If dogs could talk

I'm back from hiatus. Seems like my entries has been about dogs lately. Dunno if it's got anything to do with the Year of the Dog?!

Now, another incident happened to me again yesterday. It all started with ...

"Alrighty... alrighty... come on... come on... will he ever pull over now?" Victory panted excitedly in James' van. "I see her now! Sammi, my buddy, how are ya?!" Victory pranced aimlessly round the garden.

Oh crap... Sammi sighed under her breath. Not him again, the stupid notorious punky goldie that creates havoc whenever he comes to my house.

"Oh hello kid!" Sammi said tentatively, putting on a fake smile.

"Let's play catch!" yelled Victory, still prancing aimlessly in circles. Sammi entertained him a while.

"Hey, I've got this itch that doesn't go away. Here, my neck." Sammi's trying her luck.

"Oh no problem buddy! Here, I'll lick it. Hmmm, it tastes good! Hey, buddy, I think your backside is pretty sore too, you want me to do the lickin' too?"

"Yeah, if you don't mind. Thanks kid!" How stupid can he get? Thought Sammi. She must have done good deeds in her life to get this kind of special service from a yound punk after ten over years of waiting.

"Hey kid, here comes your owner..."

"Hey hey hey, no no no, not the leash again.... I don't like the leash... I'm born to run freely... there's so much space here in the garden left unexplored...." Victory barked in disgruntlement. "Hey James! Where're you goin'? Now come back, come back, don't leave me tied up here!" He pleaded with his best puppy-dog-eyed version. That didn't work. James and Jessie were gone, and he's stuck here with the stupid leash!

"No use pleading, they're gone." Sammi smirked, watching him from one corner. "I'm just gonna go inside and cuddle in my favourite carpet while you enjoy the enchanting scenery of the garden. Ta-ta!"

"Yooohoo Sammi buddy, come outside and play with me." This is unfair. Where are the people? Why am I here? Whinned Victory. What to do? What to do? Victory saw the blue drinking basin with interest. Yay! Water! He grinned, walking to take huge mouthful of water out from basin. *Slurp Slurp Slurp* Now, what to do next? Ha! I'll check out the bottom of the car, and maybe I'll get to sniff some puny insects if I'm lucky! Victory continued his adventure.

What a loser! Sammi watched Victory with one eye opened, and then fall back to her siesta.

"Hey Sammi buddy! I think I drank too much water.... I need to go... Sammi buddy... wake up..." Victory started to fidget. *bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark*

Oh look, there's Irene answering my prayers! Victory panted excitedly. (Incidentally, Victory's only capable of 2 expressions - panting excitedly or wincing with puppy-dog eyes). I'm in heaven... I'm in heaven... Victory singing in tune. With a piss piss here, and a piss piss there, here a piss there a piss, everywhere piss piss... Victory thought to himself, Irene's pretty cool. I like her. But I wondered why she's always complaining to Jessie. I'm no mischief, I'm so adorable.The last time she took me out to poo-poo, I behave so intelligently, I did covered up my poo-poo with dirt. But I heard her screaming at the top of her voice, maybe she saw a ghost or somethin'. Not sure. She's cool, but she's weird though...

*click* The auto-gate swang opened. "Ooh, here's my reward for non-stop barking. They are letting me out finally!" Victory sprinted out of the auto-gate ecstatically. *gasp* "Ah, I'm choked! Let go of my leash, Irene!"

Victory continued his fight for freedom. Sammi's long gone far away into the neighbourhood already. "Wait up buddy!" Come on, let me go. I'm choking... I know what to do, I'll turn my head quickly and maybe I'll get the collar off me. Victory tried his stun, but Irene was too alert that she loosen the leash. Victory tried a couple of times more, but to no avail. Okay, one last attempt. I'm just gonna use all of my strength to pull her along. She seems to enjoy it anyway...

*

Sammi came back and Victory followed suit. Sammi warned, "If I were you, I'll be good for a while."

"What are you talking about?" Victory asked quizzically, still feeling a sense of triumph. Sammi didn't reply. She just shrugged and stroll back to her favourite indoor carpet.

*

Later that night, Victory heard Irene complained again during dinner that her hand bleeded from some incident. Victory swear he heard the words stupid, and something like officially don't like you. Maybe she broke up with her boyfriend or something and they fighted with each other, so she hurt herself and now calls her boyfriend stupid and officially declared that she doens't like him. Well, that's her story anyway. In the meantime, I'm happy just being myself, being a dog. Victory smiled at himself in contentment.

