed more than happy to guide me in the correct direction.

As I edged towards the heritage site, I got a call that the border collie seen at Fiordland Heritage Site didn’t actually belong to us but to one of their new workers who apologized profusely for any misunderstanding and inconvenience. Hearing the news absolutely deflated me but fortunately, something happened at that exact moment that changed my life forever. It was lucky this happened because otherwise God knows what I would have done. The motel owner sped up alongside me in his car and told me to jump in; saying that one of the local vets called just after I had left the motel. They claimed to have sighted our missing dog and were currently in pursuit of it in their van, since calling out to it or chasing it on foot would just have in their experience, further frightened it and pushed it further into oblivion. Smart vet. We made our way to the Vet Centre on Govan Drive where we unexpectedly met the pursuing vet herself, who had regrettably lost contact with the dog. Nevertheless, they took us to the last place of sighting which was the walk bypass between Blairs Place and Eglinton Drive and suggested that I restart my search from there.

My mind at this point was again a mess, not knowing whether to trust the vet and put my full focus into finding our treasure there (due to having no cold hard evidence to work with) or to broaden the search into the surrounding pine trees, which seemed like excellent hiding spots to me. Perhaps these are the times where adrenaline kicks in because my mouth wouldn’t follow what my mind was thinking and just proceeded to shout out our dog’s name regardless as I aimlessly walked through the bypass. On the third shout, my peripheral vision flickered to something jumping out from the bushes behind me as my heart raced to see two large playful but relieved eyes looking up at me. I swear my mouth just drooped as saliva pooled and dripped from my gaping mouth as I just stared back into those loving eyes (God bless those insects on the ground underneath that I must have destroyed with all the liquid) as time stood still. How long I have been waiting for this ‘unforgettable’ moment to arrive! He was alive! I slapped myself on the face a couple of times to make sure I wasn’t dreaming before pulling him close, cuddling him and blabbering incoherent gibberish along the way, something along the lines of ‘I missed you so much’. I couldn’t contain myself at the immense relief and joy at seeing him after two painfully long days; however my first thoughts were always of how jubilant my parents would be, as they were closest to him.

It took me a while to regain my senses and to look for my ride who would take us back to the motel and our parent’s nervously waiting arms. As I ushered my dog to Eglinton Drive where the owner had promised to wait for me on the other side, I waited for what seemed like an eternity before he got there but that was all trivial compared to what I had in my grasp. Not even the mad tooting of the car horn that he claimed to have exercised to signal me to walk backwards to Blairs place was recognized. Not even a bomb exploding behind me would have drawn my attention away. All that mattered was the furry ball cuddled next to me, as alive and agile as ever. You can only imagine the raw emotion and immense alleviation that was inherent on my parent’s faces as we drove back safely to the motel.

By the time we all had a long and deserved rest and our dog had gobbled up all the titbits we had stored for him, we decided to take a walk around the town again, considering it was our last day in Te Anau. This time though, the dog was under our control, not roaming around freely into potentially hazardous situations. The owner smiled and gently waved at us and you could just feel a great sense of relief present inside him as we walked past his office. Regardless of how he acted and what he looked like to everyone on the outside, there was always a massive blanket of responsibility hanging on his conscience considering it was his actions that led to this incident. He would not have been affected much materialistically in terms of his business’s reputation and profits even if our dog hadn’t been found, but it would have been a terrible thing to have on your conscience day in day out, knowing that you were the one responsible for a breakup inside a very close family. Hence, knowing that he did something worthwhile in contributing immensely to the reunion must have made him one happy man, although it is something he probably will never talk or boast about and one wouldn’t be surprised.

As we sauntered past the lakefront of beautiful Lake Te Anau, what low-key relaxing walk we had in mind quickly turned into something along the lines of a celebrity red-carpet event. Almost everyone who saw us on our walk recognized our dog and pointed at it in amazement, as if to alert us to the fact that they had found the missing creature, which had been plastered all around their local Facebook page. Nevertheless, everyone seemed genuinely happy for our reunion but none were as content as my parents, who were immensely glad that our dog would continue to be a part of their lives. This seemed to be the main focus of every conversation as we were told by everyone what a relief finding it must have been, but we didn’t mind one single bit. We didn’t forget to thank each and every one of them either for their time and energy in this operation, because even though it was eventually only one person who led us towards the final result, the whole process was definitely a committed team effort.

We had much fun on the rest of our trip with the dog constantly by our side, desperate to inhale our every breath after his ordeal and we ended our time with an exhilarating jet boat ride in Queenstown featuring their famous 3600 spin. In the end, I think we definitely achieved the goal of having a ‘memorable’ holiday although the jury is still out on whether it was ‘great’. I guess though the expression of a ‘great holiday’ has many connotations but the trip was definitely unforgettable, not only in finding our dog at long last, but also getting a first-hand experience of human nature and small rural communities rallying around each other when in need. All in all, this was a truly unforgettable holiday and a ‘great’ way to ‘celebrate’ my 20th birthday.

ONE LOSS

When a relaxing and soothing holiday of the South Island of New Zealand goes awry, it seems like the family in question only has themselves to rely on. What they didn’t count on is what truly lies at the heart of human nature and mankind; who work together to make their journey truly unforgettable. Whether their actions make for a ‘great’ holiday is up to your own interpretation because the nature of something being ‘unforgettable’ doesn’t automatically mean its great, unlike what most people say and think. In this circumstance, the actions of an entire community make for a holiday you do not want to miss.