Rebelsutra: Be enlightened.

You know what to do

2007-02-25T12:04:00.000+08:00

Whenever Rebel and I play "Fetch", and I end up holding his toy, I'll make him sit just so that he remembers that command.

Typically, I'd say, "You know what to do", and Rebel would sit without fail. In the past, I used to think that he was reall smart to understand sentences, and not short, straightforward commands. Then I realise something of late.

He doesn't understand the meaning of "Sit" anymore. To him, "You know what to do" means "Sit". Oh boy.

No wonder he doesn't respond to "Stay". He responds to "Don't cross the road without me!".

My boy is turning into Rudie, my friend's maltese who thinks he's human and hence, he refuses to respond to commands; you have to talk to him like a human being.

Breakfast attacks

2007-02-13T11:48:00.000+08:00

For 2 consecutive days, Rebel has been helping himself to my breakfast, which alternates between microwaved siew mai and ha kao (pork dumplings and prawn shrimps, for any non-Chinese readers) or egg-and-ham sandwich. Today, it was my siew mai and ha kao.

He got whacked of course. Firstly, he's already being fed super-premium organic venison meat (dear's meat by the way) that's costing me a bomb, and secondly, I'm not a very friendly morning person. I'm worse without food.

If he tries to eat my breakfast again tomorrow, Imma switch his diet to avocado instead.

Let him give you some love

2007-02-03T11:30:00.000+08:00

Rebel's dickhead is heart shaped. Imagine that.

This

Sleeping on the job

2007-01-30T12:06:00.000+08:00

Pardon the infrequent update of late. I'm settling into a new job, and just launched my own blog (finally). Warning: Parental Guidance required.

Anyway, Rebel has this habit of licking his own dick every morning, as though he is polishing his trophy... Just yesterday, he fell asleep on the job.

I wish I took a picture, but I was rushing for work. Still, such a Kodak moment.

Like Dog Like Owner

2007-01-18T18:20:00.000+08:00

Rebel and I, taking a dog nap this afternoon. We look frighteningly alike, do we not?

Perfectly fine

2007-01-15T02:05:00.000+08:00

The endoscopy indicated zero signs of abnormality. Apparently, Rebel's perfectly fine and in worst case scenarios, he is probably suffering from a food allergy. Thank god for that. He's on Addiction's organic food right now (Possum and Vegetables, I adamantly refused to subject him to some weird "Wild Kangeroo" flavour offered by Addiction). Let's hope that would stop his puking.

My poor son ran towards his bed the moment we got home. I had to place him in the hospital for the entire day and I guess he didn't like his 4x4 cubic square ward. He buried his head underneath his smelly pillow for a bit, before making his way to his favourite carpet for some body roll. Finally, he went to his newspapers and peed for a good minute or so. Poor baby. I guess he probably didn't want to pee where he slept and hence, he didn't pee in the hospital.

Here's he, falling asleep in my arms having been sedated earlier in the afternoon.

3 days of rebellion

2007-01-06T20:53:00.000+08:00

I cannot say for sure, what has gotten into Rebel, but he sure lived up to his name. Please allow me, this poor owner of a gangsta-wannabe Chihuahua, to share with you what I went thru in the last three days.

Day One: 4 January, Thursday, 2007
As per habit, I left my black pointed leather JWEST heels at the corridor upon reaching home from work in the evening. When I left home again for a party later that night, I discovered that Rebel has meticulously removed the sole of right side of my JWEST heels, without damaging the calf leather exterior. God knows how he did that. He must’ve developed fingers overnight or something. Since I was rushing out for my party, I settled for a brief scolding and left.

When I returned in the morning at 3am, barely drunk but extremely tired, I found out that Rebel did the same to the right side of my JWEST heels. I don’t appreciate his democratic behaviour. He got a good whip on the ass.

Day Two: 5 January, Friday, 2007
I woke up to a collection of poo Rebel placed at various touch points of my apartment. I wondered if they were strategically placed. The first pile was located at the entrance of the bathroom, the second at the entrance of the kitchen, and finally, the last pile at main entrance of my apartment. Needless to say, I whipped his ass again and went to work.

He seemed apologetic enough in the evening when I returned from work. He was extremely well-behaved, even waiting for my permission before jumping on the sofa with me. On a normal day, he’d jump on the sofa before I even lay my butt down. So yes, it was nice to see Rebel behaving well for once… Until “the other man”, my dad, decided to piss him off.

My dad was doing one of his usual I-am-the-man-who-knows-it-all stint in between commercials of a Hong Kong serial drama show when Rebel deliberately let out a Yeah, right grunt. My dad’s ego was bruised by Rebel’s interruption and he ceased the conversation immediately and stared at Rebel. Rebel stared back. Staring continued for a couple of minutes. My dad rolled up his Punter’s Way magazine. Rebel’s ears pointed forward and his growl was getting louder and louder.

My dad’s picking a fight with my dog. You have got to be kidding me? I thought.

Before I could ponder any longer how absurd this scenario was, my dad stood up grinning, went towards Rebel with his rolled-up magazine. Obviously, my dad was just fooling around but Rebel didn’t know that. He leaped off the sofa and attempted to bite my dad. My dad wasn’t too pleased, and complained immediately that Rebel was disrespectful.

Respect from a dog? Huh? I was absolutely bewildered.

My mum then stepped in and chided my dad. “It’s YOUR fault! You wanted to hit him, of course he’d bite back. What do you expect him to do? Remain still and let you hit him? Stop it right now!”

Now my mum’s taking sides. Rebel’s side. Ok, the commotion we’re creating is even more dramatic than the Hong Kong serial drama show.

My dad grumbled under his breath and went to the bedroom. Rebel realized he won, and proceeded to give my face a little lick. No, really, I kid you not.

Day Three: 6 January, Saturday, 2007
Rebel and I had an appointment with the super-hot-and-oh-so-sexy vet, Dr Lau, from Animal Recover Centre. It’s about Rebel’s puking (no it has not gone away) and his newly formed hunchback. How do you tell a dog not to hunch, by the way?

Anyway, when we were walking back to the taxi stand, Rebel decided to leap off my arms and run off. I was furious alright. Try chasing your dog around the entire shopping mall with passerbys laughing and see if you would get mad too. I know Rebel hates the vet visits but no choice what?!

Pray for him would you? He is due for an endoscopy next Friday. He will be sedated, upon which a microscopic camera will be shoved down his throat. We need to see if his dontknowwhat tube to his small intestine from his stomach is indeed too small, and hence, causing him to repel his food. If so, a surgery is required.

God, I hope it goes well. My baby boy’s gonna be sedated for the first time. ☹

Happy New Year!

2007-01-03T01:35:00.000+08:00

Says our Mafia Dogfather, Rebel Law.

I love this last picture. So Al Pacino.

No, I don't like you.

2006-12-19T22:26:00.000+08:00

Let's take this outside

2006-12-10T23:02:00.000+08:00

I promise you Rebel has somehow inherit my personality. A fellow chihuahua tried to pick a fight with him earlier this afternoon at the dog farm, and he tugged on the chihuahua's ugly dog-shirt with his mouth and growled.

I bet, if we understood the Dog's language, it would probably translate to "Do you want a piece of me?".

Reminds me of those adolescent days when I used to pull a person by his/ her shirt (man or woman alike, amazingly) and taunt, "Not happy? Fight lah."

Ya ya ya. We were all young once.

And like his owner, Rebel never loses in a fight. Heh heh heh.

Oblivious Rascal

2006-12-03T17:12:00.000+08:00

Rebel's a lucky kid whose owner happens hates the leash as much as he does. He runs about with her free-spiritedly, unlike most considerate owners and their leashed-up dogs. And that bastard, he sure knows how to use his luxury to his advantage.

About 20 minutes ago, Rebel met Brownie, this 3-year-old Shih Tzu during his walk. I promise you it was deliberate; Rebel taunted and teased, and provoked Brownie into a dog chase with him. It could've been ohsocute, except that Rebel stupidly got Brownie running around my legs... the leash naturally tighten my flesh, causing me instant rope burns. And yes, I did the whole cartoon-like fall like a horse being caught by a Western County sheriff.

And of course, Rebel was oblivious to the pain he caused me. He had fun showing Brownie who's boss and that's all that bloody matters to him.

Ouch.

Go fetch!

2006-11-26T18:46:00.000+08:00

You know you have neglected your dog for too long when he starts playing Fetch with himself. In the past month of absolute craziness at work, Rebel wittedly taught himself how to play Fetch. He would hold his little red ball in his mouth, throw it a few feet away by means of swinging his head, and then run after it.

Funny how it’s amusing and depressing at the same time.

I haven’t been able to blog of late due to my mammoth of work. It’s starting to get better, thank god. In my absence, Rebel has proven to be quite an independent chap. He has learnt to cope with being alone at home (no, I decided against having anyone babysit him while my maid was away) and well, the Fetch thing simply takes the cake.

I tried compensating the lack of anyone present during the day by walking him every morning. It was tough financially alright – because I ended up taking the cab to work each morning (S$20 per trip, mind you) but I suppose that’s the least I can do since I wasn’t able to see him til midnight each day. Yes, it was miserable for the both of us.

Rebel became friends with the residential cleaner, whose work takes place in the morning. Despite being Malay, he didn’t appear to be put off by Rebel for being a dog. Everyone, say hi to Man (pronounced “Mah-an”). I’m glad my work slowing down. I miss my life. I miss Rebel.

When the both of us have nothing better to do

2006-10-07T21:00:00.000+08:00

Sorry I'm such a lousy camera (wo)man.

Digging to the bottom of the matter

2006-10-07T16:10:00.000+08:00

For the first time ever, watch Rebel "LIVE" thanks to YouTube.com! Like to see more? Let me know.