Guilt

I have been feeling guilty for days. 4 days ago, as I was driving back home in the evening, I was on a pretty high speed considering that it's my neighbourhood lane, I bumped into a middle-sized dog that ran across the lane. By bumping, I meant that I had a contact with the dog's backside with my car. It was dim, suddenly the dog dashed out from nowhere and came into my vision. I swerved my car to the left, it turned to the other direction quickly but apparently not quick enough, and so I heard a small thud and did feel the small impact from within the driver's seat. I slowed down my car to take a look at my side and rear view mirror, but couldn't see where the dog escaped to. I really hope that the dog didn't suffer any injuries. Last evening, I rode my bicycle around the neighbourhood to see if the dog belongs to any of my neighbour. I couldn't find it... -_-

Ya know, the scariest thing about this incident was that, at that point as I swerved my car and I hit the dog, I actually had little sense of compunction at all. The thought of hitting the dog is no big deal actually flashed across my mind. I was almost cold-blooded. That was the split second that I felt I was a terrible person.

Dog-gone funny

It is by nature that after a dog has done his poo-poo, he would cover it up with some dirt by a hind-leg kicking action.

Yesterday, I led Victory to do his thing in our garden. Faithfully, he did his kicking action with his hind-leg. You wouldn't believe what happened...

.

.

.

.

.

Instead of kicking the soil of the garden, he KICKED HIS POO-POO AT ME! You should see my rage... arghhhhhh!!!!!!
-_-

Bet your bottom dollar that tomorrow, there'll be sun

Ah... the sun has been playing hide-and-seek since last December. It has decided to stop hiding today. I can finally see the white fluffy clouds hanging in the sunny skies.

Is this the final goodbye to the cool watery days that I actually adored so much? Is this the first signal that I could go back to my golfing routine? Tsk.. tsk.. tsk.. How fickle minded am I? Will I be asking too much to crave for rainy days whenever I want to snuggle under my quilt with my favourite book in hand, and crave for a good bright weather whenever I want to play golf?

PS: It's Friday the Thirteen today

Sammi

No one can do a better weather forecast (that is for rain only) better than my dog, Sammi.

I was greeted with an amicable sweep from her tail against my bed at 7:30am. Actually, I was awaken by the clicking of her pawnails against the tiled floor of my bedroom, followed by her endearing stench and then the sweeping of her tail.

Sammi is an obedient dog - not specifically trained yet possesses capabilities of displaying discretion and responsibilities. She would spring gracefully out of our house to do her poo-poo whenever there's chance. She would wander into the neighbourhood, not far though, and would spring back into our house after she's done her round. I used the word 'spring' because when she ran, she doesn't exactly gallop like those dogs you see in the Pedigree commercials. She doesn't stroll either. She has this little springy skippidy-gallopy action that she adopts. Several years ago, Sammi would prance when she sees us. But now, she's more phlegmatic.

Sammi knows a thing or two when she is in the house (as in really inside the house, not just the garden). She will quietly take her spot. Her favourites are the one under the trophy, the one behind the OSIM chair, and the rug facing our porch. She will always curve into a ball and close her eyes, merely enjoying the presence of our family members. Occasionally, she will open her eyes to see who is walking by, or she will erect her right ear (only her right ear is good, cos' her left her has been injured due to pus) to the slightest sound that come from the outside of the house.

The only pet peeve that I have from Sammi is demonstrated by her accute sense for rain, or rather the anticipation for rain. She would frantically search for anyone in the house, and seek comfort in any way. She would be shaky, and you could almost feel the unspoken desperation from her watery eyes which she would, if she could, tell you her story of how she was torment by the storm or in the rain long before we fetch her back from the SPCA.

I can say that we've all grown accustomed to Sammi's behaviours and her body odour. She has gained her fair share of TLCs (tender-loving-care) in the recent months, especially when she her greatest competitor Victory came into picture last year. Despite the constant harrassment and even humiliation from her only competitor and friend in her own kind, Sammi has somehow stand in victory (no puns intended). She is afterall the master (or mistress) of our house. The queen who knows her neighbourhood. The old ginger. The diva who is singing "I will survive... I will survive...". Sammi, how cool can you get! =)

Random Thoughts

It rained the whole day today, as early as 7am this morning. The rain seemed to have variations - the drizzle, the pour, the lightning-strike storm, the pitter-patter. I watched the kois in my pond. I noticed all the fishes were somehow as if gasping for air, as they all swam towards the edge of the pond, all lined up perpendicularly to the rocks at the edge in an orderly fashion. Sammi, my alsatian dog, had been curling up into a tiny ball all day long. She seemed old. She had white fur at the bottom of her saggy cheeks, and she'd also spotted a "turkey-neck".

