It's a Dog eat Dog World

Mahatma Gandhi said, “The greatness of a nation and its moral progress can be judged by the way its animals are treated”

Now, anyone who knows me knows that I am basket-case when it comes to animals. Calling me an animal-lover would be a complete understatement.

My housemate and I have been housing strays for the longest time. We’ve had all kinds of species of animals that we have picked from the ditch to care for. Mind you species not breeds. We’ve had dogs, cats, birds, mice and even a bat. All of which were in dire need to survive and we managed to nurse them as well as we could. While we do live in an apartment, and have BEEN living in apartments for as long as we’ve been in KL, fostering animals in need has been difficult, but not undoable. This disposition started ages when we were kids. I remember walking to the shop to run errands for my mother, and coming home with not only the vegetables she instructed me to pick up, but puppies and kittens I found in drains and sidewalks. I remember the protests and an incident of me being locked outside the house, bawling my eyes out, clutching unto a mangy puppy my mother had insisted I put back where I found it. That particular incident, sent me into a 4 hours protest without budging, until my mother gave up in exasperation and allowed me AND the puppy back into the house. Being poor, we couldn’t afford to house all those strays I picked from the roads. However, we always fostered them until we found them good nurturing homes.

Dogs are perhaps the most misunderstood species in the world. A dog is not an ornament, or a security guard. It is not a part of your furniture or an element to dictate your social status. While I hate people who throw out dogs to fend for themselves because they assume it is their instinct to survive in the wild, I am more revolted by those who deny their pets the love and respect they deserve. The only instinctual characteristic of dogs is their unconditional love for their master. Indulge them with a scratch behind their ears and they will reward you with a lifetime of loyalty unconditionally, even when it means choosing to give their lives in exchange of yours. Even a mother’s love cannot substitute the love a dog would have for his master.

What people do not understand is that the act of deciding to adopt or buy a dog is a larger than life decision. It is not another furry object, it is a life you are bringing into yours. Deciding to home a dog is as good as deciding to have a baby. You have to take into account your finances, your capabilities of being accountable for another life, your space to provide the best for your new baby, and your dedication towards this living thing for better or for worse. It is a life altering decision which many don’t realize. It is a big step and it is not something that you can decide to discard and replace it with a perkier newer version. The bottom line is, If you are incapable of dedicating your life to your dog, DON’T FREGGIN GET ONE!

The many cases of abuse of dogs have been making headlines in our papers. But as Malaysians, we turn the page and pretend these pictures and acts do not bother us. We do not have laws to sufficiently punish those who murder animals or torture them, and these people, scot free and walk tall in the eyes of our law and regulations. Let’s face it, even our authorities torture the animals that are captured straying around and that are placed in the pound. Instead of humanely putting them down, The pound is a mass graveyard for dogs who have been clobbered to death and cats who have been drowned alive. Everyone wants a pedigree dog that they can show off and be proud of. But no one wants the strays who are in need of a home.
I have a toy poodle whom I refer to as my daughter for the past 4 years. While some may cynically refer to me as a hypocrite, my dog was found on the streets. After months of posting up notices for her owner to claim her back, I finally gave up and kept her as my own. Piggy may be a purely bred toy poodle, with an extraordinary posture and a cottony fur coat which makes her look expensive and posh. But to me, Piggy is just as any other dog to me. If piggy was a stray mangy dog that I found on the street, I would do the very same for her, feed her the same food, and loved her the very same way. I would keep my stance, just as I did to my mother 20 years ago.
There are plenty of dogs who are waiting to be adopted. Each one of them varying from looks to temperament. But there is one common thing. They are waiting for a new master to serve. If you cannot adopt, you can be a part of the foster care system “Pet Rescuers” have established.

Here are a couple of pictures to jock your conscience.


These are the starving dogs in a dog pound in Selayang


Joy is a dog who a lovely stray who minded her own business. The last bashing was when some stranger smashed her lower jaw just because she was what they considered "haram". Joy has undergone surgeries and is miraculously alive and healthy with a new home now. She can only consume a liquid diet now.