Finding Peace

2006-10-05T21:18:00.000+08:00

I love this photograph I took earlier of Rebel taking a nap next to me this afternoon. Looking at him sleep like that makes me feel at ease.

It's hard not to smile with this one below.

So motherfucking cute.

Home Alone

2006-10-05T00:26:00.000+08:00

I've decided to leave Rebel to fend himself against loneliness at home, on the account that I have admittedly haven't given much effort in finding him a dogsitter. Apart from the half-dead arowana(or at least I think it's one) swimming in the fish tank, Rebel that poor bastard, had only his toys (hundreds if I may add) for company.

I pulled my lazy ass up this morning an hour earlier, just to walk Rebel for a bit. Funny how you tend to be nicer to a person (or a dog) when you know you're about to make him/ her upset. Then again, without that human tendency, I doubt I would get Daddy's Rolex Hee. Rebel was smart enough to pick up the sudden niceness. Perhaps he knew from last evening when my maid and didn't return, for he was moody as hell. Oh well.

On the whole, I thought Rebel did pretty well for his first day alone at home. Nevermind the fact that he rebelled against the obvious rules and went to my mum's room to poo (thing is, chihuahuas are too hygienic to shit where they sleep and thus my room was spared). Nevermind that he knew he would've pissed my mum so bad should he poo on her carpet. For the fact that it was his first day alone afterall, I will forgive him. Surprisingly, even my mum went easy on him. Tomorrow onwards, I doubt she will be as compassionate. Already, she left him on the top of our spinning washing machine this evening when I told her to keep an eye on him while I made my dinner. Nope, Rebel doesn't like feeling giddy.

Oh by the way, that's how Rebel looks when snoring with his paws up in the air and a semi-hard on. Life's unfair. It's cute if you're a dog, but if you're a man, its just plain disgusting.

Bedroom Antics

2006-09-30T16:30:00.000+08:00

As Rebel grows each day, I can't help but notice how he's increasingly befitting the image of a Protector. At times when I place him in bed with me, he would prefer to snuggle at my feet, facing the bedroom door, as opposed to snuggled in my arms under my feet. He works like a 7-11 bell, really. Each time someone attempts to open my bedroom door, he would growl.

Sweet, ain't it? I don't recall any of my ex-boyfriends even being that protective!

At times when I leave my bedroom door open whilst I work or blog (like now!), Rebel would place himself at the door, living up to the title of a door bitch quite appropriately.

And no... I have yet to find a dogsitter for him! Shite!

Dogsitter Still Wanted

2006-09-24T14:09:00.000+08:00

Urgh... I'm approaching October and there has been zero takers for Rebel. Zilch. I guess I overestimated Rebel's attractiveness. Damn. I figured, if I don't find anyone by the mid of next week, I will:

1. Place Rebel on a daily basis at my Aunt's place in Bedok. She has a blind maltese named Marl (her daughter named him after her favourite brand of cigarettes). I'll bring Rebel by next week and we'll see if they get along.

2. Ask the local breeder if he's willing to keep Rebel together with his pack of Chihuahuas. My only issue is, Rebel will naturally be caged up in a playpen like the rest, and I'm not sure if he's going to like it that much. But then again, at least he knows the local breeder.

Hmmm. Now if only I have Ginger's number. She stays in the block opposite mine!

Dogsitter Wanted

2006-09-17T11:45:00.000+08:00

My maid's going back to her hometown for the entire month of October, and there won't be anyone at home during the day to take care of this little rascal. I need someone who is able to babysit Rebel from 8am - 8pm on weekdays, and the occasional Saturdays. If you live in Pasir Ris, and is willing to help, let me know.

Obviously, the volunteer needs to be one who love dogs and doesn't mind Rebel's lethal farts, amplified snoring and infamous puking (that happens once every week or so).

And yes, Rebel's toilet trained.

Email me at patricia.law@tbwa.com.sg if interested. Thanks.

A special visitor

2006-09-10T15:19:00.000+08:00

The local breeder came by my home yesterday to collect the dog training VCD I've borrowed eons ago from him. We chatted for a bit before he asked me to bring Rebel down to him after I made the remark about how difficult it is to cut the latter's stupid nails. "Bring him down and I'll cut them for you..." he offered. Rebel's lucky to have lived with him for 7 months.

While it didn't surprise me at all, I was still glad nonetheless that Rebel remembered the local breeder. His tail wagged with joy and it felt as though he was saying "Hey I miss you!". I felt a hint of jealously in me when Rebel gave more attention to him than me, but otherwise, it was a comforting sight of loyalty.

Previously, I played hairstylist and snipped Rebel's super-long whiskers with a huge pair of scissors. Edward Scissorhand I was so not, and the local breeder was kind enough to correct my catastrophe. He gave Rebel a complete makeover! With reduced whiskers, Rebel now looks months younger! So so so bloody gorgeous... It's like Aidan from Sex and The City - with long hair and without!

Since I haven't been diligent feeding you guys with pictures of late, here's a series of Rebel having his afternoon nap yesterday.

And for those who needs a perfect after-lunch desktop wallpaper, double-click the following:

Makes you wanna sleep too, doesn't it?

They bark, not type.

2006-08-28T01:06:00.000+08:00

I stumbled a few local dog blogs this morning. Oddly enough, the blogs are recorded by the dogs themselves. Is it just Rebel being inadequate or have dogs somehow mastered typing? Maybe it's just me (no wait, I think it's just me) but I cringed at every single post where the owner tries to type as though its his or her dog typing. I don't get the logic of pretending to be the dog, and I'm glad I don't. Rebel will sue me for defamation if I ever impersonate him that way.

It's cheesy. It's silly. And it's way too hello-kitty. Next thing you know, these owners will start dressing their dogs to match their own attires. Trust me, I have already witnessed one such case.

I'll bet my last pack of cigarettes that they probably babytalk to their dogs too.

That, I'll leave to another day for debate.

I'll like to check this in please...

2006-08-23T23:20:00.000+08:00

I had to go on a last-minute business trip last Friday night to Beijing and Xiamen. I have been so damn busy prior to my trip, it's a miracle I even managed to find time in between getting off from work and rushing to the airport to walk Rebel. I even managed to slot in a bath for him.

JJ came to pick me up to the airport. Whilst waiting for me for get ready, she got creative with Rebel...

Kinda cute until I ripped Rebel's fur out when I removed the luggage label from his back.

Heh.

The Rubber Band Punishment

2006-08-05T22:32:00.000+08:00

When I was little, my tutor used to snap a rubber band upon my hand everytime I forget to complete my homework. Those days are gone, but tonight, my past was brought back thanks to Rebel.

An hour ago, Rebel, who was resting on the sofa with me, leaped across to the armchair (where my legs were resting upon) and bite my dad who was walking pass. Instinctively, my dad grabbed the nearest object he could find, and was about to swing it across Rebel's face when he realised it was just a harmless teddy bear.

Yes, I happen to have a teddy bear in the living room. It belongs to Rebel.

Anyway, back to the story. My dad dropped the teddy bear and went into the kitchen. When he reappeared, he was armed with a rubber band, grinning from ear to ear like Saddam with a AK-47. Aim properly, I warned. Either he didn't hear me, or he was blind. I got hit instead.

Thanks huh, sonny boy.

Haircut

2006-08-05T13:27:00.000+08:00

Snipped Rebel's super-long whiskers off today because he was starting to resemble a cat.

Nope, he ain't happy about it.

Hehe.

Humpty Dumpty

2006-08-02T19:03:00.000+08:00

Last night, I had a nightmare and I accidentally kicked Rebel off my bed.

Poor bugger.

So does he bite?

2006-07-30T13:47:00.000+08:00

I get asked that question quite a fair bit by friends and passerbys who get drawn in by Rebel's natural good looks.

It depends, I answer.

On what? They ask.

His mood, I reply.

Rebel either likes you, or he doesn't. He doesn't practise free love. He doesn't acknowledge the advantages of good PR skills. I am what I am, now take it or leave it. That is his motto. Then again, dogs don't get judged as easily as humans do.

I envy him. It's easy for Rebel to keep it real. He doesn't need to be wary of other dogs who may wag their tails in front of him, and bite his the moment he turn his back. He doesn't need to need to put on a smile or be forever labelled as rude, arrogant, and whatnot. He is only answerable to his owner - me, and nothing else really matter.

What a contrast it is to our lives. Everything seems to matter to us. What do I wear today? Do I need to wish someone I don't like Happy Birthday? I think I should. Oh god they just had lunch with her and now they're calling her a bitch? I thought they were her friends. Ok, so what do I do now? What if what I'm doing is wrong? But if I wait for a confirmation, am I gonna be deem as slow?

Like I said, I envy Rebel.Dogs don't get judged the same way humans do.

But lucky me. Rebel doesn't judge me too.

Here's Rebel and his pride. ;)

When dogs fall in love...

2006-07-22T14:01:00.000+08:00

... they just hump IMMEDIATELY. Sniff the ass, discover the age and gender, and off you go! Hump away!

I'm serious. That's what I've realised when I brought Rebel to the dog farm with a few of my friends. Oh! I have to say something first! After 3 months of yearning, Rebel finally met Ginger again! And he stuck to her like glue, even though that hottie she is, wasn't quite interested in boys shorter than her.

Rebel got a little carried away here... And yes, you're right, that's Ginger.

Here's the reason why Rebel loves Ginger so much. She's the Angelina Jolie of all dogs!

Sometimes, when dogs introduce themselves to each other, all they need to do is to stare. Like these fellas.

And when they're done with introductions, they start humping away.

And they hump... The Schnauzer, by the way, is my friend's male (yes, male) dog called Vodka. He's really popular with the other male dogs. We wonder why.

