Friday, October 21, 2011

Blessings and curses

One of the greatest blessings I have in life is the absolute freedom to make my own decisions about who and when I meet, and the absolute independence to go where and how I feel. This is in total contrast of the horror stories that we are made aware of via platforms like VAW and VU.

I couldn't help but feel grateful as I was returning tonight from an impromptu meeting with my ex-colleagues and now dear gal pals. It was midnight by the time I got home after dropping two of the other girls to their dwellings. I feel safe thanks to the 4 wheels under my bum and the metallic enclosure around me. I feel infinitely thankful to have a loving family (in-laws included) without having to ask for them. Not many people are as lucky.

I take a moment to think about the less fortunate ones and pray that they might all one day feel secure in their own homes and loved by those close to them. I am fortunate enough to not know many people in my surroundings who are in abusive relationships. For those that I know of, I pray for the ability to help them open up to me, and the courage to help them rise above their circumstances, in whatever way I can.

It's not okay to know that such things happen and let them be.

Thursday, October 13, 2011

The uh-oh moment

... happened today.

People who are squeamish about animals or sex or a combination of both should stop reading at this point. You have been warned.

Phoebe (and thereby) Mojo have been in heat since the past two weeks. Prior to this, we used to put one of them in the crate on a rotating schedule so as to avoid accidents. Actually, that's quite unnecessary, because Phoebe is quite invincible... if I ever have a daughter, I want her to be strong and capable of defending herself like my bitch here ;-) In fact, we had to (you know, er...) help them conceive just a few months back.

These past couple of weeks, however, we have managed to keep them apart by just yelling at Mojo and threatening him. Also, it helped that Phoebe bared her teeth at him and also bit him at times. Yeah, we're twisted like that... we find that better compared to having to put them in the crate and get them out every hour or so.

Anyhoo. We're grateful that they sleep through the night without us having to sleep with them in separate rooms like we did before. This morning, as has been the routine for the past 3-4 days, we woke up to the cacophony that ensues when Mojo tries to screw Phoebe. (Squeamish folks, I told you so!) By the time I could go grab Mojo and push him out of the room or onto his bean bag, he'd mounted (I can't believe I'm using that word... the last time I used it, it was as a Linux / UNIX command) Phoebe. We thought of pulling him off but couldn't risk separating him from his (er...) little Mojo. Talk about making split-second decisions!

So it happened that for the next 20 minutes or so, we sat in bed contemplating the consequences of the recent events, while they gradually moved all over the room stuck at the base. Literally. Thankfully, after the first few seconds, there aren't any pelvic thrusts involved in this graphic sequence. (Any prudes reading so far? You've shown exceptional courage. Now go away.) At some point, Phoebe got tired of standing and decided that she wanted to sit in the bean bag. So she did. Mojo realized that he had no option but to accommodate her if he wanted to continue having his way with her. He was done a few minutes later, and I hurried to wash the bean bag clean. Talk about parenting.

The rest of the morning passed by peacefully, with Mojo banished to the crate, and without us bringing up the topic that we ruminated over individually. After the hubs went to work, I called up the vet, gave him the details of the events that transpired, and asked whether there was a chance that Phoebe would conceive. He said that it's rare that it happens this late in the heat cycle, but it's possible. The only way to know would be to check the Progesterone levels in her blood. That would give us a 90% accurate reading. He asked whether we wanted them to have puppies or not. I said no. (I actually meant "Oh God, no!") He said that there were contraceptive pills available but they didn't really work. He'd seen a few cases where the dogs still conceived. He suggested that we either operate her now to remove her ovaries or go in for an abortion a month later. The former is not an option now (the hubs wasn't keen on it when I asked soon after the puppies were born) and the latter is never an option. It saddens me to even write about it.

So now, we begin the anxious 4-to-6-week long wait to know whether we're gonna be grandparents again before the year is out. We're not keen on it, but if it does happen, we'll make arrangements for the pups to be cared for and taken away sooner. Wish us luck, folks, and pray that we don't need it!

PS: I've written things in this post that I never thought would escape my (er...) fingers.

PPS: Whatever happens, we still love our Mojo and Phoebe to death. They're the best. And they make the cutest couple. Folks at the pet resort attest to that in writing :P

Tuesday, October 04, 2011

For 'em pearlies

Warning: Explicit oral content. Read at your own risk.

A few weeks ago, I decided to try this mouthwash thing. I have very bad brushing habits, and thought of this as an easier way to keep 'em pearlies intact for a few more decades. I completely forgot about them while all our stuff was collected in a room and wrapped in sheets until the house painting job was over. Found them while arranging stuff back into the cupboards, and tried one of the three flavors (which was actually non-flavored, the others being CoolMint and FreshBurst).

A few days later, after habitually taunting the husband about his bad brushing habits, I suggested that he try the mouthwash I bought. Here's how it went...

Me: Didn't you just say you were going to brush your teeth?
Him: Done!
Me: Already?! But you were barely gone 30 seconds!
Him: How long does it take anyway?!
Me: Hmpf, no wonder you have all that plaque lining your teeth on the inner sides of your gums.
Him: Dude, that's the color of my teeth.
Me: What, brown?
Him: Huh?!
Me: You brush your teeth like you'd brush a baby's bottom. With soft bristles to boot! I think you should try out Listerine. I got it a few weeks back.
Him: What's that?
Me: 30 seconds of Hell in your mouth.
Him: :-| (a la Sheldon Cooper)

I decided not to elaborate. The ensuing scene that played out in my mind...
Me: You've got to rinse your mouth with it for 30 seconds. You can't swallow it. It stings. You can't drink water for a while after it's stung you.
Him: :-| (meaning "Now why would I ever do that my mouth?")
Me: At the rate we're going, largely thanks to our brushing routine or the lack thereof, we're gonna run out of teeth by the time we hit the 4-Ohs.
Him: I could live with that.
Me: Dude, missing teeth and hair! How are we ever going to rock our 40s?
Him (to himself): Drama queen!
Me: But dude, does it sting!
Him: :-| (translates to "And you're even bothering to recommend it to me. Are you out of your mind?!")
Me (to self): Why did I even bother?