This dog was tied to a KTM station and had a stick stuck down its throat by some person who thought it would be an excellent way to stop it from yelping. The dog was tied by a strong so short it could hardly move as it chocked him everytime he tried to. ALL THESE in broad daylight.


Another case of an irresponsible owner who would not bring his dog to the vet and allowed maggots and flies to infest the wounds that he had.


The infamous case of Sheena the german shepherd who was abandoned and left to die when her owners moved out. She suffered multiple complications from continuous starvation and initial malnutrition. Sheena never made it to recovery, but she lives on in our hearts and of conscience today. Sheena would have made it if someone was vigilant and reported her case to Pet rescuers or SPCA earlier... It pays to mind your neighbour's business, especially in the eyes of the "Big Guy" sitting up there in the clouds watching down on us.

In reality, the pretty picture painted where dogs are waiting for a home at the back of a see through glass at a pet shop, is far from the real situation. The killing stops, when the buying stops. And in this case, it is exactly the same scenario. If you want to adopt a pet, why not adopt one who is in need, rather than buy one from a pet shop. Dogs who are placed in pounds and the SPCA are put down after their expiry period of possible being adopted. It doesn't make us any more humane just because we do not consume turtle eggs, buy leather wear or abstain from veal and foie gras. Of course, before you decide to adopt, please do make sure that you are ready to have another life in your life. That you are not intending to pass your pet over to someone else when times get hard.

All puppies are cute and bouncy. SO don't get one on impulse just because you think you can handle it. BE SURE you can.

If you can't adopt, and have the space for a dog anyways, foster one. There is nothing more rewarding than doing your part and saving a life. i urge you to forward this posting to anyone and everyone you know. The more awareness you create on the injustice Dogs in Malaysia experience, the better it is. God knows humans need to re-evaluate their nature.

All pictures were taken from http://malaysiandogsblogofshame.blogspot.com/

Lovely Bones

I watched the movie Lovely Bones yesterday. It was a great movie with a magical twist for a murder story thriller. What i loved most about the movie is that it made it less morose than it could have been. Yes, it was nevertheless heart wrenching, but there was comfort to it.

What affected me most about the movie is, albeit all the magical scenes of how heaven could be like, the story is really common, realistic, and it could happen to us any time. The world is a sick place and it grows sicker by the day. It is contorted how God's greatest creation is also the greatest destruction weapon He could have ever made. The free will that was given to us and us only, has been more often used in guiltless pleasure of inflicting pain.

As i watched the movie. I thought of a story that occurred in my life when I was little. I remember the period of time when my mother used to work in Singapore. Back in the days, there were no cell phones and transportation was bad. It often took my mother two hours to get home from just across the causeway. My father would always ride his motorcycle to the bus stop to fetch my mom after work from where the bus would drop her off.

One night, when we had our often power cuts, the whole neighborhood was dark and quiet. And my father had fallen fast asleep and forgotten to pick my mother up. I must have been 5 or 6. So my mother waited for him, and decided that she would walk home anyway. I remembered the booming arguments when she got home. She walked in fear and pitch darkness for one kilometer back to our house. She was angry because my dad had slept off. But i suspected that she was more angry because of the heighten anxiety of walking home alone in the dark, fearing an attack on her anytime should she be unlucky.

The next morning, a naked girl's body was found in the scrubs at the empty plot of land my mother walked passed the previous night. Brutally murdered, raped and soul-less. She was murdered approximately the same time my mother walked pass that plot of land. She was only 15 years old. She was somebody's daughter. She was a child.

I remembered the tears in my mother's eyes. But i couldn't understand why. Thinking back, it could have been tears of relieve that it wasn't her. My mother was after all, quite an attractive woman when i was younger. But it could also be tears of guilt. That the girl's life was taken instead of hers. It could have been tears of fear, that I was a growing child and she would now never have her mind at ease as long as i was out of her sight.

