“Now I can only use driftwood to get you back again.”
For years, Taiwanese artist Liang Renchuan has walked the beaches near his home in search of driftwood — the raw material behind his remarkable works of art. And on every one of those creative journeys, his loyal companion, Hachiko, was by his side.
Renchuan first met Hachiko 14 years ago, under deeply emotional circumstances. The small stray wandered into his father’s funeral, as if guided there by fate.
“He appeared at the funeral parlor that night,” Renchuan told The Dodo. “From that moment, he became part of my family.”
From then on, the two were inseparable. Each time storms scattered driftwood along the shore, Renchuan and Hachiko would head out together to collect it. While Renchuan gathered the pieces he’d later transform into sculptures, Hachiko played happily in the sand — full of life and curiosity.
“He was so lively at the beach,” Renchuan recalled. “I did most of the heavy lifting. Hachiko mostly just wanted to have fun.”
Back at the artist’s studio, Hachiko remained a constant presence — quietly observing his dad at work or posing beside finished pieces. Surrounded by wood and creativity, he sometimes even seemed to make “art” of his own, nudging and arranging bits of driftwood with his paws.
But earlier this month, after 14 wonderful years together, Hachiko passed away unexpectedly in the very studio where he had spent much of his life. The loss left Renchuan heartbroken.
Knowing his beloved dog’s time was growing short, Renchuan had begun creating something special — a life-sized driftwood sculpture of Hachiko, built from the same pieces they once gathered together on the beach.
“I wanted to have something to remember him by,” Renchuan said.
After Hachiko’s passing, the artist lovingly finished the sculpture, painting it in his familiar colors and fastening Hachiko’s real collar around its neck.
“I want to tell him, ‘Go have fun. My father will be with you in heaven,’” Renchuan shared.
Now standing proudly in the studio, the driftwood statue captures Hachiko’s spirit — a tribute carved from the same material that once defined their adventures. As Renchuan wrote, “We used to go to the beach together to collect driftwood. Now I can only use driftwood to bring you back again.”
Though Hachiko may no longer walk beside him, Renchuan knows his loyal friend’s spirit will always be there — in the studio, in the waves, and in the art they created together.
As psychologist Dr. Stephanie A. Sarkis once wrote in Psychology Today: “There’s no wrong way to grieve a pet… Whatever brings you comfort is what works.”
For Renchuan, comfort came through art — transforming grief into something lasting, beautiful, and full of love.