For over a decade, Biscuit was just there. Through PSLE stress and O level nights, through the awkward years and the growing up years. He was the first thing I saw every morning and the last thing I said goodnight to. When I came home from a bad day at poly or a rough shift at my part-time job, he was always at the door. Always.
Then one morning in 2022, when I was 23, he wasn't.
Biscuit passed from cancer.
It happened faster than anyone expected. One month he was bounding around Tampines Park like nothing in the world could slow him down. The next month he was gone. I don't think I was prepared for how much space he left behind. The flat felt different. Coming home felt different. Even looking at my phone, full of ten years of photos of him felt different. All that love, and nowhere for it to go.
A few weeks after losing him, I started looking for a way to keep him close. I searched online for something meaningful. Something I could wear. Something that wasn't just a photo on my phone screen but an actual physical piece I could hold and look at every day. I found some options overseas. The quality was inconsistent. Shipping took weeks. Nobody could tell me honestly what it would look like until it arrived. For something this personal, that felt completely wrong.
So I decided to make it myself.
I spent months learning the process, testing different engraving methods, trying different metals, obsessing over the details until the portrait actually looked like Biscuit and not just a generic dog outline. I made mistakes. I started over. I made more mistakes.