The neighborhood changed from that day onwards. Children weren't on the streets playing. Parents would be lining up at the bus stops picking their kids up. Husbands extra vigilant. The neighborhood where most of the houses weren't gated starting building gates, to better protect their family. I for one, was never allowed to go out and play again. The murderer was never caught. And the family of the deceased girl moved out eventually, overcame by grief of living in a place where their child's life was taken away, just like that.

Back then, I never understood the paranoia. To me, it was an unfortunate accident. But today, i finally understand it. I can finally understand the reason why my parents were protective and paranoid.

The worst thing that can happen to someone is to lose a child to murder. To comprehend why people would take a life of someone pure and innocent. I used to worry that i would be a bad mother. That my children would be drug addicts, or become drunks. But to think of it now, it doesnt seem so bad after all. It's better than losing them. Not knowing what exactly went through their minds at that last breath that they took. It's pure agony. It's a guilt that will eat you alive because you couldn't trade places with them. When i think of all the faces that were put up on milk cartons. And the incessant search of the lost kids by parents who will never give up. It tears me into pieces. This world is a sick place. Dripping with vermin and iniquity lurking at every corner.

I think that all teenagers should watch this movie. To learn to be wary of strangers or even the people they know. There's a time and place to learn and experience and as much as i have always been a firm believer that children should experience life with minimal retrictions, there's also safety measures that should be taken. It pays to be safe than sorry...

Pesky Visitors

There is something about our home that makes it irresistible. The reason why i used the word "home" and not "house" is because, no matter where we stayed over the years, visitors seem to flock to our place.Therefore, i have no choice but to believe that there's that x-factor that seems to draw people to it and somehow kathy and me cannot seem to fathom why or what exactly it is..

OUR home is the most mismatched home you can imagine.While we love the clashes of warm and brash colors, it's quite sad to say that our initial effort to match it up to the likes of a catalogue home remained futile. It was possibly because of kathy's and my distinctive differences in taste. It could be the hand me down furniture that don't match each another, let alone our color or concept theme, and since beggers aren't choosers and we couldn't afford to buy whatever we really wanted, we had to just make do with it. It could be our poodle Piggy who is constantly snooping around like a wind up toy in every nook and corner. It could be the fact that our house is never in a perfect neat condition and there's always some mayhem piled up somewhere that is waiting to be sorted out. For a place that is laced with imperfections from the moment you walk in to, we're guessing that people love our "home" simply because of the knack we have for making the best out of nothing or little that makes it homely, warm and fuzzy .. Or is it?..

While is it nice having visitors over most of the time, it can get rather weary when people stay for longer periods of time, unabashed by the subtle hints we give in desperate attempt to buy back some privacy. Since our home somehow emits an air of a dream bachelor pad where there are no rules and is lackadaisically comfortable ( or messily cluttered), it is sometimes hard to enjoy it all to ourselves, without unwanted or unannounced visitors.

Don't get me wrong here. We are not snobs with sticks up our arse who are incapable of accommodating people and appreciating the presence of visitors gracing our shack. We've had awesome visitors whom we wished for them to stay for good. Visitors we don't mind whipping a few dishes in the kitchen to show them a good experience at "Kathy's & Charlene's Lodge". Those whom you'd go the extra length to make their stay more comfortable, in any way that you can. Alas!! More often than not, we seem to attract the other kind. And for those kind, there simply has to be a line drawn to those others who can't seem to get the hint to leave when they should.

Our home is ours to enjoy and keep. And that's the only thing we have that is completely ours to modify and personalize, and do whatever the hell we want in it. But we have a nagging feeling that our unprecedented hospitality is the main cause of all our inconveniences.

