Blackie - my Dog (July 2000 - December 8, 2002)

There is nothing as painful for a pet lover than the death of a pet. Seven years has passed since he passed away yet when I think of him, he lives strong in my memory as if he were still alive.

Blackie the dog's (as I also had Blackie the cat) life is more than memorable as I was able to experience first hand, the growth of a dog who lived in fear but who was willing to come out of his shell and live life again.

Blackie came to me in June 2002 by accident. I never meant to have him. But I guess you could call it a criss crossing of paths that I have never regretted. Michelle, a childhood friend of mine had an uncle who had scores of dogs. I think he had about 8 of them and could barely take care of them so he had them in cages or tied up.

Blackie was a handful actually and so he approached Michelle to ask if she could take charge of him. Michelle was hesitant. But I was there and volunteered right off to care for him. It wasn't love at first sight mind you. Blackie looked malnourished even if he had a big appetite. He also distrusted people. I think he spent most of his life tied up thus, he didn't really like to be handled more than necessary.

I was out of school and out of work at the time and thought I had all the time in the world to get to know him. I had no grand plans for him. My self imposed rule is that I never chain my pets or keep them in a cage. As long as they live with me, they are free to roam the house and use all that are available to them (like my furniture).

The first 3 months with Blackie were excruciating. Neither of us knew what the other would do. He was like a wild dog so I had to chain him to one of the posts outside our apartment. I hated it and it pained me to do so. But it was either that or he would have bitten all my other pets. Between Michelle and I - we had about 2 dogs and 5 or 6 other cats. He went wild when it was mealtime, straining on his chain and barking ferociously so I did not even try to get too near him lest he bite me.

But patience does have its fruits. During those first few weeks I would push his dog dishes towards him with a stick. By the 3rd week, I felt it was time for him to learn who his boss really was so I talked to him, calming him when he would strain against his chain trying to grab his dog dish. I was okay with getting nearer to him as I could. At the time, I thought that I could bear a dog bite better than not having a dog trust me. When he had calmed down reasonably then I handed him his dish, setting it down right in front of him without a stick. Battle #1 won!

By the 3rd week, he had gotten used to seeing me around him so I could now untie his chain and take him for walks. He was rowdy at first just like any human I think would be after being in seclusion for so long. We must have been a sight as he pulled me this way and that. But I was stronger than him not just physically but because something inside me just didn't want to give up.

The second challenge was for me to bathe him. During the first 2 weeks, giving him a bath was a big chore nonetheless as he got me all wet with his hyperactiveness. I was glad he never thought to take a chunk out of my hand. To prevent him from drenching me too much I preferred to point the end of the garden hose at his body.
By the 3rd week he was less rowdy and allowed me to clean his ears, pick at any ticks and brush his fur. His meals were personally mine to serve. I had made it my job to hand feed him his kibbles..a kibble at a time, a bit of trust after another. Soon he was eating out of my hand with ease and always nosed my hand for more.

I was ready for the next stage. Trust, they say is something you earn. After all the daily walks, grooming and feeding we did, I was ready. Next step was for me to untie him. This I did every night. After his baths and walks during the day, nights were freedom time for him. I remember the first time I let him go. He still stood close to the post as if he were tied. I had to give him a gentle push to let him know he was free. After realizing that he was, he ran furiously to the field near our apartment. I let him have his way. For the first time, I swear I saw him smile. He was happily running and exploring all the nooks and crannies he could - under rocks, under wherever - he wanted to take in all of it. That was the happiest day of my life as a dog caregiver. I say a dog caregiver as I believe that pets choose who they want to be with. They are our blessings more than they are trouble.
When there was no longer any light, I called for him to come home - and he did. He was happily wagging his tail as he came home and waited for me to chain him to the post. He wasn't ready for my next treat. I decided he could stay in the house but only in my room. So every night thereafter - he went straight to my room to his place under my bed.

I think after those 3 excruciating months, Blackie finally figured out that I was there to care for him and to love him. His days of being a prisoner were over. He loved being under my bed at night. His morning routine from his 4th month with me was to wake me up at around 7 am by licking my hand. This was as much a reward for me as a morning romp outside was for him. By that time, he was open to my carresses, offered his neck for a rub and especially loved it when I talked to him just like I did all of my other pets.

I no longer needed to chain him nor did he go after any of my other pets. He still didn't socialize with them but would rather just be in one corner of the house. I was okay with it. By October I was going to school for special classes. I would leave all my pets at home including Blackie. Afternoons at 4 was happy time for all. I came home to a house full of animals wagging their tails, crying for my attention, crying for their food, excited for me to take them out for a walk, excited for their baths or their grooming time. This was a routine I loved.

