So I was thinking, instead of all those disasterous posts that I've been crapping about all the time, I'd write something stupid and cute!
Yes, I'm referring to my dog. the biscuit.
(as if I haven't been complaining enough about her)
SO...for starters, here she is:
Don't let those looks deceive you. She's as evil as Stitch can get.
She's turning 8 this year, which means she's an old lady. And boy does she act like one.
Anyways, when I first got her she was only 2 months old. Whining and all. And since I was staying in the college hostel at that time, I had to sneak her in to my room (a prison cell) to keep her there. So I had this huge bag in which i just put her in, she was only as big as my palm, so no problem.
First day I put her in my room, I went to get some water for her. Guess what she did? Barked the freaking hostel down, she did! If she weren't so cute then she'd probably be eaten alive. Or strangled to pulp. By me.
That was the start of her existence in the hostel. Oh, everyone in my block knew she existed. Cause of that one day. She had to make her mark.
Amongst the other things that she did, as all my friends in the hostel who would know (cause they doggy-sat for her), she peed and pooped right under beds just right where you couldn't reach it that you had to drag the bed out and all the furniture around it, to clean it. She'd be happily sitting in a corner watching you with her head tilted to one side. So when you're done cleaning it and putting back the furniture, there'd be no more strength left even to yell at her.
She loves taking road trips, although i have no idea why. The moment she gets in the car, she just falls alseep. Till she hears the handbrake being pulled and you open the door. And then the madness starts.
There was this one time (and i say one because we learnt our lesson and never did it again) where we were playing scrabble on the floor, at home. With her minding her own business. Right?
You know how scrabble boards can't be moved if not all the tiles will just be messed up and all hell breaks loose?
So Cookie decides at the last round, which means all the freaking words are all stuck together and complicated and shit, to walk across the Scrabble board. From left to right, before we could do anything. And the four of us unanimously shouted COOKIE! (its like our favourite scream word when she's around, next to NO!)
She paused, turned around and sat there while we tried to arrange the words back on the board. I think we gave up.
[Wow. I drafted this a good 4 years back.]
As time passed, and as people go through tough times, so did she. She's lost an eye, and can't see in the other, which is completely unfortunate. She's still as greedy as she can get though, she knows exactly where her food bowl is, and knows how to get into her cage to sleep. Oh, she hated her cage for the longest time. Because it was a sign of punishment. We used to lock her in her cage if she did something wrong. So when we had to mop the floor and put her in so that we wouldn't have her paw prints all over the place, she barked the house down. Pity my ears.
But all the same, love her, I do.