... And to think it all began with the dog.

To celebrate my birthday, Mama S took me to "English Tea" in Delifrance, which basically comprised of two cups of hot water, a couple of honey tubs, liquid cream, a bag of English Afternoon tea and a slice of English Fruit Cake to share between us. It all really started when I asked about the Afghan hound my mom said they used to have for a pet back then, back when they used to live right behind La Salle. Their pets tallied as so: one Great Dane, one Afghan Hound, two Welsh Corgis, four Maltese, and a couple of snapping Turtles in the garden pond.

No, we're not exactly as affluent as we sound.

The dog's name was Omar, and as Mama as said, he was oblivious to everything around him. "The Welsh Corgis would be yapping, and the Maltese would be everywhere... but Omar would just be sitting like that, nonchalant, and the Great Dane would just be looking at him. We never heard him bark." "So Mama S, how was Omar useful to you?", I asked.

"Well, he just basically looked good," she replied. "And I would take those dogs out for a walk in the late afternoons in Greenhills; that's how I got my figure back then. Then a good girlfriend of mine one day called me up and said, 'Sonia, sonia, you're dog's on the loose again!' And I asked why, and she said, 'My brother went out biking one afternoon, and suddenly this huge beast came up bounding beside him, and his balls shrunk!" she convulsed in a wheezy, riotous laugh.

"And Buster, the Great Dane, was so addicted with all the behinds of the maids, that when they were just standing around and chatting, he'd just snoop in from behind, and snuck in between their legs, and sniff away." She broke out in another raucous fit. "And the maids would go "Oooooooh!", and they couldn't move one bit. Ay, they were so scared, because if they moved, just one kibot like that, naka! That'd be the end of it. Well, you know, they only reason I got those dogs was so I could teach your father and Uncle Aly about sex, because you know how they went to La Salle and the fathers, there would not, they would not speak to the boys about it."

Which reminds me," she tearily chortled, "The other day I was hearing Mass in Mount Carmel, and the only people around were us old ladies, a few maids, and some middle-aged men who were probably there looking for new wives or something, and the priest there was old and wrinkled, and he said with such conviction, 'I plead to you! I beg of you! It cannot be! It must not be! Please do not use birth control! Please do not take the pill! It must not be! It cannot be!' and Aaaalll of us old ladies in the pews were just... (a momentary pause to catch herself and her breath)... jaw-hung in awe, and, good God! I wanted to raise my hand and say, 'Father, I think you have the wrong audience!' "

It felt good, really, to see my Grandmother so happy. It's been quite a while since I saw her light up like this.