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    LifeRelationshipsTC46 Unplugged: Fun Conversations I Have With My Dog When We Go...

    TC46 Unplugged: Fun Conversations I Have With My Dog When We Go For A Walk

    Nobody: What, you TALK to your dog?! 

    Le Me: 🙄😤

    My little furry bro, Simba or Sim in short, turned 12 last year. Going for walks with him pushes tiredness out of my being, even if it is a post-dinner fun activity on a weekday. And it has remained so since he was about 3 months-old, when the lion cub was just taking his first baby steps outside his den, after being brought to his newly-found home. 

    Our den has been his territory ever since, his comfort zone. There’s nothing that enters or leaves the house without his strict scrutiny. Every micro-insect crawling on the floor, every smell inside wardrobes, everything going in and out, his jet black, wet, ever-poking nose always knows. So, within his boundary, he is at peace, at rest. 

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    But… the moment that pokey nose leaves his den, his sanity goes for a toss. Ears plucked up uptight at right angles, eyes sharp enough to X-ray everything that crosses his path, and nose puckered up to catch every unfamiliar smell along his way. Senior boy, so what? He is as gung-ho about “beu beu” (pronounced bay-oo), as we referred to his walkies, just as he used to be when he was a tiny fur ball. And, oh yes, conversations, they too remain an indispensable part of our walks, no less than an adventurous expedition for him. 🐕‍🦺

    So, here’s how our conversations usually go on a regular beu beu, heavily dominated by question and exclamation marks.

    Sim (tugging at the leash at the landing): How are you lagging behind when I’m walking at snail’s pace?! Fatty, just speeeed up!

    Me (with my newly-acquired post-pandemic tummy, struggling to catch up): Slow down, dude, you’re flying through the air already!

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    Amaara

    Sim: You fatty! 

    (Moving north, south, east, west and tying my feet up with his leash in the process) Let me do an inspect.

    Me (pushing the elevator button): Stop, Sim! I’ll stumble and fall! (fervently untying myself with haste, lest he pulls so hard that I end up falling flat right on my face)

    Sim: All clear! Roger that? Oh, where’s the lift, eh?

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    Amaara

    Me: It is…

    Sim (panting): Oh, it’s here! Finally!!! Hark, here we go! (poking his nose in through the opening door and shaking his head in a left-right movement repeatedly, as if the door is meant to be split open with his head)

    Me (pushing the button for the ground floor)

    Sim (sniffing, huffing, and puffing inside the elevator): Hey, what’s this smell on the floor??! Oh, all OK. Now let me sniff the wall. Eh, fish blood right there! Can I get some of it? Ohk, never mind! Oh the railings need my attention too. Nah, nothing here as well. All clear. Now what? When will we ever reach the ground floor? Fatty elevator, just move your butt!!!

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    (takes a quick look at me, followed by a nose-nudge) So glad to go out with you!!!

    Me (pulling his cheek): Such a cutie! So glad…

    Sim: Ah, we’ve FINALLLYY reached! Let me head butt the fatty door again!

    Me: Boy, don’t pull. How many times do I have to repeat?

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    Sim: Huh!

    Me:

    Sim (cutting through the cool breeze): Such cool, much wow!

    Me (picking up walking speed): Such a breath of fresh air!

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    Sim (panting excitedly 🐶): Who there? Looks like Uncle Creepy. Let me pop my head further up and stare for 2 more secs. Ah, I’m right! SEEEE, there he goes again! Running away the moment he spots me! I shall get him someday! Let me focus elsewhere. (Looking straight) Yay, my favourite Uncle Nice! Treated to some crispy Parle-G just the other day! What a guy, so open-hearted, loves me, so gentle, so… LOOOOK That cat again! (stares intently with glowing eyes and tugs hard at the leash, in the mood to pounce) What you do in MMYYYYY territory? I’ll get you when Di is not around! God save your soul then!!!! (puffing out air with all the force he can gather). Ohk, gone now! Good for you.

    Me: Calm down, Sim. It’s just a passing cat.

    Sim: You supporting Mr Bob Cat over MEEE? You stabbed my soul. (looks down and winces)

    Me: No, just…

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    Amaara

    Sim (smile back on his face, tongue out): Ohk, never mind! 

    Me (patting his back to appreciate him)

    Sim (gives my knee a gentle nudge with his head): So glad…

    Me (smiles at him)

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    Amaara

    Sim (pulling at the least again): High time we return home! Been at least 2 hours!

    Me: Hot dog, it’s hardly been 10 minutes. We just took one round of the park.

    Sim: No, no, no, missing Maa…and home! Very badly!

    Me: Just two more rounds. And then, I promise, we’ll go back.

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    Sim: What? We’re not going right now? Ohk, fine, if you insist.

    After 1 round…

    Sim: Di, let’s go! Let’s go! Let’s GOOO! What if Maa is in trouble! What if Uncle Creepy visited us? What if Dad’s TV stopped suddenly? What if…No! No! No! LET’S GO BACK.

    Me: Okay, fineee.

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    Amaara

    Sim: Yay! Maa I’m finally coming to rescue you!!!

    Me: Huh! 

    Sim (smiling from ear to ear, eyes breaking out into stars)

    Me: Fatty, just speed up!

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    Amaara

    Sim: You call ME….????!!!!

    … and there you go, another beu beu comes to an end!

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