I was at home by 4pm, took Greg and Cop for a romp outside for at least half an hour, took the cats outside too while Blackie stayed home to wait, prepared their dinner and served it, got out their hair brushes, brushed and took out their ticks. What more could a pet ever want? Last was always Blackie. Most of my energy was reserved for him as I spent more time with him during his walks, I sometimes played hide and seek with him, dinner was served separately and grooming was the most special time of the day for me. It was my time not just to keep him clean but it was also my time to talk to him and praise him for being a good dog. Weekends was bath time for all including the cats.

By November, Blackie had settled in comfortably. He was still scared of meeting people and didn't like it if there was a stranger (other friends) in the house. December 7 is a day I will never forget. I came home as usual from school. For some reason, Blackie was outside the apartment waiting for me. The moment he glimpsed me through the gated fence of the compound, he could not contain himself. For the first time, he vigorously wagged his tail, jumped up and down just like my other dogs, greeted me with such a big smile. I couldn't put my finger in it then but only figured it out what it really meant a day or 2 after. How was I to know it was going to be his first and last time to do that. We had a great time that evening as he was hesitant to go home and still wanted to play "catch me if you can" out in the field. But it was getting really dark.

I came home from school the next day anticipating the next joyful homecoming with him. It was Friday or a Saturday I think. On my way in to the compound, a neighbor tells me, 'hey, your black dog is inside.' I said, 'thanks." Imagine my surprise when he brought my precious Blackie outside carrying him by his tail. That's when it struck me he was dead. A hit and run accident my neighbor said.

A dog is still a dog they say. But how can I make people understand the pain you experience when a dog close to your heart dies. I had a lot of pets who passed away and had never before grieved as much as I did when Blackie died. I spent 2 weeks crying. Every corner of the house reminded me of him. Night time was the worst. I woke up expecting him to lick my hand the way he did every single day but of course no dog did. I kept thinking to myself what it was that made him different. Was it because we were just about to enter that phase in which I believe our souls would be entwined?

In almost 6 months he had changed so much more than a person will ever change in a lifetime. He was open to trust, he was open to love and loved in return. It only takes a few words of comfort, a loving touch for a dog to forgive. In his eyes, I saw a wealth of forgiveness. I believe that his passing was instantaneous and that the only memories he had was a joyful romp in the fields, endless games of "catch me if you can" a bowl full of kibbles, and a warm bed under mine. He is smiling down I am sure in doggy heaven. That is the picture of him I hold in my heart, a happy dog, wagging his tail ferociously because he is just that - happy.

*** I was never able to take a picture of him. But the picture above is the closest I can get of him.

Musings on the Road not Taken by Robert Frost

This poem has always been one of my favorites. More so now that the underlying message holds true value for me. I was in 4th year High School. I can still recall how Mrs. Mary Anne Eala (everyone's fave English Teacher) nurtured our love of literature.

*****************************************
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim
Because it was grassy and wanted wear,
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I marked the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
*************************************

This has a lot of significance for me because that's what I did. I took the road less travelled. In this culture where most would rather stay at home and enjoy the comforts of having free food, free lodging, etc. I chose to live on my own at 21. 13 years later, I still have no regrets. It has not always been easy.

When I look back at how difficult it was and how I had to rely on my friends for help I cannot help but be humbled. This is what keeps me content. When at times I feel that I need more, that I am discontented with my lot in life, I look back to the time I left home with almost nothing except my clothes, my bit of cash and no idea of where to stay. Stubborness does have its rewards. If I would be given the chance, I would have done it all over again.

Heat-Shangri-la Edsa Manila

Talk about a good way to spend our Christmas bonus. This is what my friends and I did on December 19, 2009. We treated ourselves to the sumptuous buffet offered by Heat, Shangri-la Edsa Manila. Heat offers a range of Asian and Continental dishes that vary from time to time. Below are just a few of the dishes that were offered.

Main Dishes:
Beer-battered deep-fried Seabass served with Caper and Gherkin Mayonnaise Salmon Fillet with choice of Garlic Mash and Steamed Rice, Local Greens and Bearnaise, Pepper or Red Wine sauce)
Nasi Goring; Spicy Rice with Prawns, Chicken Satay topped with fried egg.

