Being Jon Arbuckle
Friday, July 04, 2008
Being Jon Arbuckle
My parents enjoy their dates out on the balcony every once in a while, to have their cups of cheap coffee or to peep at the neighbors from this side of the estate. Whatever it is that they do on the balcony, it's always nice to know that a couple that has been married for more than two decades are still capable of this type of intimacy, the kind that does not rely on anything physical, but rather the kind of relationship that develops over the years due to absolute faith and trust. Anyway, it was a few days ago when they discovered a curious little worm that perched itself on the branch of one of the plants. It is a wonder how my parents found it in the first place, since it took me almost ten seconds to spot it myself as it was well camouflaged underneath the leaf. What my father did was he grabbed the little worm and placed it on the cactus that was on top of the railing before they left for work in the morning. When they returned, however, the found that the little worm has crawled all the way from the top of the cactus to the bottom of the pot, from there right down the railing and down the wall and to the floor where the other pots of plants were. Moved by the determination of the little worm, they have decided to keep it as a pet and fed it leaves from other plants in the meantime. How sweet, and how very strange all at the same time.
My parents enjoy their dates out on the balcony every once in a while, to have their cups of cheap coffee or to peep at the neighbors from this side of the estate. Whatever it is that they do on the balcony, it's always nice to know that a couple that has been married for more than two decades are still capable of this type of intimacy, the kind that does not rely on anything physical, but rather the kind of relationship that develops over the years due to absolute faith and trust. Anyway, it was a few days ago when they discovered a curious little worm that perched itself on the branch of one of the plants. It is a wonder how my parents found it in the first place, since it took me almost ten seconds to spot it myself as it was well camouflaged underneath the leaf. What my father did was he grabbed the little worm and placed it on the cactus that was on top of the railing before they left for work in the morning. When they returned, however, the found that the little worm has crawled all the way from the top of the cactus to the bottom of the pot, from there right down the railing and down the wall and to the floor where the other pots of plants were. Moved by the determination of the little worm, they have decided to keep it as a pet and fed it leaves from other plants in the meantime. How sweet, and how very strange all at the same time.
We have had a few family pets over the years, and it is just such a coincidence for them to adopt a pet worm just after I spent an afternoon in various pet shops around Holland Village. There is something about pet shops that I love, and it's probably the abundance of furry animals. Of course, I couldn't help but wonder in awe at times at just how much money humans are willing to pour into the beautifying of their pet dogs and cats. The sheer amount of merchandises in those shops for those pets was just astonishing, and you start to think about all those under-privileged human beings in other parts of the world probably living a worse off life than a house pet in Singapore. It's strange if you think about it, but that's the way it works. In Singapore, we have pets that wear clothes, pets that wear shoes, pets that have different food for every meal of the day, and a dozen different toys for a dozen different moods. You wonder at times if human beings are missing the point here, but I guess when you are where you are, it is difficult to tell any longer. Besides, just look at those little dogs bouncing around in the enclosures. Everything is OK after about ten seconds staring at them in the eyes, everything is fine.
We have had a family pet or two over the years, but somehow that trend just went out of fashion a few years ago. I suppose the upkeep is just too much, and there are always reasons related to animal feces that nobody is willing to clear up. My sister and I were children, I don't suppose we were exactly willing to have responsibilities to clear up dog feces and to wipe away random puddles of urine. The training itself would have taken too much time, and the thought of all the carpets and rugs destroyed along the way were enough reasons for my parents to say "no" to pets for the longest time. It all started with the German Shepherd we had in Taiwan, and the amount of excretion it produced on a daily basis. The way that the feces laid out all along the driveway and hardened under the sun was certainly not something you'd want to see as you step out from your home to start the morning afresh. That is not to mention the problems with had with the fleas, and that particular incident when the whole family was mobilized to exterminate those fleas that roamed the house with slippers and rolls of newspaper. That mission turned out to be rather gratifying, especially when those bigger fleas exploded into small pulps of blood and insect body parts.
We had a canary once, but that is a story I'd rather bury rather than to dig up the old bones again. You might be inquisitive enough and find it on this blog, if you are determined enough to look for it amidst the thousands of entries I have so far. Anyway, the canary aside, my mother has had family pets as well. Her family had stray dogs for a couple of years, but they were all poisoned by mysterious neighbors who refused to own up for one reason or another. Stray dogs loved her family somehow, but the neighbors didn't show much love for those stray dogs who never hurt anybody at all. They had a monkey once, but let's just say that a monkey is worse than a crazed dog, because it doesn't get any more aggressive than a monkey. A monkey scratches, a monkey bites. A monkey does anything that a crazed animal would do even when it is not crazy, and is in a happy mode and just glad to see that banana in your hand. Monkeys are not good as pets, they are better in zoos and perhaps circus. Just not at home when you have no idea as to how to keep one.
