Yesterday, I saw a comment below Sanmu’s Memoir, vol.000.

A reader said one of her dogs had died a few days earlier, and she missed it so much.

Reading it left me with a heavy heart. I did not know how to comfort her.

I do not know the dog’s name or how many years it spent with its owner. Anyone who has lived with a cat or dog probably dreads that day. The food bowl, the mat, and its favorite resting place are still there, but a member of the family is gone.

While they are with us, what we remember is often nothing momentous. Perhaps just the way they lift their head when they hear the door open, or sleep in the same spot every day.

Once they are gone, it is precisely those little things that come back to us.

Why I keep painting Sanmu

Sanmu has lived with me for 14 years.

Over those years, I have taken thousands, perhaps tens of thousands, of photographs of him, and gradually painted several hundred watercolors. Recently, I also began organizing Sanmu’s Memoir, hoping to turn it into a story of fifty or sixty thousand Chinese characters.

Ultimately, I am afraid I will forget.

Around 2015, a hard drive containing Sanmu’s photos failed. The photographs from that period disappeared all at once. Later, I could only try to find them again on Weibo, WeChat Moments, and cloud drives.

Only after losing those photos did I realize that keeping something on a hard drive does not mean it is safely preserved. Memory is much the same. Many things that seem unforgettable at the time become only a vague outline a few years later.

When writing, I look through old photographs again and think about what he was doing. When painting, I spend a little longer studying his eyes, ears, and posture.

Each time I organize them this way, I recover a little of what I nearly forgot.

I want to try painting a picture for them

When I saw that comment, I thought: perhaps I could paint that dog too.

Then I thought that this might be something more than one reader needs. I could begin by trying simple watercolor memorial portraits for cats and dogs who have passed away.

The memorial painting plan at the time was to open 100 places in the first stage and paint one or two each day, gradually working through the requests in the order their materials arrived. Those further back in the queue might need to wait two or three months.

The digital memorial image would be free. The trial price for a framed physical version was 150 yuan, including a basic frame and postage to ordinary domestic destinations in China. The exact size and shipping to special regions would be explained before confirmation.

If you would like to take part, prepare one to three clear photos, tell me the pet’s name, and write a short account of a story you shared.

Please also say whether you are willing for me to share the painting and its story after removing personal information. It is completely fine to decline public sharing. This will not affect your place in the queue.

There are no conditions requiring reposts or likes. Just provide clear photographs and a clear account of its story.

The digital version is free in the early stage. I want to keep the threshold low, and I need practice myself. I already paint every day. Rather than choosing a random image online, I would prefer to paint a cat or dog someone truly misses.

If the queue really becomes more than I can manage, I will adjust the number of places and the arrangement. For now, I will start.

What can one painting do?

Of course, painting a watercolor will not solve anything. The pet is gone, and another picture will not change that. Besides, what I paint may not look more like it than the original photograph does.

But while painting, I will enlarge the photograph and look at the shape of its ears, the direction of its eyes, and the variations in its fur color.

At the very least, I will look at it carefully once more, then put what I see onto paper.

Sanmu is still beside me. I want to keep recording him while he is here.

If you also had a cat or dog who has passed away, and still have photographs, you can send me the photos and its story. I will paint a picture for you.

If, in the end, there is one more thing left to remember it by, the effort will not have been wasted.