In terms of visitors, we've had our fill of every personality imaginable. From people who have stayed for weeks without going home, to those who went as far as asking for a spare key. While we're a far cry from being neat freaks, having visitors means that we'd have to entertain them to some point, and clean up after them, which is an added chore to the little time we have after we cancel out the time spent at work, and doing the usual household chores.
Mostly, we would get people who would show up unannounced expecting us to drop our errands and plans, and accommodate them simple because they ARE our visitors. And then there are those use our stuff, eat up our food, mess our home and bring their friends to hang out without asking first. And then there are those (God bless their souls) who use our home as their "shag-pad". Bringing guys for sleep overs in our place, not to mention using our matteresses and bed sheets and scented candles just simply because they cannot do so at their parent's or relative's houses. Those are the kind that kathy and me would go at all lengths to prevent them from coming over again.

Where is the common courtesy people ought to have in matters like these? It is simple do's and don'ts that is really, common sense. Perhaps the reason why we seem to get visitors as such, is simply because people reckon that they can always rely on us, because we are their good friends or family. Or to put things in a crude perspective, they know that they can take advantage over us and have us keep our mouths shut just because we are "NICE".

Rather than risking sounding like a bunch of anal retentive bitches, it'll be truly nicer if people were a tad bit more considerate at times.. My, that would be too much to ask now wouldn't it??

The Ugly Truth

If there is one thing i hate more than take the daily train ride to hell every morning, it is walking in shoes that bite, burn, blister, lacerate, squeeze and make you feel like taking them off and stabbing a knife into it repetitively. I figured what makes the whole experience worse than it already is, is the fuming anger of ever picking the pair of the shelves and the guilt of paying what you had for something you would never want to wear again. More than often, as i stand in the monorail, or rather, fight my way through the crowded train to obtain some sort of balance, i can't help but admire the next set of pedicured and fish eaten feet standing next to mine on what that could only look like metallic stilts. On the other hand, my farmers toes in rubber slippers somehow just seems uglier, but more at ease!

Ages ago, i wouldn't be caught dead in public, wearing flip flops which are brightly colored. These days, it's all that i wear. My friends and family have tried to repeatedly throw insults, my shoe's way, up to the extent of telling me that my shoes me make look "pariah" and "selekeh". Strangers have pointed out point blank that I've got alot of nerve wearing something which is's downright ugly and last week, my doctor asked me, "Which sane adult would wear a pair of those!" After all said and done, i have yet to part with the greatest thing ever invented, and it's been 3 years since my first pair!

It is not that i don't like to own pairs shinny sleek pumps, or ballerina mary janes look prim and pretty. It's not that i don't wish that i have a rack and racks of Christian Louboutin's shoes or a fleet of Jimmy Choos. But i have learnt that fashion that is painful, is not everlasting fashion at all. It's fashion that people will craze over and then wham! It disappears just as fast as it had appeared. Real cult fashion is wearable, practical, one of a kind and always sought after. It doesn't have to come with a novelty look so peculiar you swear the designer was on acid while he came up with the idea. It doesn't have to have a four figure price tag on it because frankly, most designer shoes and Sungei Wang's ah lian shops collections, are not very far apart.


The crocs cult is taking over the working crowd. More and more people that i meet in the train these days are just like me, imprisoned in "uptight" office wear but wearing a sense of freedom, color and magic on their feet. We carry our "uptight" shoes in our handbags, or leave them under out office desk, just so we don't technically break our "uptight" office dresscode rules. I swear there's a familiarity between Crocs owners. There are times where we would exchange smiles after peering at each another's feet.

So despite what everyone around me says, and the tinge of uncomfortable stare that i get down at my feet, AND my mismatched colors of my outfit that looks as if a blind sunday school teacher had personally picked out my shoes, i think i like my Crocs very much and am absolutely fine with its green and pink watermelon colors. At least i don't have to save up for knee cap replacement in due time or buy burnion plasters and corn removing liquids on a regular basis. And at least, there's lesser one thing to worry about on a daily basis. Dread can be emotionally tiring.