Dessert:
Mango Crepe, Vanilla Pod Sabayon
Chocolate Mudcake, White Chocolate Spear
HEAT’s Cheesecake, Fresh Mango, Raspberry Sauce



We talked over copious amounts of seafood, pasta and other Filipino dishes. In order to savor all the dishes, one has to pace oneself. So we had dinner over 3 hours and still we were not able to consume all that was served.
I especially liked the crabs and shrimp. Being allergic to seafood it was a temptation I could not resist. I was in an “enjoy now and pay later” mode. The dimsum and sushi stations were a constant for me. I had to keep on going back for a bit of sushi or dumpling together with other food I wanted to sample. For the price of about 1,450 pesos I really have to say this was a very good deal. Needless to say, I had stuffed up on the main courses that I had almost no room for dessert. The only one I sampled wasn’t very good. I usually love mango and banana crepes topped with chocolate syrup but this time the crepes were too thick for my taste. It made my tummy even heavier than it already was.
Who am I to complain about the ambiance? It was perfect. The dimly lit restaurant was soothing to the eyes. Who would want to eat in a brightly lit place anyway right? And see you devouring your food like there was no tomorrow? No way! So if I were to rate this place, it would be:

Food: 4.5
Service : 4
Ambiance : 5
Value : 4
Overall Rating: 4

On Mary Poppins

I spent the few hours of my Sunday afternoon watching Mary Poppins. I had always loved this movie as a kid. Until now it still leaves me mesmerized by its magic and then the underlying lesson. I didn’t know until I did a bit of research that there were a series of books that were published in 1934, 1935, 1952 and 1962. I have not come across any book about it and would rather just watch the movie. In the earlier books, Mary Poppins was portrayed as a vain, stern and almost always cross. And who wouldn’t be if you were caring for 4 children. Aside from the rather unwanted attitude, the storyline is still the same in that Mary Poppins and the children go on countless adventures.
In 1964, the version of Mary Poppins starring Julie Andrews and Dick Van Dyke featured an adventure or episode from the earlier novels but portrayed a much kinder nanny.
I didn’t know whether to be sad or not. My neighbor’s kids usually spend Sunday afternoons with me and they did not enjoy the movie in the least. They were rather interested in playing on the computer and playing other games. So there I go thinking to myself just how much things have changed from before. I used to be very happy with a good book. A movie was a treat. But then that’s what happens with change. Everything is fast paced. The kids are so in to technology and by the time they are about 10 years old, blogging would be a thing of the past for them. So I will just content myself with my blog or so called journal. No worries. Sunday will go on and I will relax for the rest of the day.

Clan of the Cave Bear - Book Review by Jean Auel

I came across a comment for Jean's Clan of the Cave Bear where there were a lot of questions about the authenticity of the historical facts she had in the book. It surprised me as the spine of the book clearly states it's a work of fiction. So why all the negative comments?
Personally, I think this book and those that followed may not have done justice to historical facts but it did give light to a lot of facts that are still predominant in a lot of societies today. Like in the case of how most cultures view women and what their roles are in society. It is a beautiful story of one woman's survival to find her own niche.
This is a moving saga about people and relationships. Here, Jean takes as back to prehistoric times and sweeps us up in the story of Ayla. She is left orphaned at 5. Left wandering in search of her parents, she comes across the "clan". She is adopted by Iza, the clan's medicine woman and her brother Creb, the Mogur (Shaman). Though they try their best to teach her their ways, Ayla instinctively knows she is different. In the end of this first of five books, Ayla is banished; taken away from the people she has learned to love, taken away from her son. She must start her own journey to look for her kind.
I would give this book 5 stars for entertainment. It's a long read - 495 pages if you read the soft bound version. But it's definitely a page turner. Breath-taking and definitely entertaining.

