PET BED =D

Yey! Search over.

When we first had Buster, he automatically gravitated towards the three gigantic floor pillows that Sister Pusjing and Bro-in-law G-Genius gave me as either a Christmas gift or as a "housewarming gift" (a misnomer really as I never really had House Pioneer blessed). And so it goes that when we first got Barrioca, he also decided he wanted a piece of the pillows. I figured, no prob. There were three.

What I did not count on was the Alpha-Dog-This-Is-My-Territory-You-Nincompoop struggle between the two (being of almost the same age). One evening, when Buster was (I suppose) particularly pissed at Barrioca, he ran and literally pissed on Barrioca's pillow. Of course he got a good "talking-to" from me and he looked properly apologetic.

There were two pillows left. I thought, still no problem.

And then, the following day, when Barrioca was (I suppose) particularly pissed at Buster, he ran and literally pissed on Buster's pillow! Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy......Gr. He, of course, got the same "talking-to" and he, too, looked properly apologetic.

One pillow left. Big problem. I did not want to buy additional floor pillows because, well, I was convinced that they would all just go the way of the two I had to throw.

And so it goes that after Barrioca went on to pet heaven, I took out the one pillow left. After all, there was only Buster again.

And then (!), Banzo came along.

Anticipating Banzo's size when he becomes a full-grown adult, we made sure that while he was still no bigger than a tennis ball, he KNEW who the Alpha-dog in the family was. (It's actually funny to see Banzo now. He can, technically, whip Buster's ass given his size and strength, and yet, he is literally scared when Buster starts barking at him. Big baby. Haha. =))

In any case, the single pillow did not seem to be an issue. When Banzo was small, Buster didn't mind sharing it with him. When he started growing, Banzo would, nonetheless, step aside everytime Buster approached it. So I really don't know what came over Buster one day when (I suppose), in one fit of major insecurity (he's not stupid; he knows Banzo is a lot bigger and taller), he pissed on his own pillow (!) just to officially mark it as his territory. Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaayyyyyyyyyyyyyy....Gr.

Thing is, they've been used to sleeping on floor pillows and not on hard wood floors. And so, it was just a matter of time when they started jumping onto our bed when it's time to sleep! I don't care what you say. A queen-sized bed would never be big enough for me, my giant of a husband, one mini-schnauzer and one Siberian Husky.

And so the search was on. I, unfortunately, couldn't find floor pillows as big as the ones I had to throw (Regalong Pambahay has since phased them out), so I just bought the biggest ones I could find. Buster would fit, and I figured Banzo wouldn't mind just resting a part of himself onto the pillow. Major fail! Buster, of course, took the opportunity to prance around hopping from one pillow to the other, showing Banzo (I suppose) that he was the true master and that he has two beds. Hala! Without a proper bed, Banzo continued to climb up--and while Buster would start the night in his floor pillows, soon enough, he'd be joining the midnight crush on the bed too.

So it was a eureka moment when in the S&R sale last week, I discovered the Kirkland Pet Bed. Definitely big enough with room to spare (because Banzo tosses and turns when he sleeps--in other words, magulo siya matulog!) Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeyyyyyyyyyyyyy!!!!!!!! Yahoooooooooooooooo!!! I bought. I brought it home. The Hubby got excited, and decided to lay it on Banzo's favorite spot. Success! Bliss! Two floor pillows for Buster. One pet bed for Banzo. For the first time in quite a while, we had the bed to ourselves.

And then! Haaaaaaaaaaaaayyyyyyyy....while Banzo was still busy wreaking havoc in the living room, I walked into the bedroom the other night to find this.

"Mommy," he seemed to be saying with his accusing stare, "I don't care if I'm kasya in the floor pillows. I don't care if there are two. I don't want them anymore. Banzo can have them. I want this pet bed! HMP! "

Haaaaaaaaaayyyyyyyyyy.....@_@ Sometimes, I wonder if I would have an easier time raising kids. Then again, likely not. Haha....hay...=D

HAPPINESS IS....=)

Being able to sleep peacefully.....

....next to the people you love. =)

Shhhhhhh.... =)

BUSTER JETSON / DECEMBER 2,2009 =D

Hay, stress! And people think having pets is a sure-fire way to de-stress.

Buster J, to be fair, is a bundle of joy. The moment I walk through the door, he runs to and fro. He jumps up and down. If I do not attempt to hold him down, he would probably be on the verge of a serious heart attack every night from over-excitement. Happy, happy. Joy, joy!

Which made it more difficult for me to hear that he was being particularly gloomy the entire time Hubby Sweet and I were in Marinduque (the Hubby’s home province) for a 4-day “long weekend” trip. We usually bring them with us, but decided to take the plane (instead of the roro) this time so the pups had to stay behind at House Better.

Every night, we’d check on them. Every night, my mom would tell us that Banzo was being his usual disaster-generating self, but that Buster J seemed to be missing us terribly and that he has hardly eaten anything since we left. In an act of desperation, Ate Inday had actually taken to spoon-feeding him just so he’d eat. Even then, he'd walk away after a few bites. No mas, no mas.