And when you have dogs fighting over you, it gets quite messy. Rudie (the Maltese), bit fur off the Japanese Spitz! And that's because he has a huge crush on Vodka for the longest time. Pisses you off to see your stud being humped by another, won't it?

That didn't stop the Japanese Spitz... And I think Vodka was just giving a sympathy fuck.

Here's how Rudie and Vodka's parents look like. Guess who owns who?

And here's ever-so-kind JJ, providing a mobile water cooler for random dogs. It was for Rebel, but he was too preoccupied with Ginger to drink. Basically, he'd rather die of thirst, than die of not cumming.

Rebel, unfortunately, had a golden retriever for a rival. And well, like most girls, they prefer the hunky ones.

Rebel didn't care how good looking the bloody golden retriever was. He had his paws firmly over Ginger like a possessive Korean boyfriend.

And finally, here's Rebel with his mummy. Ya ya... he was still looking at Ginger.

Anyone heading to the Dog Farm at Lor Halus the next time with your dogs, let me know? Rebel needs to meet more dogs!

Marky Mark

2006-07-15T18:00:00.000+08:00

Just walked Rebel. May I present to you, his impressive record of street accesories marked:

1. Lamp post: 2
2. Void deck pillar: 3
3. Tree: 1 (only because he was once bitten by a red ant whilst peeing at a tree)
4. Trash bin: 2

I think Rebel is trying to claim ownership of the entire neighbourhood. Woot! My boy's getting gutsy! And turning into a bloody one-dog Mafia clan.

I better stop him from doing the same later at Gen's. Six Avenue's too expensive for Rebel to mark. I might get sued by a Schnauzer.

Hahahaa.

Back for Good

2006-07-11T22:31:00.000+08:00

Rebel knows these things. On the night that I was to leave for London, Rebel knew. A long morning walk in the park, the sudden overload of affection from me, the frantic packing of waytoomuch clothes... he figured something was up. That night itself was incredibly tough for me. Rebel was probably feeling just as upset too. He showed his unwillingness to let me go by sitting on the jacket I needed to pack into my luggage.

According to my mum, when I left that night, Rebel was extremely anti-social and refused to entertain the family. His appetite stayed, thank god. I left him the unwashed top I wore during the day, so that my scent (body odour, rather) keeps him company. He wrapped himself in my top that night when he slept. I teared when my maid told me that the following day on the phone. Bugger. Never thought I could miss my baby boy that much.

Throughout my trip, I called every couple of days to check on him while making "I'm alive" confirmations to my mum at the same time. He has gotten close to my family progressively during my absence. Heck, he even slept with my maid. It's comforting to know that my baby boy is such a tough cookie, but damnit! HE SHOULD BE MISSING ME MORE! That swine forgot about my unwashed top by the second day! How sensitive is that!?

I kept getting reminded of Rebel each time I saw a dog strolling with his/ her owner down the streets, be it London, Amsterdam or Paris. It didn't help that my aunt has a 6-year-old Westie named Toto as well. Oh, at that, I'd like to proudly say that I taught Toto how to paw. Give credit to the teacher, not the learner. Not unless it's Rebel. Hah.

Thanks to a 3-hour flight delay (the plane we were on needed immediate repair, can you beat that), I got home late last night at about 10ish. I was half afraid that Rebel would forget me. You never know, right? I heard Chihuahuas can be quite pissy with owners that neglect them. Fortunately for me, Rebel was far from what I've envisioned. He stormed to me habitually with a toy in his mouth when I shouted for him at the gate, and it felt as though I never left.

Except of course, I did leave and thus, with no one permitted to shower Rebel (don't want no water entering his huge ears and making him go deaf), he fucking stinked. For the lack of a better description, he smelt like a 2-weeks-old underwear. Heh.

When I unpacked my luggage, Rebel helpfully hopped into it to help remove my dirty laundry. It was such a cute sight!

I think he was looking for my yellow thong. Hmm.

I truly enjoyed my trip (who's asking... haha) but I'm glad to be back. I had missed Rebel so bad. Although right now, with him sticking to me like glue and not leaving me for even 5 minutes to pee, I'm starting to get irritated. Hehe. But I love him anyhow.

Good news. Bad news.

2006-06-25T18:56:00.000+08:00

Rebel and I have just spent 6 hours at the clinic for a barium x-ray. A barium x-ray consists of about 4 - 5 x-rays conducted periodically, in 15 minutes, 30 minutes, an hour and 2 hours and so on. 5 syringes' worth of cocaine-like barium liquid was forced down Rebel's throat and the flow of the liquid was tracked by means of the x-rays.

At 15th minute, it's in his stomach. At 30th minute, it flows into his small intestines. At 60th minute, it fills his small intestines and starts to move into his big intestines. You get the picture.

So in between the time slots, Rebel and I had absolutely nothing to do but to watch CNA in mute. It was initially bearable but soon, Rebel had to find something to do. Like walking up 2 long flights of stairs to the animal wards (yeah it's both a clinic and an animal hospital), leaving me wonder where the hell he went. And helping out the ladies at the reception (no shit, he did... ).

At 2pm, after his 2nd x-ray, I carried Rebel out to grab a bite. He laid obediently on the seat next to mine while I had my lunch. At that point of time, I really felt like a single mother, god knows why. Here's how my baby looked.

By the time we returned to the clinic for his 3rd and 4th x-rays, Rebel lost his patience and became awfully temperamental. He started barking violently at the staff for no rhyme or reason. I don't blame him actually. The waiting time was truly a pain in the ass.

The last straw came when our pint-size friend here tried attacking a husky. "Tried" only because I managed to pull him up on the bench in time. God knows what Rebel was thinking because the husky's dick alone is longer than his body! He must've been really moody. In fact, he got so moody and incorporative that for the 3rd and 4th x-rays, that I had to help hold him down! I'm probably diffusing out radiation as we speak right now. Here's him sulking away, waiting for his turn.

Here's him declaring himself as the official door bitch.

From the blood test we took earlier (murphy's law: when we were trying to draw blood out from Rebel's leg, the amoutn gathered was pathetic... the moment we pulled the syringe out, he started bleeding...), we found that his ALT level at 75 has returned to the safe zone of 10 - 118. That means he doesn't suffer from liver necrosis anymore. Thank god.

Unfortunately and fortunately, we aren't able to detect the cause of his vomiting from the barium x-ray at all. It appears that his body's normal, and at very most, the only thing we can do now is to change his diet. Ruling out chicken, eggs, potatos, rice... what else can I feed him? Seafood?

I hope he recovers soon. Damn. You won't want to know how much I've chalked up for his medical bills.. S$1,450 ++ since April! That's enough to buy 2 Rebels. Maybe I should get him a female bitch to fuck. I mean, since you're sick, you may as well enjoy life a little more right? Let's hope nothing bad happens to my poor baby whilst I'm away in Europe.

:(

Bloody Hell

2006-06-11T15:03:00.000+08:00

Rebel puked out what seemingly looked like a stream of blood in this mixture of white fluid yesterday morning. That brought us back to Dr. Su this morning, waiting for 2 hours before we could see her.

Rebel hates waiting. This is his "Ok, I'm not pissed off yet, but if you don't get here soon, Imma bite your fingers" look.

According to Dr. Su after his diagnosis, his puking of blood might not be as serious as we thought because it was an ad-hoc incident, and it was right after he started his diet on pumpkins. So yeah, no more pumpkins, just more pills. Pray for him would you?

And oh, being horny, he tried humping a female doberman who was at the clinic too. The owner wasn't too pleased, but instead of finding the balls to tell me off, she decided to turn her fat face as black as her bitch. I didn't appreciate the lack of courage and told her "Hey in case you didn't hear me the first time, I said I'm sorry. So get over it.". Not a bad move I thought. Cos she ended up speechless, and went outside the clinic to wait instead. Hehe.

Yeah, I'm a bitch too. But hello? If you have a problem with me, you tell it to my face ok? I have already apologised. What do you want me to do? Get Rebel to hump your fat ass too? Fucking get over it and move on to bigger (pun intended) issues already. Like go to a slimming centre or something.

Here's baby boy on his throne. Hmmmph.

Clean freak

2006-06-08T23:38:00.000+08:00

Like his owner, Rebel's incredibly anal when it comes to cleaniness. After peeing on the papers each time, he'd wipe his paws on the kitchen mat.

You should see it in action. It's really cute.

353

2006-06-04T22:36:00.000+08:00

I've got great news!!! Rebel had another blood test today, a week since we were last told of his liver necrosis illness, and guess what? Rebel's ALT level has dropped from the original 918 to 353!!! Yay!!! It's still 3 times higher than the acceptable range but fuck man! It went down 2-thirds!

Damn I'm really happy!

353! 353! 353!

Now let's try to hit 118!

118! 118! 118!

Fuck I sound like I'm at an auction.

Moody Rebel

2006-06-01T21:09:00.000+08:00

Rebel isn't adjusting well to his new diet. He is eating alright (what choice does he have?) but his mood swings harder than Mike Tyson's boxing bag. With exception to me, he has been getting really fiesty with my family members. My not-too-pleased parents were prompt enough in updating me how Rebel attacked their knees (yeah he can jump pretty high) repeatedly.

In the past, Rebel would happily jump on the sofa and rest his body next to my mum, who'd be reading her evening papers. Now, she runs the risk of having her toes bitten off by Rebel. Yup, that's how tempermental Rebel has become.

He's still the same ol' same ol' with me, strangely enough. On the contrary, I thought he has become far more attentive of my existence. When I sleep, he'd watch the door like a hawk. Every time someone walks pass, or enter my room, his barking goes off in a far more sensitive manner than your 7-11 doorbell.

I'm bringing him in for a second blood test this Sunday. He's still puking, but it's pretty minimal this time. Hopefully, he'd recover... Really pains me to have to force a cocktail of tablets down his throat every day.