I remember the rabbit that we had when we came to Singapore, it was a white bunny rabbit which we called "Wabbit". OK, it wasn't called that, but then I don't remember any of the smaller pets in the family ever having any names to begin with. That rabbit was a strange rabbit, and rather introverted for the most part. It was willing to take a break from all the walking on your chest, but touching it was a big taboo because it'd bite you if you so much as go near its mouth. A rabbit's bite was painful, and that rabbit was particularly strong in the jaws. It must have been because of all the carrots and all the other vegetables we fed it, but the rabbit never really took off in terms of its weight. I still remember the sensation of its rib cages in between my fingers, and I guess we must have bought a sickly rabbit back then. Yet another successful transaction on the part of the pet shop owner to get rid of its diseased stock, how smart of us to take it all in like idiots. But anyway, rabbits aren't very smart and they are not interactive either, which was why we disposed of the idea altogether and got fishes instead.
Fishes aren't smart, and they certainly aren't interactive. But schools of fishes can look very pretty if you have the right lighting and the right tank for them. The fish tank was bought for reasons related to feng shui, which I still find to be pretty ridiculous. If it works for the folks, however, it works for me. They bought the fish tank a couple of years ago from a dealer in Tampines, and I think the shop was called "Rainbow" or something like that. It was one evening when the bottom of the fish tank decided to give way and water gushed out from underneath the tank like tap water. The family had no choice but to see the water drain out from the broken glass, and the fishes died in the tank as a result. So we decided to invest in a much better tank afterwards, and the family made an effort to beautify the tank as well. More colorful fishes and more corals, and they even bought an air-conditioning unit for the corals just so that they'd bloom in the waters. But the upkeep was too high, and the electricity bills rivaled that of a small shopping mall. So the air-conditioning was dropped, although we still kept the fishes. It is basically a tank with rocks and fishes now, not a pretty sight if you ask me. But in this family, the aesthetics is hardly in question, just as long as the fengshui works.
We had hamsters before, cuter versions of rats and other rodents we have seen in television documentaries. Hamsters are probably why I don't really understand the fear for rats in the house - they are basically bigger versions of hamsters, and perhaps less cute and that's about it. Given, some of them may be ferocious and aggressive, but let's see you live out in the streets for the same amount of time. Anyway, hamsters are fine, they are very smart creatures. They are probably on the top ten list of smart animals in the world, although I still don't understand their fascination with the wheels. They seem to love those wheels, always working out on them as if they are some makeshift treadmills. We had a giant cage for a couple of hamsters once, and I actually brought it to school for show and tell - bad idea. Anyway, the class was rather fascinated with my hamsters, since everybody was growing weary of those repulsive mealworms that never changed into mealworm beetles. Besides, dead mealworms smelled like absolute death, and the classroom smelled the same way after some time. Anyway, the hamsters were fun to look at, the way that they burrowed through the sawdust and then taking a sip from the bottle. Everything was adorable about those little balls of fur.
That was until the hamsters got lost one day, and they are still lost until this day. The family has yet to find those cute rodents in the house, and neither have we smelled any foul smell in the air that might have pointed to the location of their carcass. Either a bird came and swooped them away, they fell off the edge of the balcony, or they took the elevator down and ran away. We have yet to find those little balls of fur, and it'd be very much appreciated if somebody out there volunteers to solve this family mystery of ours. Other than those rabbits, the fishes, and the hamsters, we haven't had pets for a very long time unfortunately. I truly believe in pets prolonging one's life, the way those statistics would tell you about how people with pets actually live longer than those without. I bet it has some catharsis effects, kind of like taking care of little children and how everything about them fascinates the adults. They are like little children if you think about it, especially dogs and cats. The way that they look into your eyes, the way that they act, and they certainly see themselves as equals most of the time.
I'd like a pet if I ever move out from this home, but it's probably not going to be a random pet worm on the balcony. The worm is gone now by the way, I suppose it has moved on to a greener pasture on another balcony somewhere. In the meantime, I dream about having a dog in my home in the future, or maybe I should own a pet shop, so that I can own even more dogs. I have little experience with dogs, but I guess I can always hire people who knows about them to run things while I deal with the logistics and the smell in common pet shops. The one next to Subway in Holland Village has the most abhorrent smell ever, I can tell you that. It was like a dozen different excretion from different animals, collected over the past decade and then mixed with rotten vegetables or something like that. It was just horrible, and the other shop on the second floor was way, way, way better. I think dogs are amazing creatures, and nobody is going to run away from some unconditional love every once in a while. The only fear I have as to keeping a dog is probably the thought of turning into Jon Arbuckle from Garfield. You know, single and lonely, desperate and weird, and lives with his pet cat and dog, and a few spiders and rats.
I don't know, that has been a lifestyle that I have envisioned myself in the past, and it certainly seems to be going in that direction these days. Question: what is Jon's profession in the Garfield comics other than being the owner of the pets? Does he have a job? Wikipedia says that he was a cartoonist despite the fact that the comics seldom shows him doing anything other than to watch television and to do nothing at all. Being Jon Arbuckle is probably the worst thing that could happen to a human being, and thankfully he has two pets to keep him companied. Imagine if Jon Arbuckle is real, and he has pet worms as pets instead. Isn't that sad, like really sad? Keeping pets is one thing, being Jon Arbuckle seems to be another. I don't suppose I have been very good with pets, but I guess I am willing to try. In the mean time, it is all about getting out of this country with a degree and then setting up a home in Taiwan before any pets come into play. I shall get a dog, or maybe dogs. That'd be fun.
P.S. Happy Independence Day, although it really doesn't matter here.
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on Friday, July 04, 2008 at 11:49 PM.
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