You can therefore imagine my excitement when we finally got back to Manila, Monday morning. You can also imagine Buster J’s excitement when he saw us again. Hala! Happy, happy. Joy, joy! =D

The excitement was pretty shortlived. On the way home to House Pioneer that night, we passed by the Vet for Banzo’s 5-in-1 shot. I decided to just stay in the car with Buster J (because he pretty much tries to entice every single dog that he sees to play, and most dogs in the vet’s clinic are not exactly up to playing). As he watched Hubby Sweet walk in with Banzo, Buster J started to whimper. He doesn’t like being left out.

“It’s OK, Sweetheart,” I reassured him as I reached out, “They’ll be back.”

I reached out to stroke his ear. He likes it when I stroke his ear; it calms him down. Thing is, as soon as I held his ear, I realized instantly that something was wrong. It was swollen. I put on the car light, trying to check if Banzo accidentally bit or scratched him during one of their rough plays, but there were no bruises. I tried to check if maybe a bee stung him while he was prancing around in Mother’s garden, but there were no bite marks. I decided to follow Hubby Sweet and Banzo inside to have Buster J checked.

The diagnosis was quick; the solution dire. Ear Hematoma. Buster J had a mild case of earmites and because he has big ears, every time he scratches his ear and shakes his head, his ears flop around a lot. It’s probable, Doc Dennis said, that the small veins in his ear burst which led to the almost instant swelling of his ear. Think Manny Pacquiao, post-Cotto. Hay……It’s not life-threatening nor is it painful. It is, however, uncomfortable and Buster J would feel like he has something heavy hanging on his ear—which, in turn, would make him scratch his ear even more. We can either wait for it to subside, but the recommendation is surgery to drain the blood out. Otherwise, the swelling may just get bigger. Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!

“Bring him back Wednesday evening,” Doc Dennis said, as he gave us temporary meds to relieve the earmite problem. “If it gets worse, we operate then.” WAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!

Wednesday came with no improvement. The hematoma on his left ear was bigger; a small one had started on the right. I went through the entire day—meeting after meeting—with a heavy heart. I just wanted to stay home with Buster that day, but work awaits and so I must go. I texted Mother. I texted Sister Pusjing. By 5:00 p.m., I was out of the office. We need to give Buster a bath before we bring him to the Vet at 9:00 p.m. (it was a 24-hour clinic). Goodness knows how long it would take before he is finally allowed to take a bath again.

I got home and walked through the door with Buster J being his usual self. He ran to and fro. He jumped up and down. He did not even know what was in store for him that night.

“We would have to sedate him,” Doc Dennis explained, “and he would have to stay here until he wakes up.” Hubby Sweet wanted to take him home after the procedure, but Buster J would have to stay with the Vets until he wakes up.

“I’ll call you as soon as he wakes up,” Doc Dennis said. It was way past midnight when we left the clinic. We stayed with Buster J until he was asleep.

We received a call at 2:30 a.m. The operation was done. It went well. “Buster’s still groggy,” Doc Dennis said, “It would be best to just pick him up in the morning.”

Banzo slept on Buster J’s pillow instead of his that night. Hubby Sweet and I barely slept.

What if he does not wake up? What if he ends up maimed for life? What if he wakes up without us there…..What if……..I tried my best to push all the “what-ifs” from my mind. It would do me no good, I reminded myself. I was not too successful.

By 5:00 a.m., Hubby Sweet and I were at the clinic’s door to pick Buster J up.

He was awake! Thankfully, except for the fact that he looked like an alien dog with his bandage and protective cone, he did not seem the worse for wear. He rushed over when he saw us. He ran to and fro. He jumped up and down. I guess he was too happy to see us to even remember that he ought to be mad at us for leaving him with strangers in a strange place for an entire night.

Happy, happy. Joy, joy!

It’s been a long two weeks since filled with ear cleaning, bandage fixing, trips to the vet for check-ups and stitch removals. Oh, yes. It’s also been a long two weeks filled with efforts to stop Banzo from playfully swatting and biting Buster’s ear. We have been pretty successful for the most part. Except for one time I had to go down to lobby, only to come back up to find Buster’s protective come with bite marks all around the perimeter. It’s a conspiracy, I tell you. From Day One, Banzo has made it his life’s mission to help Buster J get rid of the darn plastic cone. Haha! =D

Buster J still wears his cone to this day, but the bandages have finally come off last night, and his wounds have almost healed. From long gashes, they’re now very short, scratch-like shallow wounds. He has learned to maneuver with the cone as well—except for a few comic takes when the door opening is smaller than the diameter of his cone and he just stands there “stuck” until someone notices. Haha.

We’re all looking forward to the day we can finally get rid of his protective cone. Maybe we’ll celebrate by burning it. =)

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P.S. – It just occurred to me that I have not written about Banzo yet! Naku! Next post. =)

LESSONS FROM BARRY WHITE =)

A little over a month ago, Hubby Sweet and I found ourselves agonizing over what we should do with Buster Johnson. He was still the sweet, playful, loveable Buster J but in recent weeks he has grown, well, a little bit more naughty. (That's putting it mildly. Hay...=() We would step out for a while only to find the house ransacked when we returned. Magazines torn and strewn all over the place. And not just one, mind you. Apparently, he'd go through one and tear it up, and half-way through, he'd leave it and go for another one. He'd then repeat the process until he either gets tired or until someone walks into the room to tell him no. The last time it happened, I think he must have torn at least ten magazines. This is sooooooooooo not Buster J. Buster J is a very playful, but very behaved pup. Something was up. He was ignoring Ragdoll. He'd only take token licks of his chewbones before he leaves them strewn all over the living room. He'd play fetch with the tennis balls only so much before he decides he has had enough. Instead, he'd try to climb up on the sofa and beg me to cradle him like a baby. Looking into his puppy-dog eyes one night, I came to startling realization.