On a positive note, I discovered that my boy likes papaya! The only problem is, I have to feed him or he won't eat. Spoilt brat....

Heartbroken

2006-05-28T19:01:00.000+08:00

Rebel's ALT enzyme level is 918. The normal level in a dog is 118. That means he is potentially suffering from liver necrosis. That means he would die.

I brought Rebel down to the Animal Recovery Centre hospital at Balestier Road today for a blood text and an x-ray. He has been vomiting for the longest time, and neither the Vet nor I could figure out what's wrong.

I was told by the Vet to stay strong and positive, so as to avoid causing Rebel any unnecessary stress. "Rebel will notice," said Dr. Sulyni. I'm not sure how am I suppose to stay positive, especially when my son's ALT enzyme level is 9 times more than average. I asked the assistant before we left the hospital if Rebel would die. I was given the "it all depends in each individual" non-committal crap-ass answer. I got specific and asked "ok, well would he die in the next couple of years?" "No." the assistant replied half-heartedly.

Dr. Sulyni, on the other hand, was much more comforting. She said that while Rebel's ALT enzyme level is definitely high, she has seen dogs who have higher levels, and are still alive. She continued by saying that it is a good thing Rebel's appetitate and energy level has not decrease and between having a kidney or liver condition, she would prefer the latter.

There are no cure for liver problems, but the liver apparently has the ability to heal by itself by means of regeneration of cells. Hence, Rebel is now on a liquid diet and debridat tablets for his liver. Additionally, the floor should not be mopped with floor detergent as he's suspected of consuming amounts of such by licking. It doesn't help that my maid is too lazy to mop the floor an extra time with water. She has been letting the detergent-coated floor dry by itself and I've been too tactless to notice that Rebel could've been consuming the harmful chemicals.

I'm really feeling awful today. I wish I could take Rebel's pain away. I'm just glad he put up such a brave front when he got his blood drawn out by this HUGE syringe and had to undergo an x-ray without me by his side.

:`(

Red Light

2006-05-21T15:09:00.000+08:00

Rebel stopped traffic today. Literally. This morning during our walk, Rebel began running after a couple of 7/8 year old boy and girl. You see, Rebel likes chasing after other people for some strange reason. But usually, after following them for about 5 steps or so, he'd turn back and run towards me.

Today he didn't. Instead of running towards me, from about 50 metres from where he was at, he continued running after the couple of pertrified kids. The stupid boy got really scared and started running across the road. Dumb fucking ass. Hasn't his mum told him that little Chihuahuas can't kill? Hasn't TV taught him that if a dog runs after him, the last thing he should do is to run because that encourages the dog to run faster?

Again, dumb fucking ass.

At lighting speed, I sprinted after Rebel and shouted at the boy "DON'T RUN! DON'T RUN!" at the same time. My god. The last time I sprinted was about 10 years ago when I was in the school's track-and-field team. 10 years ago! Before I discovered Mr Phillip Morris and Johnnie Walker!

Thankfully, the boy realised he couldn't outrun Rebel and finally slowed down. I ran across the road, raised my hands up at the oncoming traffic, and whopped Rebel up into my arms, giving him a 5-minutes lecture no less.

And meanwhile, there were 4 cars on the left and 3 cars on the right, that were forced to break because of Rebel.

Great job, Rebel. Apart from trying to chew off my Tramadol pills again this morning (look, it was in my freaking bag, across the tabe... who would've thought Rebel would climb up like a cat to dig for my pills?), he tried to do a M:1:III stunt.

Dogs do not have 9 lives, my son.

The Long Stretch

2006-05-13T11:56:00.000+08:00

He does that every morning, from my pillow all the way down the bed.

Keep Out-of-reach from Rebel

2006-05-07T19:46:00.000+08:00

It has been a frightening day, today. I woke up to find Rebel chewing on my Tramadol capsule wrapper. He had taken them off my desk (which my bed's aligned next to) since he got bored trying to wake me up. I was shocked to see a dent on a capsule. Tramadol, or at least, the ones I take for my menstrual cramps, is extremely strong. Hell, you can even die from an overdose if you're not careful.

And Rebel was this close in taking one. What if I didn't wake up in time? Good god, It 's scary just thinking about it.

And yeah, now all my pills are concealed out of his reach. Now I know why pills need to be kept out of reach from children. I'm just sorry I was so irresponsible.

Dinnr at Gen's

2006-05-06T18:59:00.000+08:00

I haven't been blogging of late because I do have a life, and trust me, this couple of weeks has been awfully trying. Still, I survived. And tonight, I may be bringing Rebel over to Gen's place for dinner. No, dinner's for humans. He ate his beef & cabbage stew already anyway.

Will update soon.

By the way, I do have a complaint about my son. Like all insensitive men, he won't look at me in the eyes when he kisses me. :P

DOs and DON'Ts for a 1-year-old Dog

2006-04-23T12:29:00.000+08:00

It's Rebel's 1st birthday today. Now everyday wish him a happy birthday, would you? Given the series of events that had happened since I got back from my Harley-Davidson media ride last afternoon, I thought I should pen down a list of DOs and DON'Ts for my young rebellious son. Rebel, if you're reading this, make sure you read the following VERY CAREFULLY.

DO tug your bed by the mouth from the living room into the bedroom by yourself when I return home. It's very endearing.

DO eat your horrible list of medicine given by the Vet dutifully. Despite having to now consume antibiotics (yeah, first was probiotics, now its antibiotics), detox pills and some yucky green tablet twice a day for 10 days, you've been such a good boy in doing so. Your mummy won't even commit to 5 days of antibiotics for fear of missing out on her weekend drinking sessions.

DON'T be shy when it comes to hitting on female dogs. If a superhot King Charles Cavalier named Ginger comes barking for you from the opposite side of the fence from the open field we always play at, it's ok to strut your ass over to charm her. Don't wait for Mummy to ask Ginger's Daddy if we could go over to the hill they were lying on.

DO have the courage to pick on any bitch of any breed and size that you fancy. Ginger may be twice as big as you, but who cares right? Look at Tom Cruise.

DO engage in foreplay before trying to hump any bitch. That includes Ginger, who tried kissing you but you won't have none of those. Nothing is as rude as turning your head away in a kiss attempt from a 9-month-old bitch and then tucking your head under her legs to lick her pussy.

DO sit by the side of your newfound love whilst your Mummy and your potential father-in-law talk about marriage plans for both of you. Good boy. You did good.

DON'T be such a clumsy ass and roll down the hill with 2 full rounds when your bitch was chasing you. Tripping on your own paws is so uncool. You even got the people from the 4th-storey of the opposite block laughing away.

DON'T fuck your bitch in front of her father. Trust me, you were lucky you didn't get on the Soup-of-the-Day menu.

DON'T struggle and whine when it's time to depart from your bitch and go home. Your mummy should always come first (no, not that way).

DO give your bitch a goodbye kiss always. I love how your puny tongue could only cover the tip of Ginger's nose.

DON'T go into the woods with Ginger and disappear out-of-sight. Leave that to the guys from Brokeback Mountain. It's illegal in Singapore.

And this one is for your dear ol' mummy herself:

DO ask for Ginger's father's number so that Rebel can hook up with her again. Now they may never meet ever again. Bummer.

Born to Rebel

2006-04-20T17:43:00.000+08:00

Feeling bad that I'd have to leave Rebel a night alone while I ride up to Malacca with my Harley-Davidson clients tomorrow, I splurged on a squeaky pillow and leather collar...

I absolutely adore this picture of Rebel and his new Harley-Davidson collar below. I should propose to my Client to use him as a model.

Isn't it sad that my eyes are smaller than my dear Chihuahua's?

Imma have to bring Rebel back to the Vet on Saturday when I return. He's still puking. It's been a month and I can't figure out why. He's as active as ever, and his poo looks fine. So no, its not a virus or anything. But a month of puking? I'm starting to think he might be allergic to me.

Sit sit sit sit sit!!!

2006-04-14T12:29:00.000+08:00

I was watching a dog training DVD previously and the trainer provided a funny insight on us, unsophiscated, unofficial trainers of our dogs. He deadpans, "Most of you use the Sit sit sit sit sit! command, which isn't really a Sit command because by the time your dog does sit down, it's because he's bored looking at you."

Feeling my ego bruised from his brutal truth, I started training Rebel religiously on a single-command Sit a couple of nights ago. My dad watched at awe while Rebel sat instantly at my command. Immediately, he interrupted our training session with "Seeeet! Seeeet!". Rebel turned his head towards my dad, and ignored him afterwhich.

My dad hasn't given up though. He's still going "Seeeet! Seeeet!" everytime he sees Rebel. And when Rebel barks at him, my dad would ask "What is he saying huh?". Ya, like I know.

Simply Stupid

2006-04-12T22:37:00.000+08:00

A picture paints a thousand words. Or the lack of.

Dog Rolls

2006-04-08T12:41:00.000+08:00

I bought Rebel 3 Dog Rolls from Natural Balance a couple of days ago, during lunch time. They were on offer at "3 for $5", so I thought, what the heck right? My poor son could use a treat over the weekend after a week of yucky bland rice and boiled chicken.

I dumped the Dog Rolls into this blue box that contains all of Rebel's stuff, from Conditioner, to Dental Wipes, to bags of milk bones and Cesar gourmet food cans. The blue box is placed in the kitchen on the floor, right next to the sink. Rebel got curious, poked his head into the blue box, and carried a Dog Roll in his mouth and came into the living room to look for me.

He dropped the Dog Roll at my feet where I was sitting and gave me the "Open my dog roll up for me" look. I said no. He didn't give up. He took the Dog Roll in his mouth again, and placed it in between my legs on the armchair. I looked at him with my slit-eyes and mouthed, "NO.". He gave me a grunt, retrieved the Dog Roll in his mouth, and dropped it back into the blue box.

