Animals are fluffy, cute and adorable....until they grow up. I may be wrong, but after the many experiences with animals in my life, I've come to fear a lot of them. I don't mind puppies, kittens and babies. They're the best companions ever, until they grow up and start biting, scratching......or talking, as the case may be. But I can't exactly complain since I'm part dog myself.
In case you are trying to figure out what I meant by the previous statement, I shall try and clarify. Ever since my childhood, Í have had certain qualities that can only be described as being animalistic, or more specifically, canine. My first tooth to fall out was my canine and when it grew back, it had a surprising sharpness to it. Combined with my tendency to tear at food instinctively and carry random things in my mouth over my hands, anyone would have questioned my humanity, so to speak. But I always found it very hard to deny instinctual responses. As I grew up, I began to realise I had inherited two of my mother's most distinctive features which had been refined and converted to the canine cause: a keener-than-usual sense of hearing and the need to sniff things even before seeing them, be it food,a room or even my own father. Working out that I had certain nasal tendencies, I honed them to such an extent that I was able to tell what went into a dish just by sniffing it (although living through many of my dad's experiments and living in a house that always had something cooking helped a lot). An unfortunate consequence of this training, however, is my inexplicable need to smell the lid of the container the food is stored in instead of the food item itself.
As the years went on, so did the many other discoveries about my person. I learnt that I felt a warm glow of happiness whenever someone stroked my head (which surprisingly took long enough to realise, seeing as my mom did it to make me go to sleep when I was young), that I loved running at great speeds for absolutely no reason that I felt supreme joy upon doing so and that I whined whenever I felt sad. My moods too began to swing often and I finally found what gave me the best feeling in the world: making others smile and brightening their day, despite the cost to mine. A very simple idea to live by and I'm proud to say I've not faltered too many times.
Despite this, I find it difficult to interact with other full members of the canine species. But I've slowly begun to inch towards learning to get over my fear since I own the neighbour's dog. Strange as that sentence seems, it is the only way to describe the equation I share with Mickey, the dog mentioned. A low whistle, given in my own awkward manner is enough to make him come running no matter where he may be. I'm glad to say that my fear has greatly reduced. I wonder what other surprises are in store for me in this 'doggy-dog' world of ours...
Çiao!
In case you are trying to figure out what I meant by the previous statement, I shall try and clarify. Ever since my childhood, Í have had certain qualities that can only be described as being animalistic, or more specifically, canine. My first tooth to fall out was my canine and when it grew back, it had a surprising sharpness to it. Combined with my tendency to tear at food instinctively and carry random things in my mouth over my hands, anyone would have questioned my humanity, so to speak. But I always found it very hard to deny instinctual responses. As I grew up, I began to realise I had inherited two of my mother's most distinctive features which had been refined and converted to the canine cause: a keener-than-usual sense of hearing and the need to sniff things even before seeing them, be it food,a room or even my own father. Working out that I had certain nasal tendencies, I honed them to such an extent that I was able to tell what went into a dish just by sniffing it (although living through many of my dad's experiments and living in a house that always had something cooking helped a lot). An unfortunate consequence of this training, however, is my inexplicable need to smell the lid of the container the food is stored in instead of the food item itself.
As the years went on, so did the many other discoveries about my person. I learnt that I felt a warm glow of happiness whenever someone stroked my head (which surprisingly took long enough to realise, seeing as my mom did it to make me go to sleep when I was young), that I loved running at great speeds for absolutely no reason that I felt supreme joy upon doing so and that I whined whenever I felt sad. My moods too began to swing often and I finally found what gave me the best feeling in the world: making others smile and brightening their day, despite the cost to mine. A very simple idea to live by and I'm proud to say I've not faltered too many times.
Despite this, I find it difficult to interact with other full members of the canine species. But I've slowly begun to inch towards learning to get over my fear since I own the neighbour's dog. Strange as that sentence seems, it is the only way to describe the equation I share with Mickey, the dog mentioned. A low whistle, given in my own awkward manner is enough to make him come running no matter where he may be. I'm glad to say that my fear has greatly reduced. I wonder what other surprises are in store for me in this 'doggy-dog' world of ours...
Çiao!
Puppies, Kittens and babies! Spank-licious, and very deserving too.
ReplyDelete