"Sweet," I told the Hubby, "I think Buster's bored."

Hubby Sweet's expression said everything that was on his mind. He has been bugging me about getting a second dog ("Tweet, Buster is a dog. He needs a playmate."), but I have--until then--been shooting the idea down. He can play with the kids at the podium deck, I would tell him. (For the record, Buster J is the most popular dog in our condo. Coming home from work, we'd inevitably encounter some Korean kids in the elevator who would all shriek in varying decibels, "Wes Bustah?! Wes Bustah?! WES BUSTAHHH?!" Hahaha. Even the guards who are convinced my name is "Good Morning/Evening, Ma'am" call out "Huy, Buster!" when we pass by. =))

"A dog is different, Tweet. Even here in the unit, he'd have a playmate," Hubby Sweet would always counter.

At that particular eureka moment, I realized that the Hubby was right.

Unlike our choice of a mini-schnauzer (which we researched to death online) before buying Buster, our choice of our second pup was less deliberate. The night before, we were at Bonifacio High Street walking Buster J around. He loves Boni High because he loves harassing all the other dogs, regardless of size. Buster J would playfully paw chihuahuas and shih tzus, even as he went for rowdy games with the labs and retrievers. On that particular night, his playmate of choice was a weird-looking dog that I don't think I've seen before.

"He's a wire-fox terrier," the owner (a kind, 50+ sosy-looking donya =)) said as her yaya struggled with the dog Buster J was harassing, "They're not yet readily available here in Manila. There's only one breeder right now. But you know what," she continued, "he's very mabait. Very maamo. He's kinda expensive but I'm really glad I got him. He's very loyal to me. Unlike my pekingese," she said, referring to her other dog who also had her own yaya," Naku, this little one thinks yata she's the master and I'm her servant." Hahaha! I laughed and heartily agreed, remembering Onchi (Sugar's nickname) and Benjie.

That night, Hubby Sweet fell in love with the idea of owning a wire-fox terrier someday. I told him we'd have to wait because considering they're imported (and rare), each pup would probably cost around P50,000-75,000. The following day, we went to Tiendesitas to have Buster J groomed. We thought that while we were there, we might as well see if he would connect with one of the small-breed pups that were for sale. I was thinking either another mini-schnauzer or a pug; the Hubby was still dreaming of the wire fox terrier.

Quite serendipitously, we found two wire fox terriers in one of the shops. They were brothers, we've been told. Seven months old. Uh-oh. First sign of trouble. They're too old. I was looking out for a pup that was no more than 3 months. The Hubby conversed with the shop owner who told him that the two pups were from the "first batch" to be born here in Manila because the parents were directly imported from Italy. He said that 7-months is actually a good time to get a dog because by that time, all the "defects" as far as stance is concerned would have already shown. He went on and on and on about why we should get a wire fox terrier. Truth be told, I didn't want to get the fox terrier. The old adage "you can't teach old dogs new tricks" kept playing in my head. I thought it was weird that he did not seem to know how to walk. That he seemed to pee anytime he pleased. That--unlike all my other previous dogs including Buster J--he did not automatically approach me when I held out my hand. Instead, he ran away fearfully, his tail between his legs. I told Hubby Sweet my concerns, but I think the deal had been sealed long before we even stepped through the door. The P15K discount that he was willing to give should have tipped us off, but channeling Jerry Maguire, the shopowner actually had Hubby Sweet at hello. And so, if Buster J was my dog, Hubby Sweet was adamant that this was going to be his.

Everyone, meet Barry White. =)

His first few weeks with us were stressful. As in all-caps STRESSFUL in big, bold letters. Buster J readily warmed up to him and he to Buster J so they became fast friends--even brothers. But having spent all of his 7-months worth of life inside a cage with another dog, Barry did not know how to walk nor play. Unlike Buster J who always steered clear of the travel kennel we bought for him, Barry would dash to it and would only reluctantly leave it when we pull him out. It was his comfort zone. The only semblance of the place he has known all his life.

Where Buster J would literally zoom out the door, springing (as opposed to just walking) on a leash, Barry would only stand still and refuse to budge. He had no concept whatsoever of being taken out for a walk. He had not known life outside of a cage until then. He literally did not know what to do. He was at a loss. The look in his eyes said as much.

Whereas Buster J has already been trained to poop and pee once in the morning and once at night--and trained to go to the veranda in case he needed to "go" mid-day--Barry pooped and peed everywhere. It did not help that a quick trip to the vet for a check-up showed that he actually had a mild case of diarrhea--which we're betting he already had when we bought him. And so, we'd walk into a room to find his poop and pee all over the place. To say that the experience was exasperating is an understatement, but we could not fault him. After all, he had been used to pooping and peeing in his cage anytime he felt like it. The shop helpers probably just hosed down his cage every morning in a superficial effort to keep the kennel clean.

Ah, the shop helpers. At one point, it all of a sudden dawned on me why Barry would go running away, his tail between his legs everytime I tried to reach out for him. He was probably used to being shooed away with a sweeping hand motion as the shop helpers cleaned his cage. The thought broke my heart.