Isn't that so, so cute?

Ok, today, Imma serve him the Dog Roll. Hee.

Why no Pet Leave?

2006-04-03T16:52:00.000+08:00

In the modern days of our lives, the average struggling employee who suffers a good 12 hours a day listening to Bosses talk cock, Clients sing song, and Suppliers play mahjong, enjoys an array of various leave entitlements. You fall sick? Got medical leave. Your grandmother got knocked down by a bus and died on the spot? Got 5-day compassionate leave (grandparents' funeral got 2 days extra, don't know why). You got pregnant and have to marry that bugger who's too cheapskate to use a condom? Got marriage leave. Your son fell sick? Its ok, you can leave early today. No worries.

So why the hell did my MD stare at me with such amusement when I said I had to take urgent (UNPAID, by the way) leave because Rebel has a fever? The logical person he is, was about to debate about how I'd even know my dog has a fever until I gave him my famous "slit-eyes-stare-so-don't-fuck-with-me" look. Finally he nodded his head and said "I hope your dog will be ok".

Why huh? Why no bloody Pet Leave huh? I just don't get it. A good number of us in Singapore don't even see much of our grandparents these days for their dementia-suffering minds to even recall our names, for crying out loud. And if they deserve a 5-day crying session from us although frankly, if we had wanted, we would've visited them more than just once a year, why don't our dear sick pets get entitled to at least one day of love from his or her owner? Hmmmmphh.

Anyhow, Rebel is diagnosed with stomach indigestion. Which apparently is a normal thing for dogs. So for the next week or so, Rebel will be one a "hospital diet". Steamed rice and boiled chicken breast meat only. I told my mum that she's not allowed to cook the chicken breast meat for dinner today, and she got pissed. Heh. Whatever.

And oh yeah, he has to take 2 dosage of Probiotics (note: not Antibiotics because apparently, his antibiotism level very high... whatever that means), twice a day.

Rebel nearly got angry with me for taking him for a manicure straight after he had the thermometer poked up his ass (hey did you know that they measure a dog's temperature by poking the thermometer up his/ her ass? Wow... so brokeback mountain..). He ignored me for a fair bit of our journey home. Until the part where we were about to get off the cab... he looked up at me and licked my face, almost saying "Yeah, I forgive you this time."

Half-day unpaid leave. $47 for his consultation fee. $10.80 for a return cab trip. We ought to be able to claim. I want my Pet Leave!

Everyone in favour for Pet Leave, say WOOF!

P.S. Like that huh, I should get Pet Compassionate Leave too. My dad's prized arrowana just died.

Sick Rebel

2006-04-01T13:22:00.000+08:00

I think Reb has caught the flu bug from me. He puked 5 times yesterday. :( Shit. I gotta get him to the Vet.

Pray for him would you?

Funny Wednesday

2006-03-30T20:55:00.000+08:00

I didn't go into the office yesterday because I figured I had to do something about my nagging stomach pains before I see my intestines spilling out when I shit. Turns out, I've been suffering from gastric flu. It didn't seem to make much of a difference being at home instead of the office - I was working from 11am until 6pm rushing a damn pitch deck before I could even see the Doc.

But it was nice being at home with Rebel. About 2pm or so, I heard some pesky kids shouting out his name. Must be the silly old man from next door with his cigarette and 2 grand daughters. I went to the door to check on the commotion and to my surprise, there were 4 bloody kids and 2 adults waiting to catch a glimpse of Rebel. Rebel has fans stalking his home? Good grief.

Rebel entertained the kids for a bit while I returned to my work. He would stroll into my room, get him to put him on my lap while I worked, and then get off to play with his bone, etc. Before I know it, my mum came home and shouted immediately "REBELLLLLLL!!!!!!!!!!!" Great, so what is it this time? I went out and discovered that sonny boy, who probably thought he's a celebrity now, pooed on my mum's very expensive carpet and the worse part is, my mum stepped on his royal shit. How bad can a situation get right?

My mum chose not to pick a fight with me on Rebel, but left me to lecture him instead. She probably knew I would've fired back 10 times as much as she would shoot at me. We got on with dinner and our usual coffee in the living room, when Rebel started tapping my mum with his paws, trying to get her attention for some weird reason. Dumbass. My mum started nagging at him for a good 10 minutes, as though he was her child (yes, been there, done that)! Rebel tilted his head to the side, wondering what the heck my mum was saying.

My mum can't nag at me anymore, and starts nagging at a dog? Sheesh.

The Apoco Deodar Family

2006-03-25T22:11:00.000+08:00

From left to right: Bro, Rebel and Daddy

I thought I should start by introducing Rebel's family first. Rebel met his father and brother for the first time today, since I first took him away to my home. The local breeder was nice enough to allow me to bring Rebel over to visit his family. I thought he should. Afterall, my poor baby boy hasn't got much mutt love since the fat Jack Russell encounter.

Daddy was first brought out to the backyard to meet him. And like all dog introductions go, Daddy sniffed his ass to size up his identity. Now isn't that funny if the same behavior occurs in humans? He's my missing son! I sniffed his ass! I know!

And he continued sniffing, just to be sure...

Once Daddy was sure he was his son, he taught Rebel how to pee like a man. But dad! I already know how to pee like that lah!

Afterwhich Daddy decides to hump Rebel. No, I'm not joking. If there is anything I've learnt about dogs today, it would be that the words "gay" and "incest" do not exist in the Cambridge dictionary for dogs. I don't mind Rebel being gay at all, but letting your family fuck you up the ass? Urgh. That's just plain gross. I think Rebel shared the same sentiments too. The smart guy that he is, kept rolling over so that he won't get fucked.

In the picture below to be honest, I think Rebel was simply trying to show his daddy how big his dick is.

The local breeder went to fetch Rebel's brother to join the duo.

And what do you know... Bro wants to hump Rebel too.

I think I might try to submit this picture to one of those boring dog photo contests, you know, to spice things up a little. Here's the family having a menagé trois. Oh, just to be clear, the one being fucked (almost) is Rebel, the one fucking him is his daddy, while the one trying to kiss him is his bro.

Bro got rejected by Rebel. Hmph. It's ok, he's about to be sold as a Stud dog. He'd have plenty of time for humping real bitches.

I would like to stress that Rebel DID NOT get sodomised by his own family. Despite the repeated attempts, Rebel had always managed to escape the rear entry in time. Now that we have that cleared, have anyone noticed that while Rebel's coat is fawn, both Daddy and Bro each has a slightly darker brown coat? Isn't that weird? The local breeder assured that the color of the dogs' coat changes as they grow, and having different colored coats within the same family is perfectly normal. That won't be acceptable in our human world alright. My grandma would faint if I deliver anything but a yellow baby.

After messing around with his family for 2 hours, I decided it was time to head home. I think Rebel had a really good time today, despite the sexual hits. I'll bring him back to see them some other time if the local breeder doesn't start finding me irritating.

This is for all who's wondering what's "Apoco Deodar" all about. I found out today from the local breeder that Rebel's a Apoco Deodar Chihuahua. Apoco Deodar Chihuhuas' roots originate from England. In other words, my baby boy barks with a sexy British accent. Woot!

Whiskey Dry, please

2006-03-18T19:07:00.000+08:00

The past couple of days walking Rebel has been a little too eventful for my nicotine-infested heart. Yesterday, sonny boy got a taste of his own medicine when an extremely obese Jack Russel from United States started chasing him ferociously. That American's called Whiskey. And boy did he serve his shots straight up to Rebel. Rebel, being the one with the far better physique, outran Whiskey like a Skyline would with a Charade. Hehe. After outrunning the fat bastard, our petrified Rebel laid on the grass, rubbing his nose with his paws. That reminds me of my habitual behavior - I'd rub my nose subconsciously when I'm embarrassed or nervous.

This evening, with no sight of the fat bastard, Rebel surprised me by peeing on a lamp post with his leg up for the first time. I have been worried that he'd continue to pee like a girl for the rest of his life, especially when I was told by Rudie's mum that "Don't worry, he'd learn to pee like a boy when he sees other male dogs,". Problem is, Rebel has no other male dogs to play with! The closest he has would be that fat bastard. Anyhow, I'm glad he somehow figured how to pee like a man. Maybe he caught a glimpse of my dad or something.

And oh yes, one last thing. He didn't watch where he was going today, and he fell into the drain. Hahahahahaa.

Rationing

2006-03-16T22:15:00.000+08:00

When Rebel first started eating his kibbles, he used to finish them within 5 minutes upon serving him. Which was why I was left puzzled and worried even, when he began to leave his bowl of kibbles unfinished each morning.

During my short break last week, I found out why.

Rebel figured that if he finishes up his meal in the morning, there will not be any left for the rest of the day. Hence, he paced himself and only finishes his kibbles by the end of the night before he goes to bed. I should know, I noticed his brilliant act of food rationing last Thursday when I was taking a break from work.

Now tell me my baby boy ain't smart?

And here's him saying Love.

What a Beach!

2006-03-11T13:22:00.000+08:00

Rebel came along to Sentosa yesterday with Joyce, Hilda and myself. While driving with Rebel to pick the girls up, I realised how I can't afford to place Rebel on my lap whilst driving anymore. That bugger probably thinks he's Senna trapped in a Chihuahua's body or something. He refused to get his paws off my steering wheel. And half the time while speeding, I was trying to bury him under my t-shirt for fear of getting caught by the Traffic Police on the highway.

