His fuzziness
Listening to: Believe, Smashing Pumpkins
Thinking of:
Barkley, a yellow Labrador born on 23 December was always a happy dog. His antiques thrilled the household with his display of crude but stylish canine brand of charm, wit and ability.
A keen connoisseur of treats and nibbles, he had a selection of vintage favorites. Never one to be seen with a dirty paw near his food, he's developed a fine habit of washing his paws and slicking back his fuzz after a walk. A lounge in the garden or by the bowl side before dinner suited him fine, a fine aperitif in the form of water never leaves his side.
He oozes style for the way he carries himself, prosperous yet eager for walks. Each evening he'd summon his servants for a walk around the kingdom of Barkley, shameless coveting and marking his territory, fending it away from his enemies... ie. other dogs, monkeys and his nemesis... CATS! An eager sportsdog, he chases the latter for sport, his triumphs include the quick coconut tree climb (at the Nambiars), under the car chase, and the classic, "Jump into the drain pursuit". His affinity for great sports as such is displayed in competitive nature by several sniffs, and sand kicking. Never at any time during this, is any of his servants allowed ahead of him. He has to be the head of his entourage.
A well schooled puppy, in the arts of social etiquette, he was thought at the great fields of Jalan 222. Exhibiting the graciousness of his fuzziness, he's made friends with his other puppy friends and exchanging sniffs at most appropriate of times. His courageousness was identified earlier on, taking on an evil Rottweiler with a swipe on the nose at a gentle age of 6 months, or so. Taking him there is his fleet of cars and SUVS.
But in all seriousness, Barkley was the most genial dog, a great companion in many many ways and a born entertainer. I remember picking him up from the kennel the first time and knowing I had to have this puppy full of mischief. As it turns out, I actually made the right choice. Ever curious and so silly in his escapades,he's found favor among the folk along my end of the street and friends and family. One who is gregarious, yet displays a classic "the grass is greener on the other side" character, always wanting what he cannot have. I'm immensely proud of him, for he's shown so much strength and courage fighting for so many months, and honored that he'd grace me with a little bit more than a wag even in his most painful hours. I will remember his intelligence, washing his paws after digging through the flower patch, only forgetting about his nose. Renovating his kennel by himself, a whole basement in fact! It'll be so quiet without you. Walking past any window, door or fence would now be so quiet and uncharacteristic. No more can I sit down on the grass, reading the newspaper after taking you for your morning walks, with you of course insisting that you want the comics section, slobbering all over it. No more can I spoil you with treats and toys. When I'm feeling blue, no more do I have a friend who'd still think he's a puppy insisting on sitting on my lap, the fuzziness in itself calming. I can't chase you around the garden trying to get the wayward sock out of you. Or have you wash the lower parts of my car for me. I'll miss chasing cats with you and your giant smile during walks, your competitiveness to be ahead of all else. I'll miss how you're afraid of lightning. I'll miss the time how you got your first ball, barking at it, amused. Or the first day you stepped into our lives jumping over the side drain, being amused just by it. You learnt so much so fast, how to open the fence latch, turn on taps and most importantly, tactics to get more treats. Dare I say I love you fuzzy buddy, I'm sorry I can't make it back in time, I really am. I miss giving you a hug and giving you rub downs, I believe it's more therapeutic for me than it was for you. Thank you for all the moments and memories, thanks for being you... you fought hard and brave, a valiant run. It's a pity it had to be you... goodbye fuzzy buddy. I miss you so.
Thinking of:
Barkley, a yellow Labrador born on 23 December was always a happy dog. His antiques thrilled the household with his display of crude but stylish canine brand of charm, wit and ability.
A keen connoisseur of treats and nibbles, he had a selection of vintage favorites. Never one to be seen with a dirty paw near his food, he's developed a fine habit of washing his paws and slicking back his fuzz after a walk. A lounge in the garden or by the bowl side before dinner suited him fine, a fine aperitif in the form of water never leaves his side.
He oozes style for the way he carries himself, prosperous yet eager for walks. Each evening he'd summon his servants for a walk around the kingdom of Barkley, shameless coveting and marking his territory, fending it away from his enemies... ie. other dogs, monkeys and his nemesis... CATS! An eager sportsdog, he chases the latter for sport, his triumphs include the quick coconut tree climb (at the Nambiars), under the car chase, and the classic, "Jump into the drain pursuit". His affinity for great sports as such is displayed in competitive nature by several sniffs, and sand kicking. Never at any time during this, is any of his servants allowed ahead of him. He has to be the head of his entourage.
A well schooled puppy, in the arts of social etiquette, he was thought at the great fields of Jalan 222. Exhibiting the graciousness of his fuzziness, he's made friends with his other puppy friends and exchanging sniffs at most appropriate of times. His courageousness was identified earlier on, taking on an evil Rottweiler with a swipe on the nose at a gentle age of 6 months, or so. Taking him there is his fleet of cars and SUVS.
But in all seriousness, Barkley was the most genial dog, a great companion in many many ways and a born entertainer. I remember picking him up from the kennel the first time and knowing I had to have this puppy full of mischief. As it turns out, I actually made the right choice. Ever curious and so silly in his escapades,he's found favor among the folk along my end of the street and friends and family. One who is gregarious, yet displays a classic "the grass is greener on the other side" character, always wanting what he cannot have. I'm immensely proud of him, for he's shown so much strength and courage fighting for so many months, and honored that he'd grace me with a little bit more than a wag even in his most painful hours. I will remember his intelligence, washing his paws after digging through the flower patch, only forgetting about his nose. Renovating his kennel by himself, a whole basement in fact! It'll be so quiet without you. Walking past any window, door or fence would now be so quiet and uncharacteristic. No more can I sit down on the grass, reading the newspaper after taking you for your morning walks, with you of course insisting that you want the comics section, slobbering all over it. No more can I spoil you with treats and toys. When I'm feeling blue, no more do I have a friend who'd still think he's a puppy insisting on sitting on my lap, the fuzziness in itself calming. I can't chase you around the garden trying to get the wayward sock out of you. Or have you wash the lower parts of my car for me. I'll miss chasing cats with you and your giant smile during walks, your competitiveness to be ahead of all else. I'll miss how you're afraid of lightning. I'll miss the time how you got your first ball, barking at it, amused. Or the first day you stepped into our lives jumping over the side drain, being amused just by it. You learnt so much so fast, how to open the fence latch, turn on taps and most importantly, tactics to get more treats. Dare I say I love you fuzzy buddy, I'm sorry I can't make it back in time, I really am. I miss giving you a hug and giving you rub downs, I believe it's more therapeutic for me than it was for you. Thank you for all the moments and memories, thanks for being you... you fought hard and brave, a valiant run. It's a pity it had to be you... goodbye fuzzy buddy. I miss you so.
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