"Don't worry, Sweet," I told the Hubby, honestly trying to reassure myself more than him, "he'll learn from Buster J in time." Except that Buster J--instead of being a model for Barry to go to the veranda everytime he needed to go--amusingly regressed and decided that he will poop and pee as well in all the areas that Barry pooed and peed in. ACK! I realized quite belatedly that it was Buster J's way of marking his territory and establishing his position as The Alpha Dog of Unit 2*0*. Suskopo. I wanted to cry.

I suppose niece Patita hit the nail right on the head when one weekend in House Better, armed with doggie treats, she threw one which Buster J readily fetched and then devoured. She then turned and threw one for Barry, but Barry just stood there. (Buster J, of course, took the opportunity to fetch and devour. =)) Patita looked at me quite perplexed.

"Maybe you should try giving it to him first, Patita. He doesn't know how to fetch yet," I suggested. Patita held out the treat, but Barry just stared at it. (I had to hold Buster J to keep him from getting this one as well. Haha!)

"Maybe you should just lay it before him," I suggested again, "maybe he's too shy to get the treat from you." And so she did, carefully placing the doggie treat on the cold marble floor, but Barry just stood there and stared.

"Boy, Nangnang," Patita blurted out as she turned to me, "He's not too smart, is he?" HAHA! I had to laugh at that one. =)

"No, Patita," I reassured her, "He just does not know yet. He'll get it in time." =)

Still, Barry made Buster's life infinitely more interesting, and if only for that, I held on to the idea that we did the right thing. (That's just them playing; they don't really fight. They growl a lot, but they don't fight. Haha! Parang kids in the playground na nagyayabangan lang. =))

"We have to be patient with him, Sweet. We can't give up on him no matter how exasperating he is. We have to remember what he has been through before we got him," I told the Hubby repeatedly, really more for my sake than his, "Pancho (one of the shih tzu pups we once sold then demanded to get back) was a very angry dog when we got him back but we successfully nursed him back to being sweet. It'll take time. He'll 'get it' eventually." I repeated it so often, it practically became our mantra.

And, "get it" he did.......................eventually. =) We still have the occasional "accidents", but we have managed to generally "train" his toilet habits to a morning and evening poop & pee (but unlike Buster J who can "hold it" until we go down to the podium), Barry goes when he needs to go. ACK! =D Still, he's spritely now, even out-running Buster J everytime we set them free either in the tennis courts in House Pioneer or in the garden at House Better. Best of all, he has learned to trust people. While he still shies away from strangers, he now jumps up and down to greet us when we walk through the door and prefers nuzzling next to us when he rests or sleeps. It may be the corniest thing in the world to say it, but really, through the worst of times, sometimes love and commitment will be the only things that can get you through. And once you get to the other side, you will realize with quiet satisfaction, that it was all worth it. =)

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I've always wondered about puppy mills. We've bought dogs from pet shops in the past and have not really encountered any major issues. Maybe it was Barry's age at the time we got him that made all the difference. Still, when I look at him today, I'm thankful that we got him--despite all the initial difficulties (including several trips to the Vet to 'get him right'). I get the feeling that if he had stayed at the shop a little longer, he wouldn't have made it.

Which really sets off a debate in my head: the next time we get a dog (in the VERY DISTANT FUTURE =)), should I get from a breeder or should I save one more puppy from a puppy mill. Hay....=( Maybe I'll just go to P.A.W.S. and adopt. Maybe. We'll cross the bridge na lang when we get there. For now, it would just be the Buster & Barry show. =)

TIME FLIES WHEN YOU'RE HAVING FUN!, PART 2 / SEPT. 18,2008 =D

A few weeks ago, K sent me photos that instantly had me waxing sentimental. Earlier, as I was browsing through the book on mini-schnauzers that Father bought, I found myself wondering (with a slight tinge of melancholy) just how Buster J looked like as a pup. I don’t have to wonder anymore! Yey! ^_^ (Thanks, K. =))

This is Buster J, at 3-1/2 weeks.

This is Buster J, at less than 2 months old.


This is Buster J, a few days after we got him from Chicopoms. (He is the one on the left. Haha! ;p) He was so tiny then, he can actually comfortably curl up on my lap and sleep during the trips from House Pioneer to House Better and vice-versa. So tiny, I could actually pick him up with one arm. So tiny, I didn’t mind having him sleep on my chest as I laid down on the sofa watching TV.


These days, I find that I now have to struggle every time I pick him up—even when I use both hands and one leg to prop him up. These days, he is already “tall enough” to see out the window so he never really sleeps during car rides anymore. These days, I find that I am barely able to breathe every time he climbs up on my chest to sleep. He’s quite heavy for his size—as most schnauzers are. He’s not fat. He is, as they say in the vernacular, siksik. =D Thing is, he seems to think that he is still tiny. So he still expects to be picked up every time he makes lambing. He still expects to sit on my lap—no matter how uncomfortable he is—during drives. He even looks at me quite accusingly (a mixture of irritation and wonder glinting in his eyes) every time I try to move him from my chest to my side before he falls asleep.