We got to Siloso Beach, Sentosa, at approximately 11am or so. As soon as we laid our mats (or rather, Joyce and Hilda laid their mats, I completely forgot to bring anything but Rebel and my camera!), I brought Rebel out into the sea. Theory has it that all dogs are born with the ability to swim, and what better way to test that theory right? I dropped Rebel nicely into the freezing water, and immediately, he started swimming auto-pilot! Woo-hoo! You have no idea how excited I was, knowing that I don't have to spend any extra cash on swimming lessons for Rebel!

Being the pussy that he is, Rebel swam frantically towards the shore. Here's him spin-drying himself.

Then I got tired and decided to rest my ass with the girls and my ice coffee. Rebel started roaming about the beach, chasing after every single passerby, and even sneaking up behind 2 Chinese girls, sending them into a high-decibel shrieking session (by the way, its just a harmless Chihuahua, why do you scream as though you got fucked up the ass?). Noticeably, for a dog that's color blind, he sure as hell is racist. I couldn't help but notice how he would ran after only gay white men. Hmmm.

It wasn't long before Rebel got thirsty under that merciless heat. So I went to the beach bar, Sunset Bay, to get him water. Fuck man, his freaking water cost me $2.00 per bottle. And he drunk 2! I should've brought 1.5litres from home.

For someone who has a size 6 ass, I haven't got the slightest clue why the hell my ass is so freaking big here. Maybe its because I'm standing right next to Rebel.

Rebel made a bad mistake by digging his slightly-wet face into the sand, like he would, with his own pillow. Naturally, the sand clinged on irritatingly to his eyes, nose and well, pretty much everywhere else. I was pretty worried at first, when he started oinking like a pig. The sand probably got stuck in his nostrils and he couldn't breathe properly. I became this frantic mother, trying to feed him with water whilst rubbing his chest. Meanwhile, the girls were happily suntanning away...

Finally, Rebel's breathing got better and he figured lying on the mat was much safer. I suppose his position may changed the moment he gets introduced to sandflies...

After resting for about say, 10 minutes or so, Rebel decided to return to the bar. We met a few of the bar staff earlier when we were getting his water and my beer. Rebel struted about the bar, as though he owns the place. From checking customers if they're satisfied with their drinks, to watching some half-naked blokes play pool, to oggling at women at the showers, Rebel sure looks comfortable being a beach bum.

Unfortunately, Mummy's a city girl and by 330pm, it was enough sun and sand for the day. We went home, and I gave Rebel an extremely long bath before he lets himself into my room.

And oh yeah, here's a final picture of Rebel and I, on our very first Beach trip. I think there'll be more to come.

Chasing Chicks

2006-03-09T13:40:00.000+08:00

I live in an urdanised country where the only chickens we ever see are the deep fried ones from KFC, or those live ones held within the vicinity of the Zoo. Hence my astonishment this afternoon when Rebel and I stumbled upon a hen clucking away at the open field.

While initially cautious of the hen being bigger in size, Rebel soon realised that she was "just another bird" and started chasing after her. By chasing, I mean 4 fucking blocks! The poor hen was so frightened by Rebel's aggressiveness that she began to fly!

A hen flying! What are the odds of that happening in our modern world?

Anyhow, while I chased Rebel who was chasing the hen, plenty of passerbys stopped to watch the free entertainment. Come and think about it, it was really crazy. By the time the hen detoured and ran 4 blocks back to the starting point of our chase, she was forced upon a bicycle stand, where Rebel could not reach.

10 minutes of growling at the hen to "come down" later, I got seriously bored and decided we should head home and leave the hen alone.

Anyone missing a hen for dinner, please feel free to contact me.

You cannot be serious!

2006-03-05T22:29:00.000+08:00

My disability to say no to any issues concerning my mum had resulted in me having to attend a cousin's birthday BBQ party with her only just. I'm not the least close to this cousin of mine. Heck, I would've just text her a Happy Birthday greeting if wasn't for my mum. No wait, I don't think I'd even do that. I don't have her number at all.

As expected, Rebel and I got bored in no time. We went into a vacant tennis court which was next to the BBQ pit to kill time. And then I found ourselves watching the scrawny blokes next door playing tennis. One of them has a really good groundstrokes. Yes, says the person who never played tennis all her life.

One missing best friend

2006-03-05T12:23:00.000+08:00

One of my 27 diamonds went missing from my ring. I'm hoping Rebel didn't accidentally swallow it when he chewed on my finger.

I don't need to get his stomach x-rayed, do I?

Alone in the darkness

2006-03-04T14:33:00.000+08:00

My poor son slept alone in the living room last night. I had my farewell party last night at Ink, and 2 shots of Barcardi 151 were all it took for me to pass out. I never claim to be a good drinker, but seriously, 80% alcohol? I wonder who the hell could consume it without passing out. A fat Aussie with a Botticelli tummy maybe.

I honestly do not remember how the hell I got home, but thankfully, I was in good company. This morning at 9, I woke up to vomit-drenched hair and no sight of Rebel. It is pretty scary, not having a single ounce of recollection on how I even got home. But I reckon Rebel had a scarier night alone for the first time in the living room.

Due to an unfortunate incident that had just happened at home, I now have to lock my bedroom at all times for my own protection. And because of that, I have to move Rebel's bed from my room out to the living room each morning before I head to work. Last night was just unfortunate that I wasn't sober enough to bring him into my room.

Never again, ok baby boy?

Here's a picture of him catching his dog nap right now.

Rudie Bites Rebel

2006-02-28T19:39:00.000+08:00

Rudie is gorgeous. And he looks so gentle. But don't let the ivory white fur fool you now. Rudie's incredibly territorial and he sure as hell won't let you roam about his house without his permission. And he doesn't give permission.

Rebel met Rudie for the second time yesterday since Christmas. Rebel's a little more grown up now, and unlike the last time, he was more eager to roam about a stranger's home these days.

Unfortunately, I think Rebel caught Rudie on a bad day. Rudie made his presence felt with the constant growling and barking. And Rebel, being the pussy that he is, was petrified to say the least.

We tried to place them close together and introduce them to each other. Bad mistake. Rudie bit Rebel on the nose. Hahahahaa.

I think Rebel was pretty shaken up. He cried like a baby. Oh dear. Well at least his nose is still intact.

Parenting Advice

2006-02-25T13:23:00.000+08:00

I complained to my mum just the other day on how Rebel has picked up a really bad habit of taking his Pro Plan kibbles from the kitchen, using his mouth as a makeshift poach, and bringing them to the living room to eat.

"I see no difference in that and you insisting on eating in front of the TV instead of at the dining table." snorted my mum.

Right.

I woke up 2 days back to the sight of Rebel's poo in my living room. Being quite a moody morning person, especially when I have yet to consume my 16oz coffee, I took him up in my left arm and slapped his butt 5 times until he cried. My dad chided me for doing so, saying "Why do you have to hit him so hard?!"

"Why not!? I don't see you saying that when you were hitting me (as a kid)!"

He shut up and went to work promptly.

Heh.

Wire Muncher

2006-02-22T10:29:00.000+08:00

I failed to log online last night to update Rebel's blog because that bugger had brilliantly munched my cable wire until it resembled minced meat. Now I've to go get myself a new cable wire. Grr.

The night before, I sunk into the darkness of my room and started crying. Something had happened, and I wasn't feeling the best of moods. Rebel must've heard me, for he jumped up my bed using the designer stool by the side, and came up to me to lick my tears dry. Afterwhich, he snuggled up next to me. Just like that, I stopped crying.

And that's why he's forgiven for removing my internet access.

Who let the dogs out?

2006-02-19T21:30:00.000+08:00

Had a ball today hitting the drums at the Studio. Wooot. I think I love this newfound instrument. So does Rebel. Heck, he even came up with an album titled Who let the dogs out?.

Available in all good music stores and Morpheus.

Baby Steps

2006-02-18T11:19:00.000+08:00

Rebel's progressing pretty well with his reactivated paper training. With exception to once when he peed on the floor simply because there weren't any newspapers left, he has been dutifully leaving his business where it should be.

On the first morning into his paper training, I locked him up in the kitchen instead of having him sitting next to me reading the daily papers together like we do every morning. He didn't take it that well, and he won't stop pounding his paws against the kitchen's sliding glass door. I let him out after he peed. The poor boy was so exhausted from all that pounding that he laid still like a dead fish.

He's still not too pleased about having to skip daily paper readings with me though. And in light of escaping being dragged to the kitchen, he discovered a new hiding place. Under the armchair Jesse used to use as a kennel.

Just for laughs, here's hime getting himself entangled with his stupid toy. Silly dog.

Resting Thy Arse

2006-02-17T16:54:00.000+08:00

Even a dog needs to rest his ass when chewing a bone.

Un-learning

2006-02-15T13:09:00.000+08:00

Rebel has officially stopped doing his business totally on the newspaper. Despite the constant scolding and occasionally beatings, he adamantly refuses to obey the need to dedicate his business within the perimeters of a national broadsheet paper. It is frustrating to know that it's possible for a puppy to "unlearn" a skill.

Out of desperation, I called the local breeder up today. He suggests that I confine him to the kitchen where the newspapers are, for at least a month, or until he "gets it".

I guess that's the only way.

Everywhere. Anywhere.

2006-02-14T09:13:00.000+08:00

I have officially ran out of ideas of preventing Rebel from peeing and pooing all over the apartment.

Initially, we thought he had a thing for the expensive Arabian carpets and hence, much to my mum's unhappiness, I removed every piece from the surface. Then he continued peeing at the exact same spot. That spot was then given a major Dettol defragmentation to kill off the scent. That obviously didn't work, for he decided to move on by peeing and pooing everywhere. Anywhere.

The thing is, Rebel does his business on the newspapers. But at the same time, he finds it amusing to pee/ poo NEXT to the newspapers on the marbled floor. How fucking irritating is that?!

I'm not sure what else to do anymore. The "magazine-beating" treatment doesn't seem to work.

Someone please help me.

