For the past three nights, I've slept at my Mom's house. A couple of weeks ago, she asked me to babysit her house for a few days. She was finally going to Palawan-- something she had always planned to do but never got around to doing--so, of course, I said yes.
What was so special about her house that it needed a sitter? Well, first there are all her beautiful flowers and trees that need daily watering, and sometimes, a bit of talking to. Next, there is Muning, the house cat whom she inherited from our dear Tito Ernie. And last but not least, there is Poochy, their pet dog.
Yes, you read that right, a dog! If you're a good friend of mine, you'll know that I am not exactly a fan of dogs. There must have been some kind of gene that I was not born with, I'm not sure. Anyway, I was supposed to feed these little critters, make sure they're safe and satisfied till their "mom" and "dad" gets home. Fortunately, my son S went with me, and it was he who ended up feeding the pets.
Which didn't mean that I didn't have close encounters with them, more so with Poochy. Every time I had to get to the home office from the main house, there was Poochy looking at me through his sad eyes, begging to be fawned and fondled. For the life of me though, I couldn't make myself cuddle him. And so I just let him play with my legs, while I silently prayed that he already had all the necessary shots. And that became our routine: me scurrying towards the office, him running after me for some play time.
Today was my last day at Mom's. And this morning, before leaving, I didn't scurry out of Poochy's sight. I even managed to pat him slightly on the head while he played with my legs. Which is not to say that I've grown to like him, not really. But at least, I don't hate him, not anymore :)
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