That’s because, these days, this is the face that greets us every time we walk through the front door. It is the face that bugs us every time our full attention is required. Meet Buster J at 7 months. Long-haired Buster J. (Because we’re still waiting for his “poodle-foot-fur” to grow back just a weeeeeeee bit longer. Haha! =D)


Just the other night, as I watched him with Ragdoll, I came to a surprising realization. I should stop buying Buster J puppy food. He is now a dog.

WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!! =(

Hahaha. =P


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Who is Ragdoll?

Ragdoll is Buster J’s best friend.

NOT! =D

Ragdoll is actually MY bestfriend. Hehe. Ever since I got Ragdoll for Buster J, he has stopped pulling and ngawing on all the rugs and floor mats at home. Haha! =D Now, I just have to figure out a way to keep Buster J off Father's new cushions--which, quite coincidentally (and unfortunately), all look like big, plump, square cousins of Ragdoll. Ngyah. =D

IT'S PARLOR TIME! / JULY 30,2008 =D

At the risk of this adventure blog turning into a live journal on Buster J, I’m going to write about this particular bit anyway! After almost 5 weeks of being with us, Buster J has turned from a smart and spritely mini-schnauzer into an adorable, cuddly….uh….mutt. Hahaha! You’d have to wade through tons of facial hair to get a glimpse of his puppy-dog eyes. His cropped cut has given way to a wave of curls.

“Tweet,” the Hubby said one morning, “Buster is starting to look like you.” BWISET! Hahaha! He was, of course, referring to the hair. (Or at least, he better be referring to the hair. Hmp. >:p)

And so it goes that after office hours two Thursdays ago, the Hubby & I decided to bring Buster to Pet Scan @ Tiendesitas for his first ever grooming session under our wings. At P550 per dog, I thought, man, mas mahal pa yung haircut and pedicure niya! Hahaha. =) But just as most moms spend more to bring their kids to the mall parlor with the fancy car seats instead of dropping by the neighborhood parlorista who would’ve charged only P40 (with shampoo and blow-dry na), we did not even think twice about shelling out the equivalent of a few day’s lunch money for our pup’s grooming needs. Ngyah. =)

The instructions given to the groomer were pretty routine—mini-schnauzer cut, Kuya--with the only major discussion point (between the Hubby and me) being about whether we should have Buster’s foot fur cropped. I did NOT want to do it. He’s a mini-schnauzer for goodness sakes; he should have fur on his feet! I told the groomer to just make sure that the fur between his paws were trimmed and that his foot fur did not extend too much to the ground.

The Hubby protested; he wanted it cropped. I suppose since he usually walks Buster, he’s the one who keeps getting irritated every time Buster J’s fur gets wet as he pees. I tried to stand my ground. The Hubby was adamant. In the end, I gave in. The discussion in front of the pet groomer was getting ridiculous. “The only way he will see the folly in his ways is to actually let him get what he wants,” I thought, seething.

“I-poo-poodle cut ko po yung paa?” the groomer clarified.

“Kuya! Wag yung naka-shave pati yung legs ha!” I blurted out, horrified by the idea of a Buster J with poodle legs.

“Di po, Ma’am,” he reassured me, “Yung sa paa lang.”

The Hubby gave a definitive YES!

We stayed with Buster J for a while and watched him go from all scraggly to cleaned-up, the entire time reassuring him (through a glass window) that things are going to be OK. When we felt Buster settle down, we decided to steal a bit of time to get a quick dinner over at the Savory Chicken House at the SM Supercenter right beside Tiendesitas.

Now I’ve always heard about the “oldies” speak about Savory Chicken with reverence. Father, in particular, would sometimes wax nostalgic over having lunch at Savory when he was younger and still worked in the vicinity of Ermita (it was the Central Business District back then). The Hubby, on the other hand, seemed to have a real recollection of actually savoring Savory Chicken when he was young. I had no such recollection, so I eagerly trooped along with him.

We both went for the combo meal. Quarter chicken, salt & pepper spareribs, rice, one sliver of banana fritters, two small turon pieces + a glass of drink. At P195 per plate, it was not exactly cheap, but what the heck! The food arrived. Forget the rest of the food. None of them were spectacular. If I were to go back a second time, I’d just go for the chicken. I’d pay for nothing more than the chicken. In my mind, only the chicken would give me my money’s worth.

It may not look like much in the pic, but the chicken was crunchy and perfectly seasoned. Not too salty, it was flavored with some unique spice I couldn’t quite put my finger on. It actually did not taste like fried chicken to me, and reminded me more of the fried pigeons I used to savor at the Macau Pigeon House in Rockwell before the restaurant sadly folded up. Savory Chicken was the type you would dream about going back for over and over. The “oldies” were right. =)

The Hubby decided he also wanted to have it for baon the next day, and ordered A WHOLE CHICKEN for take-out. P320. Still not cheap. We just hoped it would still taste as good the following day. I suspected that it will not taste as good without the crunchy skin. Sadly, I was right. After a night’s stay in the ref, the Savory Chicken was no longer as…uh…savory. =(

We were done with dinner in no time, and trooped back to Tiendesitas to find our Buster J being bathed, then blow-dried (which, from experience I know he totally, TOTALLY hates!).

