That little rascal

My dad was right in supporting my sis in bringing the rascal back.

Granny and I were most against bringing a pet an animal to the house after such a long time.

We gave reasons like:

1) My sis only has san fen zhong re du and Granny would end up being the one taking care of the rascal in the end;

2) Waste of time/money/water;

3) My sis would bring the rascal to the room and dirty the whole place etc.

Of course, all our reasoning fell on deaf ears and my Dad's reason for bringing the rascal back? It would remove my phobia of animals and I would not cringe in fear and lift my legs up whenever a cat walks under my chair at a coffeeshop. I went "Huh? How would this help?" I just thought this was a totally lame excuse!

And so when the rascal arrived on the 1st of July, I could only mutter a soft "cute" before dashing to my room and closing the door shut until I was assured he was safely in his cage. That is how timid I am when confronted with animals. I nearly cried tears of frustration when he barked non-stop in the dead of the night on his first few nights because of the unfamilar surroundings. What if the neighbours complain? So paiseh! There was minimal zero contact between the rascal and me for the first few days.

Granny took it pretty badly too. Dad only told her about it on the day of the rascal's arrival. She refused to even go near the dog and did not speak to my sis for a few days.

Of course, all that has changed.

My dad was right. I no longer cringe in fear when I see a cat coming near me. My phobia of animals has definitely lessened by a significant degree.

The rascal has become the joy of the family. He is let out of the cage in the morning and allowed to walk around until we bring him back in in the evening. The kitchen becomes his favourite hangout place around dinner time and he goes around sniffing everywhere. His ears perk up and he starts to get all flustered when he hears footsteps and turning of the door knob. He jumps up and runs around in circles when anyone of us comes home. He is stationed outside the door of my room when my sis is not awake yet. He just knows she's there. He cuddles up in his little "bed" and takes his afternoon nap when no one is free to entertain him. He rushes back to his cage when he pees at out-of-bounds areas, because he knows he is going to get it from us.

And Granny? She loves the rascal and shows it obviously through her actions, although she refuses to admit it. Like the time she steamed some pork for the rascal just because he refused to eat his own food. She asked, What if he goes hungry? The pork has no salt; just mix it with some rice, it should be ok. Or the times when she would save up leftover rice to make sure it lasts through the weekend for the rascal's meals because we don't cook on weekends.

I have never mopped that much or used that much Dettol or old newspapers before the rascal came. But I really do not mind. Neither does my family. True, we make the occasional grumbles about yet another puddle of pee or poo, but everything is cleared up in a jiffy.

When a relative commented that the rascal really needed to be sent to a vet because he was constantly itching and his butt was turning reddish due to his constant scratches, I was super worried. Which clinic would be good? Would an injection be painful for him? I hope he responds well to the medicine. Lots of thought ran through my mind.

And so, we brought him to the vet today. And his diagnosis: bacterial infection. He curled up in fear when the vet took his temperature and placed his head on my sis's shoulders the whole time he was there. Thankfully, he gobbled up his pills right to the last morsel like it was some special treat.

Get the rascal to guard our house? Forget it. He is even afraid of cats! We would have to protect him instead. With much pleasure.