Measure and see!

2006-02-11T03:28:00.000+08:00

Heh. Need I say more?

The Simple Things

2006-02-10T20:38:00.000+08:00

It's always the simple things that matter. The simple things seam together to form a nice beautiful blanket that keeps us warm and fuzzy, against the merciless cold.

The simple things that Rebel does plaster a smile upon my face always. Like how he refuses to get off my dad's favourite seat because that's his favourite seat too. Or how he defiantly engages in a staring session with the Empress Dowager - my mum.

Or how he sleeps at night. Like this.

One short low-fat vanilla latte!

2006-02-08T03:36:00.000+08:00

I've decided to change Rebel's shampoo from Earthbath to Vetbasis not because the former wasn't doing its job in keeping him clean, but his coat has getting brittle and dry. And frankly, the Shampoo smelt like a heavy-duty hairloss product that a Client of mine sells.

The Vetbasis Conditioning Shampoo I've bought is a 2-in-1, and a mere 355ml bottle costs a whopping S$24.90. Hell, even my Shampoo doesn't cost that much. The Vanilla Musk scented one I brought contains natural herbal extracts, DEA & Alcohol Free, conditioning proteins, hypo-allergenic and pH balanced. Damn, I sound like I'm writing an ad.

I just gave Rebel a shower. He smells absolutely heavenly. Like a short low-fat vanilla latte. Yummy.

Dawg Player

2006-02-05T10:03:00.000+08:00

Apprehension soaked my mind thinking about bringing Rebel out for 2 consecutive house parties on Saturday. He is as sociable as I am with 25 godknowstheirbloodynames relatives sardine-packed in a 2-bedroom apartment in Yishun. The last time I brought him out for a house party was during Christmas, and he looked so moody that night, it was as though Pro Plan decided to shut their business down.

We embarked on a very expensive cab ride to a friend's place in Stratmore Avenue. Rebel's newfound sociability took me by surprise. Not only was he friendly (minus the fact that he was particularly rude with a certain man), he was gracious enough to share his toys with the resident Maltese, K.

And then I discovered why the sudden generousity - Rebel has a crush on K. Here's him flirting shamelessly with K...

And then he went on telling me all about it.

I decided to head over to Gen's place, which is about 10 minutes drive at Sixth Avenue, before Rebel starts humping K. When we got there, Rebel continued his good behaviour and started flirting with a lady. God knows where he learnt to go for the toes...

His tactic must've worked. Soon after, Lady wanted to take a picture with sonny boy. That lucky bastard.

More than 5 hours later, Rebel finally got tired and stopped hopping about Gen's place like a baby joey. And I got tired of losing my money to Gen (the spell's broken, my yin is not as strong as her yang... this is by far the first time I've lost to someone else in Blackjack!). So there we were, sleepng on Gen's sofa like 2 babies...

Sorry, there aren't any pictures of us sleeping. The rest were way too busy playing mahjong.

18 nails

2006-02-02T03:47:00.000+08:00

"Hey it's me Pat..."

"Simi taichi?"

"Tell me, does your dog have 4 or 5 nails on each of his back legs???? Mine has only 4 each! And I felt a 5th ingrown one!!! How??!! Normal anot!!!"

"I call you back."

5 minutes later...

"Hello, its NORMAL lah! My dog also has 4 nails each on the back! I thought what! Haiii..."

"How about the ingrown nail? Normal meh?"

"Normal lah!"

"Oh. Ok! Thanks!"

"Bye."

I'm a Virgo. I deserve the right to be paranoid.Here's my poor baby boy before being locked up in the Kitchen on the first day of Chinese New Year. He's been marking his terriority on our new dining table carpet and as such, my mum adamantly refuses to let him roam about freely without my supervision. Since its not exactly my home to begin with, the only thing I can do is to try to stop Rebel from marking. I feel a great pain when he gets locked up alone. :( Hopefully he'd get the message soon. Afterall, he has already figured how to sit on command (as of yesterday).

Backflip

2006-01-26T07:57:00.000+08:00

My tired, half-dead body was welcomed by an over-estatic Chihuahua this evening. I came home later than usual, and Rebel started hopping all over me like an Indian with a coconut tree. His legs are pretty steady by now, and he jumps on my lap at complete ease. So up he went, upon my lap while I struggled to remove my stinking day-old socks. Then he lost his balance, did a backflip in mid air, and fell on his ass.

I kid you not.

The Rebelsutra

2006-01-24T07:21:00.000+08:00

I believe I can fly

2006-01-21T22:14:00.000+08:00

Very reluntantly, I dragged my feet out of my apartment today to brace the merciless heat of the afternoon sun. Rebel needs his excerise, and I'm superficial. I don't want a fat ass for a son. My body feels it has been ran down by a bus. I had my long-overdue workout at the gym yesterday and I suppose my body isn't being too receptive.

Given my physical condition, I allowed Rebel to run about by himself and well, he found a new hobby - chasing birds. Notice that bird in the background. That's the same bird that wittedly lured Rebel into thinking he can fly too. And he ended up on the road for a good 5 seconds before my voice thundered for his return.

The sad thing about Rebel is, he is afraid of cats. Yes, here, I said it. My dog-with-a-really-cool-name is afraid of cats. He's a bigger pussy than the pussies. How is that remotely possible? We bumped into a couple of stray cats, and instead of attacking them like a real man, he crawled between my legs for security. I tried to bring him toward the cats (yes, I'm a sadist) but that bugger simply refused to even move an inch. On a positive note, at least he's not afraid of birds. Man, if that day comes, I will officially change Rebel's name to Princess. Or Singaporean Man*. HAHAHAHA!

*This defamatory statement excludes the likes of Ryan Chua, Cecil Hamilton, and certain political figures I hereby withhold mentioning.

His Piglet

2006-01-21T06:32:00.000+08:00

One of his many soft toys. I'll try to take one of him and Tigger the next time.

You know its love...

2006-01-21T05:11:00.000+08:00

... when you don't scream at your dog for chewing your Prada haversack.

Sharpening the claws

2006-01-19T06:06:00.000+08:00

This is how he keeps his nails sharp.

Run, Rebel, Run!

2006-01-18T06:14:00.000+08:00

“Rebel gained weight, huh.”

Or so says one too many readers of this blog. It did not affect me when I had to loosen up a notch on Rebel’s niggerlike collar. But this, whoa, it’s as bad as telling me that I myself have gained weight.

Feeling disturbed by Rebel’s perceived less-than-perfect body; I decided to take him out for a run last evening. Yes, a run. Not an implausible evening stroll your average plump flower-prints-shorts clad auntie may take with her equally obese bulldog*, but a REAL run that probably clocks decent time in a 100m dash.

Almost immediately after I got home, I took Rebel out without even bothering with a change of clothes. So there I was, running like a crazy woman in her baby blue Ralph Lauren shirt and her 517 jeans. Rebel ran almost as fast as I did. Mind you, I was the fastest sprinter back in those days of track and field. So yes, Rebel ran considerably fast for a Chihuahua.

I can’t help but notice Rebel’s growing change in behaviour. When he first got here, he was an anti-social and a complete introvert. Now, he’s either busy humping my dad’s hairy leg or attempting to start a chase with a stranger (now that almost happened a few times last evening if not for my presence). He is able to jump up the sofa these days, and his bark is increasingly sounding more and more like an adult Chihuahua. Aww. My son’s becoming a man.

Here’s a picture of him at 2 months’ old – the same picture that prompted JJ to get Rebel for me.

I wanted to take him out for another run this evening, but then it started raining. So I got him 3 variants of bones instead. They’re not fattening are they? Someone please let me know. He’s now chewing a Japanese one as we speak.

Oh by the way, can someone tell me why everything Japanese is so bloody expensive? Heck, the next time I launch my own product, Imma make sure the packaging is in Japanese.

5am madness

2006-01-17T01:38:00.000+08:00

That idiot woke up at 5:30am and insisted that I play with him. I tried throwing him out of my room but that didn't work. He wailed like a werewolf under a full moon. Now I'm dead tired and I wanna go home.

Bugger. Now I know how my mum probably felt when I was a baby.

Nailing it.

2006-01-16T06:56:00.000+08:00

The first thing I did when I returned home from KL (thanks Gen, for getting us home in just over 3 hours!) was to give Rebel a nice hot shower. Man, he smelt like an entire team of football players after a match. Rebel hates showers, ear cleaning, teeth wiping and the grooming part he probably loathe the most would be nail cutting. And you know what, mummy hates it as much as he does. I've mentioned in Royal Artillery how much I fear nail cutting for dogs. For no apparent reason this evening, I decided to face my fear and nail those 20 irritatingly long nails once and for all.

I first attempted to cut his nails with him on my floor. That didn't quite work. He was struggling too much. Then I did it the local breeder way - having him sit on my lap. That worked until the 5th nail, when he lost his patience and started struggling again.

30 minutes later, all I got was 4 nails? I didn't wanna give up, so this time, I brought him on my bed. And this is what happened.

The stubborn bull didn't wanna let me cut his nails. And decided to tuck his head into a very private, enclosed area for comfort (yes I know how gross this looks).

Then finally, I got him in his Sleeping Beauty position.

Soon, he was really comfortable.

And before you know it, I got ALL 20 nails cut. I repeat, ALL TWENTY NAILS CUT.

Damn I'm so bloody proud of myself. And yes, Rebel's now asleep.

P.S. It wasn't all that perfect. I caused a nail to bleed, but the brave one he is, never even move an inch. Attaboy.

Catch me if you can!

2006-01-12T08:01:00.000+08:00

He invented a new game to play with me last evening. Firstly, he would coyly hold his milky bone between his pearly whites. Then he'd shift his head a tad to the right, almost saying "C'mon sister, bring it on". Before you know it, I'm out and about, chasing him all over our apartment. That, my friend, is called Catch me if you can. Sad to say, I have yet to be able to catch him. Yes, that's right, I run slower than a freaking Chihuahua.