He couldn’t contain his excitement when we finally went through the door to pick him up (the entire time, we were watching him through the glass window on the other side). Hubby Sweet took one look at him and said, “Uh…...Tweet......uh, hahaba naman yung hair niya sa paa, di ba?" ACK! Hmp. >:/ I wanted to bonk him, but decided to just laugh. “Mukhang weird kase. Nakakatakot. Parang di dapat kalbo yung feet niya,” he continued.

"Of course!" I thought, but resisted the need to say I told you so.

In any case, I suppose it will all grow back over the next four to five weeks. At least, I HOPE IT DOES. Hay. =)

Anyway!

Here’s Buster J with his new haircut. Please try to ignore his chicken feet. Hahaha! ‘D

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Buster slept soundly that night. I think maybe he may have been stressed by the entire thing. =( In any case, as soon as he entered the unit, he practically plopped down on the pillows we had laid out on our mats for watching TV in the sala.

“Huy, tabi dyan. Higaan ko yan eh!” Hubby Sweet kidded as he gently tried to move him, but our pup just wouldn’t budge. =)

“Huy, amo mo ko no!” the Hubby repeated, chuckling. =) No reply.

After that incident, the Hubby stopped calling him Buster, and has since referred to him by his new designation: Master. Meet Master Johnson. Hahaha! ‘D

A HOMEY CELEBRATION / JULY 15,2008 =)

In direct contrast to the big-budget, action-packed (from wake/knee-boarding, silly!) anniversary out-of-town trip last year that saw Hubby Sweet and I celebrating our 1st with a run in Lago and with a weekend stay at The Boutique, this year’s anniversary was spent more quietly.

That’s partly due to the fact that a big chunk of the anniversary budget went to the acquisition of Buster J, who has single-handedly made House Pioneer an even greater joy to come home to—despite the occasional poop & pee accidents, and the occasional sleepless periods resulting from him nudging the Hubby and me in the middle of the night to (horrors!) play.

“No more playing, Buster. Time to sleep,” I would mumble, barely awake as I roll him on his back and lull him (!) to sleep with a tummy rub. On occasion, the Hubby and I would be sleeping soundly in a tight embrace, only to be disturbed by a hairy face gently nestling itself on my neck (which would then mean having Hubby Sweet go nose to nose with a mini-Schnauzer, hahaha). It’s Buster Johnson wanting to join the midnight group hug. Suskupo! Hay….=D

Yes, the Hubby can even now officially use the excuse “the dog ate my….” without necessarily lying, after he accidentally left some important business docs by the printer before stepping out, only to find half of it gnawed up to smithereens along with the newspapers that we usually lay out for Buster J’s “comfort needs”. Yes, Buster J has turned House Pioneer upside-down and, for some strange reason, we’re…uh…happy about it. Haha. =D

Now, I had originally wanted to at least take the day off, but the crazy sched in the office made it impossible for me to do so. I had an FGD scheduled at 7:00 a.m., which I decided to skip and delegate in favor of a whole-day meeting with the Marketing Leadership Team and The Boss. And so it goes that Hubby Sweet and I just made arrangements to go with a quiet dinner somewhere we’ve never been to before. Plans to try 22 Prime @ the Discovery Suites were immediately scrapped in light of the MLT meeting and the “fearless forecast” that it would end no earlier than 7:00 p.m. With Serendra just two blocks away, we decided it was the perfect time to try Mamou’s Kitchen.

I have heard only good things about Mamou’s Kitchen. I also heard that they’re into “home-cooking”. It’s just that, I suppose, this type of home-cooking is only usually done in the hallowed halls of society’s upper echelons. Haha! I had mistakenly retained that “Mamou” refers to some elderly tita of the Aranetas, and that the menu served in the restaurant are meals usually served in the the Araneta Center Bahay na Bato (or is it Puti?). Basta, the ancestral home of the Aranetas, the Fores and the Roxases! Being the closet social-climber that I am (haha), that particular bit of trivia intrigued me. =)

The Hubby picked me up at 7:30 p.m. on the dot. Our reservation was for the 8:30 “second serving”. I opened the passenger door to find a huge bouquet of pink carnations, roses, mums and green flowers (I don’t know what they’re called) on a bed of tiny white ones. Love, love, LOVE (!) these kinds of arrangements. I prefer them to the all-rose bouquets. (Oh, but I think I already mentioned that before. =)) It’s just that they seem more fresh. More original. Less ostentatious. =)

We got to Mamou’s Kitchen in time to find some of the smaller tables free, despite the fact that we were about 40 minutes early. Yey! =) Imagine my surprise though to find out that Mamou is sooooo NOT an ancient tita, but a young, 30-something Malou Fores! (Yes, sister-in-law to the Gaita. =)) According to one of the articles posted on the wall, Mamou was apparently a name her nephew used to call her; for some strange reason, he can’t say Malou. Mamou stuck, and the rest, as they say, is history. (Hmmmmnnnn…..now, imagine if I had been culinary proficient! I could open a restaurant named Nangnang or Tita Toy. Haha! Uh…I think not. =))

As with all restaurants in Serendra, Mamou’s Kitchen is practically just a cozy nook that can sit no more than 50 people at a time. It’s both chic and homey with the dark wood and red leather upholstery blending well with the stainless steel counters, the wine bottles, the colorful glass vases and the upright chiller filled with steaks right in the middle of the dining area. I also liked that their tables and chairs were lower than the standard height—instantly raising the uniqueness level a notch higher. (I liked them, of course, because I’m petite. However, since the Hubby, who is 5’10” and all, did not complain, I suppose I can safely assume that it is not an issue with tall people as well. =))

Malou was there when we went. I’ve been told she is actually always there, supervising the kitchen, doing the cooking, running around serving dishes and chatting with the guests—as she would, I suppose, in her own home. The staff was very efficient and friendly. They were also very knowledgeable about the dishes, quickly answering our questions (or quickly running to the kitchen for the correct answers in case they didn’t know.)

