05/06/2026
《我和骨癌哥哥的約定》
——滑板狗聖誕節的故事
#傑克羅素 #滑板狗 #飛盤狗
Meeting for the First Time
On a bright and sunny afternoon, I saw him for the first time.
That day, he was accompanied by his parents, who were pushing him in a wheelchair as they came to watch me skateboard. Back then, I thought it was so strange: "How come this person is sitting in a stroller like me, but needs someone else to push them? Unlike me, I can just coast and slide around all by myself."
Later, I heard from my dad that he was an overseas Chinese who had returned from Brazil. He loved animals and used to be a veterinarian. Because he developed bone cancer in his forties, he retired early and came back to his home country to recuperate.
Although I didn’t quite understand what bone cancer meant, the moment I heard he was a doctor, I immediately thought of getting injections. So at first, I kept trying to avoid getting close to him. But when I saw him looking at me on my skateboard with a gentle smile, I gradually let my guard down.
Fun and Flying Frisbees
And this person is actually so much fun!
Seeing how happy I could make him just by practicing skateboarding every day made me feel a sudden surge of pride. So, I would give it my all, performing every trick in the book just to keep him entertained. And I, too, felt just as happy.
Later, I heard my dad say that every single time he finished chemotherapy, he would be in immense pain. Yet, his family would always bring him to see me skateboard. They said:
"Watching Christmas skateboard is the only time we ever get to see a smile on his face."
I didn’t really understand what pain was—was it like getting poked by a needle? But I knew that if someone needed me, I had to work even harder to perform for them.
Even though my dad often gets reported or fined because he takes me out to perform, he always just smiles and says: "As long as we're doing a good deed, getting fined doesn't matter." So every time he comes over, I bring out the newest tricks I've learned, including catching flying frisbees. Seeing him laugh so hard that his eyes crinkle up—that is always my happiest moment.
A Special Connection
There was one time when I saw him looking right into my eyes.
That gaze felt as though he desperately wanted to hold me. Honestly, I really wanted to jump right onto his lap, too. I was just afraid of getting scolded by my dad. Just as I was hesitating, his brother came over, lifted me up, and placed me gently on his lap.
At that moment, he used the only arm he could still move to hold me close. I snuggled deep into his arms as he kept gently stroking me. I couldn't stop showering him with kisses. He didn't mind my drool at all—unlike my dad, who complains about it every single day for some reason!
In that exact split second, it felt as if we could see right into each other's hearts. Without a single word spoken, a profound sense of joy washed over us. From that day on, I knew that whenever he came over, I could jump straight onto his lap. My dad wouldn’t scold me anymore. Every time we met, I would eagerly leap onto his lap, sharing a happiness that belonged only to the two of us.
Sometimes, I’d even drag my little friend, Yuan-Bao, along to play with him. Even though the two of us didn’t exactly practice proper sportsmanship—often teaming up two-against-one to play with the only hand he could move—he never once got upset. He would always smile and playfully mess around with us.
The Farewell
Looking at him, I hoped he would temporarily forget the agony of chemotherapy. I thought to myself: Is he getting better? He should be cured very soon, right?
But normally, he would come to see me every single week. Suddenly, a long time went by, and he didn't show up. One day... two days... a week... two weeks... He still didn't come. I started overthinking. Could it be that he got better? Or did he just forget about me?
Then, on a drowsy afternoon, my dad suddenly put on clothes that were different from what he usually wears. He even wore proper shoes instead of his usual sandals to take me out. We rode the scooter for over an hour.
We arrived at a place near the mountains with many large halls. Inside every hall hung a large photograph, and most of the people there were elderly. As my dad led me into one of the large halls, I froze. Because I saw him. His photograph was hanging high up right in the center.
I thought to myself: He must be hiding inside, waiting for me to go play with him, right?
But the atmosphere today felt so strange. His mother wouldn't stop crying, and everyone else was completely quiet—so unlike before, when they would see me and happily cheer: "Christmas! Christmas is here!" Because of that, I didn't dare misbehave. I could only sit quietly on the chair, watching people bow one by one toward his picture. My dad held me as we bowed three times toward the photo, too.
An Everlasting Promise
Finally, it was our turn. My dad carried me up to the very front. I saw him—only this time, he wasn't sitting in his wheelchair. He was resting quietly inside a wooden box. He was dressed so neatly, with his eyes closed, not saying a single word. He didn't even open his eyes to look at me.
I secretly thought to myself: Just wait until I find you, see if I don't cover your face in drool!
I didn't understand why we hadn't seen each other for so long, only for him to seem like a completely different person. Just as my dad held my paw, gently touched the flowers, and placed them on him, I suddenly heard a familiar voice echo from deep within my heart:
"It's me! Christmas, I'm sorry I haven't come to play with you for so long. It's because someone came to take me away. They took me to a place free from sickness, free from chemotherapy, and free from pain. I came to find you today just to say goodbye."
"This is our very last meeting. You wouldn't want me to keep suffering in pain, right? After I'm gone, I need you to keep helping those who need it. Bring them the same joy you brought me, and make them just as happy, okay?"
I stood frozen in my dad's arms, listening to that voice slowly fade away until it could be heard no more. At that exact moment, I finally cried out from the bottom of my heart: "Goodbye!"
"Even though I never knew your name, this is the promise between us. I will definitely keep it. I will keep skateboarding, I will keep bringing joy to everyone, and I will give strength to every single person who needs a smile."
Because those who leave us never truly depart. They simply transform into a beam of light that stays in our hearts forever. Our beautiful promise will continue to shine, on and on, for a very, very long time.
