Skinny Dog 瘦狗

When I returned to my ‘real’ family I saw that I was the runt.  It was a dog eat dog world and I the scrawny one.  狗瘦主人羞,my mother would say; angry to be the owner of a skinny dog.  The disgrace!

I couldn’t eat though the table was laden with food. Too much after being hungry for so long. Amongst the chaos of the many chopsticked hands, I ate the wing tip of a chicken and a tablespoon of rice.  My mother was furious.

A woman came to the house every second day and started to inject me with nutrients.  Thick glass cylinders of coloured liquids.  I don’t remember hurting.  I didn’t feel a thing.

About Mary Tang

An urban orchardist everyday, a volunteer regularly, a poet sometimes and a blogger since March 2015. I travel when I can. Food is a constant.
This entry was posted in Memoir and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

3 Responses to Skinny Dog 瘦狗

  1. And too upset to eat, I would think

    Liked by 1 person

  2. mattb325 says:

    It’s fascinating to think that being skinny back then was a cause for shame….

    Liked by 1 person

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