Harper was, and always will be, the face of HOPE — in more
ways than we ever imagined.
When HOPE began in July 2011, we could never have known that
two years later, a tiny six-week-old puppy rescued from a construction site on
Jurong Island would come to define so much of who we are. But Harper did. To
many people, HOPE became inseparable from her — that brave little dog in a
wheelchair who moved through life with such spirit that no one who met her
could ever forget her.
Now that she is gone, there is a strange emptiness in the
spaces she once filled so naturally. Harper has left behind a huge void in our
hearts, and a legacy so big that I am not sure any other dog could ever fill
her shoes.
Harper was extremely kind, patient, resilient and sweet —
and she even had a wonderful sense of humour. More than anything, she had the
most incredible spirit. No matter what she was going through, whether it was
bad skin, open sores, discomfort or the daily challenges of her condition, she
never allowed any of it to dim her joy. Harper always looked at the brighter
side of life. She was always ready for the next walk, the next adventure, the
next chance to be with the people and dogs she loved.
Each week during our regular walks, she would patiently let
new volunteers learn to carry her, sometimes trying many times and still
couldn’t lift her and she just patiently waited . . .even I may have snapped.
Harper was also a very good and caring leader – she guided the new rescues,
made them feel happy and part of the group and assured them that life would be
better from now on. During our walks, she would always walk in front, often
turning back to check that everyone was coming along and she would wait till
they caught up, before walking again. Her leadership skills came so
naturally.
Harper was highly intelligent – she knew many verbal
commands such as turn left, turn right, wait for me, walk slower, walk faster
etc and we often joked that she could sit for her PhD soon.
Harper never saw herself as a special needs dog. She did
everything any other dog would do, and her wheelchair never once stopped her
from trying. On our walks, people would often stop and stare. Some looked at
her with pity, while others broke into smiles, clapped, and cheered her on as
she rolled proudly past them. I used to joke that they should feel sorry for me
instead, because I was the one carrying 17 kilos of Harper many times a day —
but of course, it was only a joke. Caring for Harper was never a chore. It was
something I loved, something I was proud to do, because she was my pride and
joy.
When news of Harper’s passing was shared, tributes began
pouring in from the public, volunteers and people who had quietly followed her
journey over the years. It was only then that I truly realized how far her
little life had reached — how many people she had inspired, how many hearts she
had opened, and how many lives she had changed. Because of Harper, many pet
parents learned to pay closer attention, to care more deeply, and to do better
for their own dogs. For one small dog to leave behind that kind of legacy is
something truly extraordinary.
At her send-off, members of the public came to bid Harper
farewell, many of whom had followed her story for years. Volunteers who had
walked her when she was still a young dog came too, a quiet testament to the
place she held in so many hearts. Harper lived an extraordinary life. In her 13
years, she achieved and gave far more than anyone could have imagined, and
towards the end, her tired body had simply given all it could. The vets never
expected her to live beyond six or seven, so every year after that was a gift —
and proof of her incredible resilience, strength and joyful spirit.
It is the end of an era. Harper has taken her final walk, but her spirit will continue to lead HOPE in every rescue, every act of kindness, and every life we try to change. Thank you for loving her, cheering her on, and allowing her to become not just the face of HOPE, but the heart of it. 💜
2013 ~ 11 September 2026