Here's him, chewing on his soggy bone. I'm thankful for my 15x optical cum digital zoom on my trusty Canon Powershot camera. I can never get that close to him without him running away with his milky bone lingering at the ends of his mouth like a cigarette.

I bought Rebel a super gay red tanktop by Adidog (haha) last week. He's probably a Size 2, but a gay dog has to live up to his name, right? I got him a Size 1 instead to ensure that his puny lil muscles buldge out nicely out of the tanktop. Nice anot? Nice right? I also say. And yet I had issues with my mum buying him pink towels for blankets. Pink! What the hell was my mum thinking!?

And this is him, 5 minutes ago, wondering what the hell mummy's doing online.

Imma miss him so much when I make my trip to KL this Saturday. Well he'd forgive me. Mummy's got to have some fun with her friends. Maybe they'd sell cheaper gay tanktops for dogs in Ringgit.

Royal Artillery

2006-01-09T21:43:00.000+08:00

Rebel's Royal Artillery set was strategically located at various touchpoints of the living room when I got home late last night. "He brought all these out from the bedroom?" I questioned my Queen (aka mummy). "Ya." was her monotunous reply.

Rebel keeps himself occupied for most of the day that I'm out at work. With at least 10 hours of absence each day, he's got to find something to do besides taking really long afternoon naps. Bringing him over to the local breeder's place was great. Unfortunately, he didn't get to meet his brother, but hey, he got a pedicure. Ever since I caused Jesses' nail to bleed attempting to cut her nails, I've induced a phobia against nail cutting for dogs. It's just plain scary how much blood can ooze out from that little nail, you know? Anyway, Rebel was a pretty obedient boy that day. I watched him marked his terrority dutifully like a Royal Prince in front of a real show dog. Usually, he just pees like a girl. No lifting the leg up or anything, just sissy squating. After his pedicure session, we hung out at JJ's place. Believe this or not, Rebel did his business on the newspapers as told - without needing a familiar scent.

He tasted his first gourmet wet dog food today for breakfast. Beef & liver delicacy served 3 hours late because dear ol me couldn't bring myself to wake up in time. Well, I'm sure it was worth the wait.

Yes, I'm the one who has to bring his artillery back into the room.

He got it!

2006-01-07T19:22:00.000+08:00

Remember how I've previously mentioned in my post Mummy's gotta work that Rebel didn't get the logic behind using my designer stool as a platform to get on my bed? Well, he finally got it today. Woo-hoo! Now he's happily jumping on my bed as and when he wants. But he's pretty obedient though. He won't let himself on the bed until I say so. Typically, he'd wait on the stool for my green light. Attaboy.

I'm going to bring him to see his brother today. They haven't met since I took him away on 23 December. I bet it'd be emotional...Wish me luck.

The Thong Dog

2006-01-06T21:22:00.000+08:00

Every morning, I'd retrieve my lingerie from the drawer below my bed, and without fail, The Thong Dog would stick his head in to pick a thong to chew. Sometimes he'd end up with an ugly not-to-be-seen-in-public-at-all-costs granny underwear, but its mostly thongs.

I haven't been in my best emotional health lately (reason I shall not disclose here) and last night, Rebel made me angry when he won't stop biting my hands. I know it's harder for a dog to "unlearn" but I'm getting sick of his fiesty bites, really. He was acting like a spoilt brat, yapping for attention. So finally, I grabbed a old magazine and roll it up... I didn't hit him of cos, but I whacked the magazine hard against the floor and that was that. He cried. Someone else cried too. If something needs to be done, it will be done. I couldn't help thinking of how I used to do the magazine-thing with Jesse. Trust me, my heart ached and aches each time I get disciplinary. I wish I don't have to do so... but you can't rationalise with a dog in words, can you?

He got into trouble with me this morning again when he peed in my room. MY voice thundered thru my neighbourhood and he looked so sorry. I guess I know how my mum felt when she was bringing me up. You get constantly told by people who do not have kids how to educate your kid, you get told not to do this, not to do that, and frankly, I'm just going to do what my mum has done - believe in myself.

I really love Rebel and I'd do anything for him. Yet, he's beginning to affect my personal life and I won't pretend it's easy to cope with the changes. Jesse was a companion. Rebel's a son. There is a difference and I'm still learning.

And yes, I'm still an emotional wheck right now. Don't ask why. Your enquiry will not be entertained.

Boobs for pillow

2006-01-05T08:02:00.000+08:00

I allowed Rebel to sleep on my bed last night because I've missed him too much.

In the middle of the night however, I woke up abruptly, to the sneeze coming out from Rebel's little wet nose. It was then I realised that that smartass bugger had somehow managed to snuggle himself underneathe the big t-shirt I was wearing to keep himself warm! Subconsciously, I was spooning him the entire night whilst he had his face safely tucked between my soft, supple, white ber-dang-dangs.

Jesus Christ, that sounds so wrong doesn't it?

And yes, my ber-dang-dangs had his wet boogy on them.

P.S. Check out this picture - my mum was nagging at my dad while Rebel looked on. Heh.

Mummy's gotta work

2006-01-04T08:24:00.000+08:00

Going back to work this week has been tough. As silly as it probably sounds, I painfully drag my heavy feet out of home each morning to work, refusing to part with Rebel. You should see those puppy eyes of his. I just wanna stay home and play with him all day and not have to go to work! But then again, someone's gotta pay for his super premium dog food and pedicure. Urgh.

I admit I've been spoiling Rebel silly. He's teething now, so he loves to nibble on my fingers, which I gladly obliged. But his nibbles are increasingly turning into fiesty bites and they are starting to hurt. At this point, one might like to add a voiceover of JJ's saying, "See I told you so! Stop letting him chew on your fingers!". Heh. But we're just playing what... Mind you, I whacked him just this morning for shitting on the living room carpet. I didn't get it - why he'd pee on the newspapers, but shit on the carpet instead? But he got it from me alright.

I brought back a designer stool I've had at work (as inherited from Daddy Ham when he left the company) this evening. The intention was to enable Rebel to climb upon my bed with the stool serving like a platform, but unfortunately, that dumbass didn't get the logic. I tried demostrating, but felt like a complete idiot 5 minutes later when he turned to watch TV instead. Maybe he'd get it soon. He better. He's a chihuahua. Aren't they supposed to be smart?

Sleepy Head Part 2

2006-01-02T09:28:00.000+08:00

There is something so peaceful about watching him sleep.

Sleepy Head

2006-01-01T21:05:00.000+08:00

Don't even think about disturbing the Prince when he is asleep.

Happy New Year!

2005-12-31T02:43:00.000+08:00

Curiousity kills the dog

2005-12-30T21:57:00.000+08:00

He snored so loud last night that I could hardly even sleep. And mind you, I'm known to be able to sleep at the worst of all conditions, even with a burning fire above my head (as confirmed by my parents when I was 9 when they were busy trying to put out the buring air conditioner whilst I slept thru). So trust me when I say Rebel snores really loud.

Being the curious puppy that he is, Rebel wants to know everything and anything! He climbs on every single piece of furniture, from sniffing my shit in the toilet bowl to sticking his head into my coffee mug, to the inside of my motorbike helmet... I'm surprised he hasn't tried to smoke a stick from my cigarette pack yet.

I gave him a shower this morning. Twice a week, that's Rebel's level of hygiene. I noticed earlier when I was showering him that his left ball is bigger than his right one. Is that normal? And I found out that he has 5 nipples. Not 4, not 6, but 5?! Are odd numbers normal?

Hmmm. So much to learn about Rebel. Like how he can let out a fart so lethal, it'd kill the entire civilization in Singapore.

Like the Owner

2005-12-29T19:45:00.000+08:00

Rebel snores... like really fucking loud. Its as though he has a 20-man living orchestra in his puny lungs.

Ctrl + V

2005-12-29T07:27:00.000+08:00

I left Rebel on my desk where my laptop is... and on JJ's MSN window, he managed to type "Ctrl" + "V" by stepping all over my keyboard.

Now that is a first.

Just Chew It

2005-12-26T20:03:00.000+08:00

Since he's teething, Rebel has been chewing just about everything he can get hold of. And that includes his newest possession; my baby nike shoe.

He would bite on an item, and then drag it into his self-declared castle (aka his gay-pink bed). At the rate he's going, I doubt there would be space for him to sleep on anymore.

Shitting Right

2005-12-26T02:14:00.000+08:00

Rebel finally learnt to shit on the newspapers today. Most of the time, he was more interested in looking for a job in the Recruit page.

Damn, I'm really happy.

Rebel for Xmas

2005-12-25T18:08:00.000+08:00

He came into my life offically on 23rd December, Friday, 2005. On Wednesday, I met JJ after scheduling my surgery at the Clinic. I was pretty relunctant in meeting her, considering that I still had tons of paintings to paint for Xmas. But still I did. And I'm glad I did.

She brought me to this bungalow along the main roads of Seng Kang. Upon getting there, I smelt something something familiar. Dogs. My previous Chihuahua, Jesse, had that distinct scent too. Before I know it, I was greeted by a local breeder, and I realised what my Xmas present from JJ was gonna be - a cute little Chihuahua.

I fell in love with Rebel the first time I held him in my arms. He nibbled on my hand and as tempermental as Chihuahuas are notorious to be, he was incredibly friendly.

It has not been easy for me to get over the death of Jesse. There were nights when I would break down, just thinking of the little things she used to do. It's not going to be easy now neither. Rebel resembles Jesse so much, I even called the wrong name out. Some things will change though. I will not take Rebel for granted the way I have selfishly done so to Jesse.