Father's Day

A lot of advertisements for Father's Day have been out since a month ago. Some featured June 12. Others featured June 20. After a bit of research I finally figured out that we celebrate Father's Day on the 3rd Sunday of June - so that would be June 20 of this year.
I will not be able to let this day pass without mixed feelings for my dad. He passed away in May of 1998. I had just come home from school and was staying at a friend's house. Someone called to tell me my dad had just had a stroke and was in the hospital. I forget now who called me; whether it was my mom or one of my brothers I don't recall. But that isn't important.
Dad was a lot of things to me. I saw 2 sides of him no one ever saw. One side, the father who was caring, loving, doting, who loved to spend afternoons in the bookstore, loved watching movies, loved classical and jazz, and who loved an early dinner at Mcdonald's or Shakey's or wherever I wanted to eat. The other side, obsessive compulsive with neatness and order and cleanliness, manipulative.
He was very lenient towards me - me and my stubborn ways. I hated him telling me what to do. I was very precise with what he wanted. He bought my clothes. Taught me how to fold them in crisp orderly fashion where the shirts were organized in colors and sizes, my pants all hanging on one side of my cabinet, my shoes lined up like soldiers. Everything had it's place as he would often tell me and would frown if he saw something out of place.
My mom spent the afternoons playing Mahjong with her friends so he says, 'he took the responsibility of teaching me everything I needed to know' He was dead serious about it. The biggest fights I ever had with him were always about my wardrobe. He generally let me have my way with food as I wasn't fond of eating back in the day unless I had Mcdonald's. He dictated what books I read, friends I should be with and who I needed to see and talk with - So I was a kid who was not too good with friends as I knew what he wanted but made my own all the same. So we go back to my wardrobe. Everything had to fit me perfectly. No loose clothes. No tight ones either. Everything had to be ironed right down to my house clothes. He couldn't stand me in wrinkly clothes. He couldn't even stand tiny holes or minute threads sticking out at the seams. Those had to be cut. My clothes starched. If my clothes had a chance - they probably would have stood on their own. If my pants were a bit long, then he had them tailored. My socks had to be a certain length; not too short and not too long either or he had me fold them. So there I was a teenager folding her socks like I was a 3 year old going to a party. How I hated it when he inspected what I wore and hated myself even more for feeling like a turd because I followed what he said all the same. He was even more obsessive compulsive about my underwear. What bra size I wore, what kind of panties. It stressed me to no end. It was not until college that he kind of gave up on me.
Another thing I kind of learned from him was how to do my homework, my projects and to this day, how I organize my files. He was meticulous when it came to filing. All his bills were filed and each had a folder of its own. No paper was out of place. Paper that stuck out was like an eyesore for him so he would line and cut the paper to the precisely desired size. Doing my homework with him could be a torment at times. Everytime I had a project where I needed to cut stuff or write, he always had to dictate how it should be. It would be years later when I learned to cut paper without first having a ruler and lining it. Now, I can cut without worrying about cutting outside the lines or that a mm. of paper would be sticking out. Needless to say all these was stressful.
But at least out of all the "training" I got, he and I were still able to enjoy each other's company. When we weren't arguing or rather when he didn't need to stress a certain point, we kind of enjoyed the movies together. Almost every afternoon during the summers would be rewarding for me. I didn't have to think about my chores, about fixing stamps (that was my dad's past time), didn't have to worry about cleaning and arranging my closets, didn't have to worry about scrubbing the floors or the walls of my room. Movie time was fun time - especially if he slept through the entire thing.
Another thing I enjoyed was when he would take me out for an early dinner. I wasn't fond of eating really. If I didn't see food I didn't look for it unlike now. He was always worried I wasn't getting enough to eat. I guess I never really gained weight when I was in school because of my studies and other activities. So we ate almost anywhere but especially liked Mcdonald's (I am sick of it now) or any place that served Chinese or Japanese food. Sometimes he would feel extra generous especially if I had really good grades and would spend about 1 thousand to 1.5 thousand pesos in a fine dining restaurant. This was back in the early 90's. So that amount was pretty big.
So much so for my interaction with my dad. He was very hands on in many ways. Too much of it in the later years made me uncomfortable really.
One thing he did right was to let me go and allow me to live on my own at 21. After years of being with him - it was kind of a relief to finally be on my own and decide what I wanted to be. No regrets on my part to this day. Much of his training paid off. I no longer fold my clothes in the fashion he wanted me to. But all other else - I keep organized in an unstressful fashion. My house is not a pigsty (and never will look like one) but it is inviting. A little of mess, no dirt (If I can help it) and just looks like a home of any single woman (won't be one soon hopefully so ahem ahem Tom).
So a Happy Father's Day to all the fathers out there. I could go on and on about a lot of things and would probably fill this whole blog spot with stories of him. But that will come in time.

I thought I was ready for a good night's sleep. Unfortunately, I had spent a good part of the afternoon and a few hours of my evening asleep plus I was thinking of a lot of stuff.

New at blogging - yeah! So my mind has been a tumble of ideas which I hope I can write about as time goes on. Anways, this is my little room - all spic and span and actually boring. I am thinking of maybe changing this to a light lime green color or may be a shade of yellow that would fit perfectly with my zen interior.

I did a couple of hours or so of cleaning the windows, laundering the curtains and scrubbing and cleaning a portion of the floor. My idea of cleaning is literally getting down on my hands and knees and scrubbing the floors with soap and then wiping them clean. So it was down on my knees for those couple of so hours. But then with age comes the back pains so I decided to rest a bit. I am now feeling a bit sleepy so I won't really push myself. A few more hours anyways and it will be morning.