It was only 5:30pm in the evening when I picked up a novel at random for some cosy reading, but the skies looked like it was late at night. It must have been like 24 degrees celsius, I love this weather - natural air-conditioner. Of course, it's great with this weather when I'm at home. Well, I wouldn't mind if I'm outside too, so long I'm under the roof, maybe sipping a cup of mocha and reading my favourite book. I've always wondered since I was a teenager that why Singapore is always so hot and humid. We don't have the different seasons, we only had 2 seasons - summer and shopping season. I had always silently wished that if only Singapore will drift 2 degrees down the equator, it would have made a great difference in the weather temperature. I guess maybe my wish has come through. It's very unlikely to have this cool raining weather in January. Well, I'm crossing my fingers.

I spent my morning grading my Day 4 class that was held on Friday. That was the class that I have to drop facilitating with the new arrangement that I got from my module chair. I had some good feedback from my students. Two of them expressed gratitude and disappointment that I won't be facilitating their class anymore. I've always like that class. Some of them which I personally adored, exchanged views and ideas. I'm used to speaking to 18-19 year-olds now that I'm into it for almost a year. You will be surprised that some had very matured thoughts, not that 18-19 year-olds shouldn't. But with all these distractions from branded goods, media and entertainment, peer pressure, technology, etc... most are merely acting their age and some even still bare with childish mentality and behaviours. I guess after reading these feedback of my leaving of their class, I get my fair portion of satisfaction in what I'm doing.

Little did it occured to me that I find cooking very theraputic. Working from home when not facilitating in school, I find cooking a good energy rejunvenating therapy. I get to experiment my creativity in the culinary arena. And often, my reward comes when I see happy faces from my "fans" as they gorge into my dishes. Not losing my modesty, it has got nothing to do with their hunger.

I count my blessings that I'm healthy and I'm able to contribute and give, and do what I like. I'm grateful that I have a small talent for teaching, and a craving for learning. I love to read, I love to write too. It will be my goal to be able to publish a book of my own in this lifetime. It may be a collection of short articles, letters, or maybe fictional stories. I'm not sure. What I'm sure is that writing gives me a sense of comfort, security, platform to express my emotions, opinions and thoughts.

Voice control

"Come on... Up... Right... Stay up... Come on... Alright sit... Come on... Sit... Sit... Yeah... Hold on... Sit... "

What the -?

You've heard it... It's like we have a voice remote control over our golf balls to where they land. It's just a form of expression that sometimes we need to let it out. Sometimes, the remote control seems to work! But many a times, it's just another way of us releasing our emotions while we are playing golf.

Potter-overdosed

I think I'm potter-overdosed. I'm doing up a proposal for ministry of finance, guess what I typed in my word document?

ministry of magic

-_-

Plan

New year, new semester, new team. I've reallocated my class teams, they are happy with the arrangement. I've asked them to share their plans for this new semester and new year.

Some wrote me long paragraphs of plans, others just completed a one-sentence RJ.

On the whole, I find that those who actually planned to do something, didn't know how to execute it out. And those who didn't plan anything, wondered why there's a need to plan.

Different students, different attitudes, different views, different plans. To a seventeen-year-oldish, plans may seem to be a big word for them. But the way I look at it, even when you're twenty-seven, thirty-seven, forty-seven, etc... plans are important as it paths your way of life. Without plans, what is the purpose of your life?

Yes, live life to the fullest cos' there's only one lifetime. But still, you need to plan in order to live life to the fullest.

Agree?

2006

Little did it occured to me, that I'm a sucker for schedules.

I find myself more productive when working by the schedule. I know it sounds dull, but I'm a pretty extreme person. I can be very lazy and non-discipline at times, and I can be very self-discipline and a workaholic at other times.

Luckily for me, being self-employed, I'm a self-starter.

Which means that I'm my own boss when it comes to working with deadlines and working by the schedule. I breath myself down my own neck!

I also realised that I'm motivated by rewards and also fear of loss. I think 50-50%. Rewards is of course $$$, and then personal satisfaction. Fear of loss is of course the major face-saving issue.