Five Years of Fredric

Today is a major milestone for me and my beloved pooch, as it marks the fifth anniversary of that fateful day I brought Fredric home to Happy Valley, where we have lived happily ever since. I don't think I have to tell you, but adopting a dog was easily among the greatest decisions of my adult life. 

Fredric has injected so much joy into every minute we spend together, and I really love the darn mutt more than any amount of words could ever express. And so I wanted to do a little something special to mark this date. 

This morning, after a late wake-up thanks to a bit of bar hopping last night, we headed over to the Race Course Fire Memorial near Hong Kong Stadium, where he loves to play. But the real fun began an hour or so later, when we hopped in a taxi to Stanley.

You probably remember that I was down in Stanley for the Tuen Ng Festival dragon boat races, which fell on a Saturday in 2015, when I first met the dog who would become Fredric at the local SPCA. His name was Hank at the time, but our initial moments playing on the floor of the shelter all but convinced me he was the Fredric I'd been searching for. (I mean, seriously... look how cute—and tiny—he was!)

Since the SPCA makes you "sleep on it" for a night before committing, in order to prevent impulse adoptions, I had to return the next day—like this year, also a Sunday, also, coincidentally, Father's Day—to confirm my decision. 

And, so, it's fallen into a pretty standard tradition that when the timing is right, I try to bring Fredric back to his ancestral family roots whenever this anniversary rolls around. And even though it's now a surf shop, I ensure we pay at least a quick visit to the former SPCA where Fredric and I first met. 

We had lunch today at the Boathouse, a charming restaurant set in an old colonial house situated on the waterfront promenade, its pastel yellow façade perhaps the only attractive architecture along the whole stretch, until you finally come to historic Murray House. 

I feasted on mussels, clams and shrimp in a delectable garlic and white wine cream sauce, all washed down with a crisp draught beer, while the heavenly sea view danced off in the distance. The waiters were friendly, and the weather couldn't have been better! In short, a perfect seaside lunch. 

There was even a pretty lackluster solar eclipse that found its way into the afternoon, which apparently saw the moon taking over eighty percent of the sun just after four o'clock. I was excited when I learned it was about to occur, and gamely looked up to the sky when the event was meant to be nearing its apex.

Alas, to be honest, I couldn't really make out too much of a difference from how the sun normally seems on a glorious midsummer afternoon. But it was still cool knowing this was a pretty rare occurrence.

Fredric and I headed for the sands afterwards, where we made friends with chatty Ash and his dog Abby, plus a few other beach-goers who came across our paths. Fredric isn't a big fan of swimming—in fact, he won't really even get too close to the surf—but, boy, does he love the sand!

He spent a silly amount of time this afternoon digging and rolling and lying in it. And I loved seeing him so obviously overjoyed.

Needless to say, after a spot of market shopping, I squeezed in one final beer at the Pickled Pelican, the pub just next door to the Boathouse—blessed with an equally ethereal view of the ocean, Murray House and Blake Pier—as night descended upon the scene. 

Back home, I ordered a pizza and switched on my DVD of Design for Living, the classic 1933 Ernst Lubitsch comedy starring my pooch's dapper namesake, Fredric March, in addition to Gary Cooper and a scintillating Miriam Hopkins.

It's the movie we watched that very first night together back in 2015, and I even pulled out the old empty bottle of dessert wine I had sipped as we enjoyed our first bonding session on the couch. (Of course I saved it. Are you really surprised?)

What a wild run it's been over these past five years, and I look forward to many more memories with my dear little mongrel. Cheers to half a decade, buddy! Thanks for being such a wonderful, loving bundle of boundless energy.