Mamou is eager to please. The Hubby and I, for e.g., decided that we wanted to try both the Steak AND the Roast Pork & Chicken—the dishes that Mamou’s Kitchen is most known for. Instead of ordering the “sharing steak” size, therefore, we decided to just go with the single steak size (400g, around 14oz?), which when you think about it is really good enough for two. The steak goes with two sidings, and we decided to pair it with corn pudding and creamy spinach. Thing is, I like my steak medium-rare; the Hubby likes his medium-well. We asked if it was possible to cut the steak in half, and cook each half according to our very different preferences. After checking, the waiter came back and affirmed that, yes, it can be done. Yey! =) Soon after, however, Malou came out of the kitchen and I instantly went into panic mode, thinking that, “Oh, no! She’s going to tell me that cutting the steak up is a sacrilege and that it just ain’t done in the homes of the upper crust!” (Yes,I am prone to over-imagination, hahaha) Malou, however, simply went out to explain that she will not be cutting up the steak because “it’s sayang” so what she will do is cook it first to medium rare, then return the other portion until it is medium-well, etc., etc.. I did not understand much how she was going to do it. I suppose I was just happy that we will be getting what we want without having to sacrifice--as she put it--“the quality” of the steak. =D

Our drinks were served soon after we ordered--in practically no time at all. Watermelon Shake for me. Dalandan Crush for the Hubby. (No, the Hubby and I are NOT wine-drinkers. =)) Taking the first sip from each of our chosen bevs was particularly refreshing. Maybe it was the homey feel despite the obvious air of opulence. Maybe it was the the natural sweet taste of a cool drink after a long and hectic day at work. Maybe it was me and the Hubby out on a "real and proper date" for the first time in, uh, months. Haha. =) The drinks were definitely a good start.

Freshly-baked dinner rolls were served next. There was an option for those who prefer white rolls, as well as for those who prefer whole wheat rolls. Regardless of type, they were all very soft, chewy and warm. At first bite, I’m pretty sure I died and went to bread heaven. The rolls were—to borrow a line from an iconic ad campaign--“Uhmmm…Uhmmm….Good!" (^_^). They were, hands-down, the best dinner rolls I have ever tasted in my life! The Hubby and I finished them off in no time. On her way back to the Kitchen, Malou asked if we would like some more. How I wish I could have said, “YES!”, but I really wanted to leave room for the rest of the meal so I sadly declined. =(

In addition to the main dishes, the Hubby wanted something to warm his tummy. It was, after all, a rainy day. =) He decided to go with a half-order of Oriental Noodle Soup. (I wonder though what they use as reference for the serving sizes as this "half-serving" is actually big enough for the Hubby and me. =)) 'Am not entirely sure what the origin of the recipe was, but I'm guessing Vietnamese judging fromt the rice noodles and the little green stalks that give off a nutty-peppery taste, but I could be wrong because the soup was actually a bit spicy-sour (similar to Tom Yum). While it was good--especially after we added the Chili Sauce that Malou recommended--I suppose I was just not in the mood for soup, so I was not too hot about it. I wanted the meat. The steak. The beef! =D

The main dishes came soon enough and were served after Hubby Sweet finished off his soup. The Steak came first. Wonderfully marbled, perfectly charred, lying in a bed of olive oil and steak drippings. Half was bright red (my portion), while the other was amazingly medium-well. With it came the corn pudding and the creamy spinach. It took all of the Hubby's willpower NOT to devour the steak as I took pictures for the blog. Hahaha. =D

The Roasted Chicken & Pork were actually served almost at the same time, but I'd rather savor the steak first. It was juicy, cooked perfectly. It was the kind that can make you go, "Yes, this is sooooooooo worth it." =) The sidings were OK, but I'd have to be honest about the fact that the next time we go to Mamou's Kitchen, we'd probably order a different set entirely. The corn pudding was good, but it was too sweet to go with the steak. (It was almost like dessert!) The creamy spinach, while good, was also to...uh...creamy for my taste. I needed something to balance and complement the "richness" of the beef, and the sidings we chose were not exactly right for my purpose. That said, I decided to forego the sidings, and chose to eat the steak instead with the red rice and black beans that were served with the Roasted Chicken and Pork.

