Saint Barack lectures black men

[orang37]

Sawasdee Khrup, TV CM Friends,

Based on our belief that suffering shared is suffering diluted, we pass on to you the news of the passing on of the elderly cocker spaniel who lived across our little soi from us.

Milo was around ten or eleven years old and, like so many Thai dogs, was kind-of "halfway" taken care of: Milo took with him to the grave about a hundred large ticks, and we can't say we're sorry to see them go, only sad, and sorry, that old Milo, our friend, is gone. We never counted his fleas, but surely the flea community is also grieving with their devastated tick brothers and sisters.

When we first moved into our Celestial Palace here, there were two dog-armies in the neighborhood. One dog army we referred to as the "Simon Bolivar Replumbican Liberation Chaussers," and the other army we referred to as "Nasty-Ass Bone-Head Testosterone-Skank Commandoes." These two armies would have nightly karaoke howl-offs frequently between midnight and 5am. But, three years ago, the sudden absence of the numero uno alpha-male top-dog from the neighborhood seemed to result in suspension of hostilities. Milo was in the Simon Bolivar brigade, kind of covering their rear. What was very strange that the previously mentioned top alpha dog also lived with Milo ! And, as you might guess, top-alpha dog was the leader of said Commando howler-troupe.

It took us a while to become friends with Milo; he was very shy about us. One day someone who lives in the little complex across the soi came over, and Milo was allowed to come in the yard of our house and joyfully urinate on everything taller than it was wide, and every corner of the house. That was kind of an ice-breaker, we guess.

Anyway, soon Milo and we became friends, and when our human meat-package takes us out for a stroll, he'd come over for a little head-rubbing and sniffing.

We didn't know Milo was dead until our neighbor returned our shovel which he had borrowed. As he gave back the shovel, Khun T. said: "Milo die." He invited me to come over to the house: there was a patch of earth freshly turned-over. Khun T. and his brother stood there. A moment of silence.

We don't know why, but we spontaneously wai'd the grave of Milo, and chanted "gate, gate, paragate, parasamgate, bodhi, svaha," once. It just felt right. And to our surprise, Khun T., who speaks some English, said: "Amen" (we know that Khun T. is a Buddhist, by the way).

Adios, Milo; you are missed by the two-in-one of us.

best, ~o:37;

Edited July 26, 2010 by orang37

[harrry]

It is nice that every soi dog here has one or two friends who care about it and it cares about them.

[endure]

Sorry to hear of your loss Khun O.

[Loaded]

Anicca

[tijnebijn]

Always so enjoyable to read the OP's posts , sorry for your loss of the dog ,

but seriously ....if your really cared for the dog why not buy a tube of ' frontline '

now and then , it probably would have saved his life .

Frontline gets rid of all those ticks miraculously good , also for soi dogs ...... :jap:

[orang37]

Anicca

Sawasdee Khrup, Khun Loaded,

Amen.

best, ~o:37;

[orang37]

....if your really cared for the dog why not buy a tube of ' frontline ' now and then , it probably would have saved his life .

Sawasdee Khrup, Khun Tinjnebin,

Your good words do raise a "fair" and profound moral question. What is our responsibility to the suffering of animal (and human) life around us ? Is it "humane" for us to enjoy casual contacts with the numerous neighborhood dogs and cats, while only taking "first-class" care of the Celestial Cat-Being who has blessed us with his choice of abiding in our house ? Said Celestial Cat-Being once being an orphan with a broken tail rescued by a farang woman who loves animals.

Is it a sad commentary on our states of being and mind that Milo's death reminds us more of our own mortality, and the mortality of all living things, than ... ?

Last night we saw the first firefly we've seen this year. Blinking ... blinking ... or was that "winking" ?

best, ~o:37;

Edited July 27, 2010 by orang37

[el jefe]

Khun Orang,

My sincerest condolences to you, your neighbors, and the two dog armies.