So thank you Crocs!!!! You have been my saving grace and I hope you be as trippy, psychedelic, peculiar and colorful as you have always been!!!!

Jack of all Trades, Master of None..

The thing about having an education in psychology is, more often, you turn out to be a jack of all trades. I blame it on the limited course period which pushes you to study more subjects, but lesser in depth. However, studying psychology has its perks. You can pretty much work anywhere and build your career in many sectors which you've never dreamed of.

A good friend of mine and i were having a chat yesterday about our life's woes. Sometimes, i wonder if we even listen to what each another has to say, since we have a habit of talking simultaneously about our individual issues and picking up where we left off on random topics without addressing the ones we were talking about earlier on. Bur i swear we get each another! We can talk about life, relationships, work, personal issues in a 15 minutes conversation without any fullstops.

This is an example of our conversations.

KArin: Babe... i'm so messed up lah

Me: Why lah.. yeah tell me bout it, work's been a bore.

Karin: You know this guy, i dunno what he's doing to me.. Tell me bout it! No don't
tell me bout it, i don't even want to get there about work. OMG!! Did i tell
you this girl that we hated is in this awesome company.. That whiny one??

Me : Really??? No way.. Lucky B****!! Anyways.. i really don't know why i'm here..
I'm worth more than this. It's like i can't get out of the black hole.

Karin: Yeah lah tell me about it babe.. I've been in such a dilemma too. U know, he
hasn't called and how am i supposed to call first now. I don't know what he's
doing to me. Mummy also been giving me stress and do u know Charles is having
another baby?

Me: *Gasp* Another one? yeah lah men, luckily bernard's there for me. What do you
think, should i do what i am passionate about instead of wasting my life away?
OMG, i forgot to send my laundry to the drycleaners!

Karin: Well, my boss's partner thinks i'm a slutty assistant. OMG.. I don't know how
long i can take this. So babe, u know i was thinking i need a holiday

Me: Yeah, holiday sounds good. But money's an issue no? Well, you know!! No one
goes home on time in my company. I feel like a slacker for going home on time

Karin: So babe, about this guy.. I think i know what i'm going to do... (bla bla bla)


Get my point? How our conversation can get so incoherent?
We eventually agreed on one thing though. We blame it on the education system. We were taught to be analytical. To explore and dissect issues to get to the root core of it. But what was lacking was formulating the action plan to deal with these issues and sticking with them.

Personally, studying psychology inculcated a mindset that i can do just about anything. It gave me the confidence of being able to reach greater heights, be a better person, and excel in whatever tasks i should come across. But it has built us to be such passionate people that it is almost a downfall in the making.

Because the truth is, in life, the REAL life, everything is realistic. KPIs matter. Numbers matter. End results matter. The bigger picture is foregone for the here and now moment. But what happens to people like us? People who dream big and simply find it impossible to conform to the regular 9-5 job which offers little satisfaction and personal growth? In the real world, stepping over others to get to the top is a formula of success. What about weird queer people like us who want to do something we are passionate about, but out of the norm?

In the real world, unless you are the devil's advocate, there is little opportunity to be relevant. Unless you are a master of your trade, who gives a dingo about your endless potential of being great?

I choose to be queer nonetheless. After all, i am unique and special and i choose to believe that the world may just about need more people like myself and Karin and Kathy, to make sure that balance of "weird versus ordinary" is sustained....

The Pot of Gold, Dare you chase it?

For as for as I can remember, life in KL has never been a peachy. Since I left home for KL to embark of my educational escapades, I realized that the world can be your oyster, but there are serious chances of getting food poisoning out of it too if you’re not too careful.

For many people, work starts the moment you leave an institution, be it college or the simple decision of leaving your comfort zone. As for me, although I graduated merely three years ago, working seems like an act of eternity.

