For years, Taiwanese artist Liang Renchuan has wandered the beaches near his home searching for pieces of driftwood to transform into art.
And every single time, padding happily beside him, was his loyal dog, Hachiko.
Renchuan first met Hachiko 14 years ago, on the day of his father’s funeral. The tiny stray wandered into the funeral parlor and never left his side.
“He became a part of my family,” Renchuan told The Dodo.
From that day forward, they were inseparable. Whenever storms washed new driftwood ashore, Renchuan and Hachiko would head to the beach together.
Renchuan would gather the pieces; Hachiko would romp, explore and play, thrilled to be out in the sand and wind.
Back in the studio, Hachiko remained the artist’s quiet shadow — watching him work, posing next to finished pieces and even nudging bits of wood around as if trying his own paw at creativity.
His presence was constant, comforting and deeply cherished.
In that space full of collected driftwood, Hachiko was even known to occasionally craft wooden “art” of his own.
But earlier this month, Hachiko’s long, joyful life came to a sudden end. He passed away in the very studio he’d shared with his dad — the space where so many memories lived.
His spirit, however, wouldn't so quickly fade.
Renchuan’s heart shattered, but he had already begun preparing for the day he dreaded.
Knowing Hachiko was aging, he had started building a life-size sculpture of his beloved companion using pieces of driftwood the two had collected together.
“I wanted to leave a memento after he was gone,” he said.
After Hachiko’s passing, Renchuan poured himself into finishing the memorial. He painted the sculpture in Hachiko’s colors and placed the dog’s real collar gently around its wooden neck.
“I want to tell him, ‘Go and have fun. My dad will be with you in heaven,’” Renchuan said.
The finished statue is both breathtaking and heartbreaking — a tribute built from the very material that connected them. In sharing his memorial, Renchuan wrote a message that captures the depth of his grief:
“We used to go to the beach together to get driftwood. Now I can only use driftwood to get you back again.”
Hachiko’s spirit will live on in every piece of art, in every future walk along the shore and in the quiet corners of the studio where he once rested.
Even for those who aren’t artists, Renchuan hopes others will remember that there is no right or wrong way to honor a pet’s memory.
As psychologist Dr. Stephanie A. Sarkis of Psychology Today notes, “Some people will tell you that you should ‘get rid of' all your pet's belongings. Some will tell you to keep a photo of your pet in your home. Here's the thing — you do whatever you feel gives you comfort … Whatever feels best to you is what works.”
Through driftwood and devotion, Renchuan found his way — and gave his best friend a legacy as enduring as their bond.
