There used to be a flat area of grass next to the tennis courts at the park nearby. When I was younger I'd run off to the park every evening until dinner.
There also used to be a couple who brought their dog there every evening for training. When I knew they did so, I started to bring mine too. Only just did I remember that perhaps I had fallen in love with her then.
They were old (adult!) when I knew them, but perhaps now they not that old to me anymore. The lady wore her hair short, wore her clothes tight, and wore her sneakers often. She spoke kindly to me, and gave Snowy doggy treats. (She was the reason I learned that dogs can be given doggy treats every once in a while- although later I tended to spoil my dogs.) The man was quieter, showed up less often, but had the same enthusiastic energy she had. They were dog trainers, I remember her explaining to me. To me it was a vague concept, a hobby. I imagined her having some office work. I imagined him poring over blueprints. I don't imagine such things for anyone anymore, for it is unfair and I have learned better.
Groovy the dog was (if I am not mistaken) a Jack Russell terrier. I am not biased when it comes to breeds, I pick all my dogs from SPCA. Jack Russell terriers, however, has always been the one breed that I absolutely adore. (At least now I know why.) He was very well-trained, playing Fetch, doing tricks, performing for us. He also had a bit of an attitude, a bite to match his bark, and I have never been able to give him a full tummy rub. (My dogs, on the other hand, expose their furry tummies to anyone who bothers to pet them.)
In the beginning I thought the lady and the man were married. I brought it up, abruptly, in conversation, the way only a 9 year old can without sounding rude. She laughed and said no. They weren't married, but they were living together. I was delightfully scandalised to learn such a thing, for my mother would never approve of such thing, and it was such a greatly different way of life than what I knew then. However I prodded no further and also never mentioned it to my parents, lest they decide that they were bad influence and not allow me to see them or Groovy the dog. (Groovy the dog is always Groovy the dog, Groovy the dog can only be called 'Groovy' by the lady.)
It may seem rude that I do not know (or remember) their names, and I do agree that it's not ideal. Yet despite seeing them everyday and playing with their dog, until the time came for me to stay at home even during the evenings, it never quite dawned on me that I should know their names.
A few years after seeing them one last time, I saw Groovy the dog again on a newspaper article about a dog show. They won first place. I suppose it clicked in my head that they were really not the sort of adults I had been taught to believe. I did attempt to search for them online, but nothing came up. Again I promptly forgot them.
Yesterday I thought I saw a woman walking a dog that reminded me of Groovy the dog. I was in my car, at the traffic light on Jalan Ara, and out of the corner of my eye I thought I saw the adult who had changed my life more than they (nor I) could ever imagine.
Thanks to her, I found out that not everyone lives their life like how I have been taught to live mine. Thanks to her, I found out that not everyone treats their dog as, simply, a dog. Thanks to her I learned that you can be friends with a 9-year-old.
I don't remember her name, and she very likely doesn't remember me at all. But she inspired me to break out of the conventional mould simply by being herself. You never know who you can inspire, and you never know when.
Cheers to childhood memories!
