The Shih Tzu With The Spirit of A Lion in Bangkok: The Story Of How I Got My First Dog

I recently posted a photo on Instagram of my first dog — a bold and loving Shih Tzu named Furby — and I got a lot of comments and questions about him. Furby existed in the pre-Instagram days and it turns out very few people know I had another dog before Milo.

What’s ironic about the whole thing is that when Furby was in my life, I always said “I wish there was a way I could put up pictures of Furby to document his life and share it with others”. Like I said, Furby was prehistoric in terms of social media.

So I thought I’d share Furby’s story on my blog. He will always be the best thing to have ever happened to my family and let me tell you why.

The year was 1994. I think it was my 8th birthday or close to it and I kept asking my parents for a dog. Whenever we were out and about and I saw a pet store, I went and stared at the puppies in the window longingly. After bugging my parents repeatedly, my mom simply said “When you’re 13 and old enough to understand and take on responsibility for a dog, we’ll get one”.

I should have known this would also be my first lesson in parenting: kids remember stuff — don’t make a promise you don’t plan to keep and/or hope they will forget.

So in between my 8th and 13th birthdays, I think we had all kinds of other pets including bunnies, goldfish and even babysitting someone’s birds because I never gave up on my quest to have an animal BFF. On the morning of my 13th birthday, I woke up and simply said “Mom, I’m thirteen. Remember your promise? Let’s go get a dog.”

I distinctly remember my mom doing research by reading books on dogs and asking around on how and where to get a dog and which breed to get. There was no Google. My dad was still very, very skeptical about this promise he made to his animal-obsessed teenage daughter; all he said was “Ankita, we’ll look and research properly, I can’t promise that we will get one today”. Sure, dad. Sure.

So there we were unsure parents and a crazy teenager off to “research” puppies. Let me cut a very long story short: one look at this adorable Shih Tzu puppy excitedly jumping at us and that was it. The rest is history.

Furby joined our family in September 1999 and was there for so many of my major life milestones: high school graduation, university graduation, post-grad entrance exams, and my wedding.

I have the fondest memories of Furby lighting up our days and nights with his antics and boss dog behavior. I loved how he always knew when a family member was coming home and signaled it to us by sleeping with his nose pointed at the front door and eyes wide open, waiting in anticipation. And with the same passion letting us know when someone he didn’t like was at the door with his shrill “stranger danger” bark.

Coming home to him after a long day at school was just amazing. Furby loved to play his version of fetch which consisted of me throwing a toy and him retrieving it but coming back only half way and sitting down, clearly telling me “Now, you fetch.”

He was my sidekick and best friend. He let me do whatever I wanted to him — halloween costumes, crazy hairstyles, pre-wedding photoshoot prop and even put highlighter on his head — and never complained. The highlighter incident was when he refused to get off my GRE books when I was studying so I let him have it.

He had a unique bond with each family member. My brother was Furby’s nemesis in the hiding of favourite toys and snacks department. If he saw my brother walking from across the house, Furby darted towards whatever toy or treat was lying out in the open, grabbed it quickly and held onto it for dear life as he gave my brother the suspicious stink eye and waited as he passed. Let’s just say it wasn’t all in Furby’s head.

I eventually got busier at school and left for university, Furby then spent a lot of time with my mom and became her baby and favourite child. When he got a bit older, my mum discovered he likes eating boiled potatoes and chickpeas, tomato soup and rice, lychee, guava, mango. How did she find out? Whenever any of the above foods and fruits were cut or cooked and he got a whiff, Furby would sit on the kitchen floor and demand he be given whatever was on the kitchen counter — whether it was edible or cooked properly was irrelevant. And that’s how my Furby and my mom’s special bond and secret dialogues began. Very often, I would see Furby come and complain to my mom in low growls and a full blown conversation followed:

Furby: “Urrrrrr”
Mom: “What happened Furby?”
Furby: “Urrrrr urrrrr”
Mom: “What do you want?”
Furby: “Urrrr”
Mom: “Oh is it ghoomi (Hindi for going out) time?” / “You want your snack?” / “You want your vitamin?” / “You want mango?” / “You don’t like your food? You want aloo (Hindi for potato) instead?”
Furby: “Arf! Arf!” (Dog for yes!)

My dad and Furby had their own bond too. My brother and I often traveled to India with my mom for school holidays and dad usually stayed back due to work. So that’s when Furby realised he could take advantage — extra ‘ghoomi’ and unsanctioned snacks — because dad had a huge soft spot for him. We returned from the trips to be greeted by a more spoiled and demanding Furby.

My dadaji (Hindi for paternal grandfather) also lived with us and every evening whenever he would be eating his fruits, sure enough Furby would show up if there was a fruit on that plate he liked and he would not leave until he got it. The exchanges in dadaji’s Hindi and Furby’s demanding low growls were hilarious.

I’m convinced Furby saw himself as a big boss dog and not the cute little furry mop he really was; he had a large energetic spirit that no one could tame. Everyone who met him, loved him. And to those who claimed “I’m not a dog person”, felt differently after hanging out with him. Sadly, Furby passed away in February 2014. He was almost 15 years old and he filled those years and our lives with so much love, happiness and laughter.