a moment of silence

 

Cooper has been very lethargic lately, refusing to get up to apart from having his dinner or answering nature’s call. We realised that it was in fact because he has been unable to get up. A trip to the vet gave the diagnostic to be that he probably has a dislocated shoulder, we were then referred another vet for an x-ray. he was given a sedative and pain killers to tide him through the night.

when i got home, i realised he was awake but could not move, so i went to sit by him to just stroke his head and pulled him onto my lap and let him rest, like we used to do when he was a wee little baby. he fell asleep in no time, and i went to bed and came down to check on him every 2 hours, repeating the same procedures.

the x-ray came out that there was no dislocated shoulder, which begs the question, why can’t he get up. after a 3 hour wait and further testing, it was ascertained that cooper in fact was paralysed on his right side (his hind leg lost all reflex and feeling by the morning).

he had a nerve dysfunction, which resulted in the paralysis on the right side of the body. we also ascertained that it was a spinal pressure on his nerves. this would be caused by a clot, a growth or cancer. to find out which was to put him through very tedious and painful procedures.

regardless of the cause, we also realised that the only way out was surgery, which is not only very painful, but also means he would be paralysed for at least 6 months with only a 20% chance of recovery. 

i made the decision to put him to sleep yesterday, under the vet’s advice.

i called my sisters who came down to say goodbye; ruby and the pea were also in attendance. had wanted to drive home to pick mango because i thought cooper would have most wanted her around, but cooper’s weak resistance lately resulted in him catching a contagious virus which though not life threatening in anyway, needed his isolation from other canines.

it was emotional and heart-breaking, but certainly peaceful. we had opted to sedate him first, then administer the euthanasia. he was resting his head on my lap, and then quietly he slipped away. 

Cooper

 2 and 1/2 years old, German Shepherd

Much beloved, and will be sorely Missed.

 

 

always two sides to the coin

i’m always ending up the bad guy, the emotional childish one that explodes all over the place, these childishly annoying uncalled for actions which somehow at that time, feels to me like the only thing i could and would do.

then i see it happening in my head and before i know it, something about that image just propels me forwards. truly the lack of control on my part.

but how the feelings behind it childish?

dear little bird

you know, sometimes i find your interference just so fucking annoying. 

don’t you have problems of your own, to bother about mine?

fights and naps

so the pea and i are at pseudo war today; which i must admit was largely started by me, compounded by the presence of a headache (which seems to have permanently lodged itself in my head; like a bullet), and understandably i am being unreasonable, but in this moment i want my way.

today someone asked me about my sister. what does she do. i do not know. in many ways, maybe she does not want me to know. i do not know. where does she live. i do not know. how can i not know. i do not know la.

liliac sky

2 am, last night, being unable to get to sleep despite the incredibly long day and the frustrations of having driven–literally from one end of singapore to the other ends and back, i tried mobile blogging which did not work; not in the least.

this week a friend asks, if i have closed my blog cos i stopped posting. and how this platform is the only way she gets updated on my life and goings on, because, and she is right, i am all over the place and never stopping.

this girl has started her own company, and it is officially about 1 month and a half old. i’ve get to figure out cpf contributions so kind souls in pwc/kpmg/ey please advice. i deal daily with my own accounts and ledgers; my suppliers; my staff (yes, i do have staff–10 of them!); and my trusty little bug of a rush has been hard pushed these days driving to pretty god-forsaken places in the middle of the bloody cemetery.i work predominantly in a male environment, a young girl playing a big boy’s game– not much fun, alot of looks (looks are free afterall) just as there are alot of sneering, particularly if you have problems parallel parking.

its been a whirlwind, and i can only apologise if i have neglected many of you, esp those near and dear to me. i’m sorry i have not been around to hear your “first week of work” stories or even the stories you can only share after drinks or dinner or during a long girly catch up. i can only ask for your patience. it has been crazy, crazy, crazy. fun, but definately crazy crazy crazy. odd though, i am happy. happier than i was in the old company; happier than i was in school; happier than i was with accounts! (haha, then again, not hard to be)

still around! promise!

whispers in the wind

when i turned 18, a very very dear friend of mine gave me a crazy looking pink-with-green-pokka-dots dinosaur that he’s had since he was a child. i kept it, and slept with it for maybe a good year, until my sister told me, it probably has 18 years worth of bedbugs and dustmites. it was then relegated to a corner of my room, and subsequently into a plastic bag into the cupboard. and like all things during the big house overhaul a few months back, this crazy-falling-apart-with-eyes-in-different-direction dinosaur disappeared into a packing box, somewhere, and i don’t know where to begin looking for it.

i wonder if i returned it to him, like i told myself i would.

like the dinosaur, i have lost track of this friend of mine. he was very dear to me, at a stage of my life, i believe i called him best friend for a while. i cannot pin point when this particular time was: was it when he was in the army? no, too late. 16? no we were still part of a bigger group. 17? after adriel and i fell out, around the time of church camp? 18? no, ryan wouldn’t have stood for it. 19? back to the army argument, no too late. i cannot remember, dear heart, i do not remember, but i do remember this period existed. when i’d write you notes during the week to pass to you during service; when you’d call to tell me you were around my area; or to just talk at nights.

i saw the facebook account of his girlfriend, coincidentally an acquintance of the pea. and felt insanely happy that he is happy (we knew from the start we could never be, he-was-not-my-type; and vice versa) plus we grew up together. and yet insanely sad that i do not know him at all anymore.

i wanted to pick up the phone to call; but i wonder what to say, “hi, its been years since we last spoke..” and i will know at the other end of the line, he’d be thinking “that’s because you stopped calling or stopped being around”; as with all conversations of this nature; and yes, i am guilty.

he knows who he is

the alabaster statue shines, an eerie deathly white in the forbidden forest; the serene smile on her face a distraction from the perfect shape of her eyes or the way her hair falls across her face. the moon casts its shadow on the veil on her head; its light falls almost like a spot light over the contours of her face, the etched lines of her eyelids, the miniscule marks upon her lips; every imaginary alabaster freckle.

it is the statue’s power that draws you to it; it is its silent call you and no one else hears, the walk on on forbidden soil, where every rustle sent alarm bells blaring off in your head–until the need to stand before her takes over you and throwing caution to wind, cut across the exposed lawn just to have that few seconds of a direct look full-on her face.

and even now, as you stand before her, willing every glance, every feature and every detail to memory, you know, as sure as you know there will be hell to pay for this entrance into the forbidden forest, you know that this moment, which feels like the most significant period in your life, will one day, just be one of the many lying in the bag of memories you’d have to carry for the rest of your life; one of those old bedtime stories you’d tell your grandchild sitting on your knee.

time is up, my friend, run, get out of there, but there you stand transfixed, seduced, mesmerised by the strange feeling that overwhelms and consumes and eats you out of gut and heart.