i was chatting to one of my colleagues, the great fairy, a couple of days ago. we had another one of those exchanges that deserves to be noted down, for posterity.

halfway during our conversation, i mentioned that i was bringing sahara to the vet. the great fairy pondered this bit of information for a while, staring at the (extremely dirty) ceiling, with an increasingly dreamy mien.

"did you know that one of the recent miss singapore universes is a vet?", he asked.

preoccupied pause

"i have a magazine featuring her. she did a photospread in it."

second preoccupied pause, accompanied by what might, for the less fastidious, be described as a beatific grin

"that was... quite some photospread." this observation was accompanied by a sagacious nod.

third preoccupied pause

"i think i lent the magazine to one of my friends. i should get it back."

fourth preoccupied pause

"i think i was serviced by her once." (for the record, since one of my other colleagues, pripapus, has, just today, baselessly accused me of being prone to exaggeration, these were his exact words. and, again for the record, every one of my entries is based entirely on fact. which i think is way more blog-worthy than fiction could ever be. i do not fabricate these happenings. they just seem to occur.)

fifth preoccupied pause, till he saw me looking at him strangely and replayed what he had just said

"not me, my guinea pig," he hastily clarified (likely story. he then went on to explain to me the history and genealogy of this guinea pig, to give him credit.)

subsequent to this, he made an attempt to change topic. unfortunately, his brain was still exalting in its little reverie.

"are you bringing sahara back to mount pleasure?" he enquired. (he would make an excellent politician, for he immediately clarified that he meant the vet practice, mount pleasant, and that he had gotten its name wrong because his mother happens, most coincidentally, to live in a development named mount pleasure.)

the great fairy is leaving for bigger and better endeavours. life will be a lot less amusing when he is gone from the office. for his sake, may his future pets be fraught with ill-health.


sahara, fresh from a bath.




our sleepy girl.


everytime she soils her pen, she gets confined in this little box while we change out the newspapers and wipe down the pen. naturally, she doesn't seem to like this very much, and insists on poking her head out to see why we aren't responding to her whines. if we don't do a sufficiently quick job, she shits in the box, and leaps around in it, just to teach us a lesson.