I have been in the workforce for more than 9 years now. Although most of my temporary escapades were part time josb while I was studying, work was still work and it doesn’t make it any lesser than what a real full time job was. There were still experiences and life long lessons which I’ve learnt throughout my formative years. Experiences can enrich your mind and knowledge. The most mundane job gives you an idea of what you truly want to achieve in life to reach a state of consciousness. Recounting my work experience, I’ve work as a barrista at Starbucks, emptying grease traps and preparing coffee. I’ve been a club ambassador for both the most happening club in town as well as a wiltering “gay” club which needed a publicity boost to maintain it’s revenue sustainability. I’ve worked as a brand promoter, from classy posh car show events to kinky ones where I’d have to parade around in bright white hot pants asking strangers for contacts to fill my database. I’ve done emceeing for events and gala dinners. I’ve done event management for companies who pour hundreds of thousands of dollars into a one night event to boost publicity. I’ve been an agent for scouting talent, I’ve been a store manager, a sales executive, a research assistant, a bar tender, a social worker…wellll... My point is, I’ve been around the block pretty much as a person who left college, say a decade ago. Albeit all of these jobs may have been weighed me down as I never had the chance to truly experienced what true college life felt like, I wouldn’t trade my experiences for any other.

But if there was one thing I learnt from “being around the block”, it is that job satisfaction is a very subjective but crucial component of your life. Why I perceive it as subjective is because, everyone has a different opinion of what a job should be or what it should provide. Personally, I am a person who knows what I want, and can never be contented settling for second best. I’m aware that it may come across as an arrogant trait, but it is the core of my emotional well-bring nonetheless. Having worked in numerous sectors, I have come to realize that what works for me is knowing that I have achieved something at the end of the day. I am a person who has found my passion in creating things, sharing my thoughts through writing, communicating with people and constantly being on the go. Long work hours do not scare me, the ordinary scares me! A job is stressful to me when there’s no room for personal growth or experiencing new things everyday. A 4 hour shift job can be more stressful than a 12 hour shift job when it’s ritualistic.

Since leaving the NGO sector, many people tell me that a job is just a job. That I should separated my personal life from my work life. That I should go to work for 9 hours a day, and slog just for the money even if I am unhappy, and come home and be myself again. The thing about going into a career in social work is that, it never makes you the same person you are ever again. Your work and personal life is conjoint and that makes work simply, personal. Therefore, your work governs how you would feel for the rest of the day, irregardless of the location or people you are with. I can’t decide if it is a positive or negative trait, all I know is that, it makes you grow as a person and it sure as hell makes you sure of what you need in life to be an all rounded being. It makes you a passionate work horse where the hours don’t matter; challenges are welcomed, as long as you get your work done. It makes you strive to be a success story, not a KPI keeper. It makes you see the world in a different shade of color, where hope, aspirations, and passion is the core of what you work for everyday.

Finding the right job is all about finding that motivation that makes you want to jump out of bed in the morning and work through the night. After all, what kind of life is worth living if it is not powered by motivation. Being an ardent follower of blogs such as Waiterrant and Mimi in New York, I’ve lived and laughed through their life’s worth of ranting about their job and constantly burning a hole in their pocket to survive the next week or day. Not until recently have I understood why they’d rather be strippers and waiters and be manhandled rather than getting a decent job in a call center which seemed easier. It was the passion that was driving them to the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow! It was the believe that assured them despite what the rest of the world said, that freaking pot of gold is there and theirs to keep. All they needed to do is get past the journey and leprechauns to get to the pot of gold!

Finding the right job is not about luck, and contacts. Though it may be true to certain extent, it’s about how much you are willing to sacrifice and knowing what truly is your passion. How do you know which job is perfect for you? The moment you call that 8 to 9 hours of the day that u spend in an area a “job”, you know it is not perfect for you. Who says you have to settle? You owe it more to yourself to settle.

Find that passion! Live that passion!

Till Next time

Money can be such poor satisfaction when there's nothing else but it that motivates you..

On the positive side, there's always hope..