Ah, yes...the Roasted Chicken and Pork. Citrusy, herby. I can't exactly put my finger on what they put in the marinade to make it taste that good, but yes, it was absolutely divine. One can actually choose to get an all pork or all chicken platter. The Hubby and I unanimously decided that the next time we go, we'd go for the all-pork version. While the chicken was good, the pork is just sooooooo much better. Now, the entire plate did not make for a a pretty picture. I mean, it was a hodge-podge of chicken, pork and a mountain of red rice topped with sweet onions, cinnamon-caramel crusted banana fritters and black beans. It had a definite Cuban influence. Notwithstanding the absence of any hoity-toity foodstyling, there should be no argument here. The Roast Chicken & Pork is a winner! At P395, it was also relatively "budget-friendly". Soooooooooooo good. Sooooooooooo worth it. =)

Now, we had wanted to go for the whole shebang complete with the dessert, but we could not even finish the dishes we ordered. 'Am not sure if we ate too quickly or if we're now used to smaller portions given our new resolve to eat healthier or if the servings looked deceptively manageable until the combination of the different food settled in our stomachs. Before we could finish everything, both the Hubby and I were ready to burst at the seams. (Me more than him, haha...hay....=)) We would therefore have to go back to Mamou's Kitchen another day so that the Hubby can taste the heavenly Pecan Pie (which I had had the good fortune of earlier tasting with The Boss and the MLT), and so I can satisfy my curiousity regarding MK's much-talked-about-and-raved-about Key Lime Pie. =)

So there! A relatively low-key second anniversary celebration. =) The best part is coming home to an enthusiastic Buster J who couldn't stop running to and fro, bouncing up and down in obvious glee that the Hubby and I were home. Yey! =) I tried to get a picture of him with the flowers and the Mamou doggy bag for posterity, but it was all for naught. I couldn't get him to sit still long enough. Hay! Yes, yes. I suppose, he'd really rather get up and smell the flowers. Haha! 'D

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If you want to try out Mamou's Kitchen, it would be best to reserve your seats before you go. For dinner, they have "two seatings". The first is from 6:30-8:20 p.m.; the second is from 8:30-closing time. I don't know what the seating scheds are for lunch.

Call 8563569 or 0917-8162668 for reservations. =)

HIS NAME IS BUSTER JOHNSON! / JUNE 25,2008 =D

With our second anniversary coming up in about three weeks, Hubby Sweet and I had to decide on what we were going to do for Anniversary Year 2.

Should we take another trip somewhere?

With us having bought a bigger, more family-sized unit recently (which will only be available in October next year), and with the Baby Project hanging over our heads, however, we knew that all plans for an out-of-the-country trip would have to be deferred. (Goodbye, Beijing Olympics! Waaaaaaaaaahhhhhh!!!).

It would be pretty tough, however, to top the recent butanding experience with another local trip so I thought we'd give travel a rest (FOR NOW =)).

"We should get a dog," I texted the hubby, off the top of my head, "A small one so he won't feel cramped inside the unit."

"Let's name him Johnson," he replied. Haha! 'D (Family joke. Long story. =))

We did not even have a discussion about whether we should get one or not. The Hubby has been bugging me for a dog since last year when they started allowing pets in House Pioneer. (Prior to this, his first ever Christmas gift to me would have been a beagle. At that time, we weren't even BF/GF yet and he did not know that pets were not allowed at my place. Before he could deliver it to me, his best friend Riki, who lived in the other tower, told him that I will not be allowed to keep it. And so it came to past that on that year, Then-Suitor-Pa-Lang-Sweet went home to his provincial ancestral home with beagle in tow--now repositioned as a Christmas gift to his parents. Haha! 'D)


Discussion #1: I wanted a small dog. Hubby Sweet kept telling me to look at pictures of Golden Retrievers, Great Danes, Labradors and, goodness, French Mastiffs! "They're friendly," he said. "Yes," I countered, "They're also bigger than our house."

Discussion #2: I wanted a small dog. Maybe a shih tzu or a pekingese. I grew up with 2 pekingeses who believed they had the same birth right as I did in House Better. Haha! Being royal dogs, pekingeses can be spoiled brats, but they can also be adorable-to-the-max. When Benji and Sugar died (not at the same time of course), we all found ourselves in extreme mourning. Having a pet die in House Better is like having a real member of the family pass away. (There is actually a corner in the garden that we used to call the "Sacred Ground". Every November 1, as kids, we also lit candles for all our dogs who passed away. Haha! 'D) In High School, my friends and classmates would actually laugh because in the middle of class, tears would start streaming down my cheeks. "What's wrong?" they would ask. "Namatay aso ko," I would reply, at which point, they would all guffaw. They just didn't get it.


After Benji and Sugar died, Mother decided she wanted a shih tzu. Her name was Princess and she gave birth to Pattie, Scud, Patriot and Pancho. (They were born during the Gulf war, =)). Pattie got traded off for Trendy (who also answers to Friendly or any other name that ends in "y", haha!). Pattie was a Princess black-&-white carbon-copy; Trendy was brown and white like her mom--who belonged to the same breeder as Pattie's dad. Mother intended to sell off the pups, but only managed to sell one. In the end, she decided she couldn't sell the rest. She loved them too much. Scud was "given as a gift" to my cousin J (who was Mother's inaanak). Pancho was "sold" to our next door neighbors in House Loyola (where I stayed during my college years). They begged (!) to have him, even mounting a "party" on the day we gave Pancho to them. A few months later saw me asking Ate Inday to bring P10,000 back to our neighbors in exchange for getting Pancho back. The novelty of a new pup has gone, and they were not treating him right, and if they will not hold their end of the bargain to treat him like family, they can shove their money up their stupid, mean @*#. Lech. >:\ They accepted the money; we got our dog back. By that time, Pancho had turned from a sweet, adorable pup into a broken, angry, bitter dog. It took some time before we could "heal" the anger out of him. Weeks and months of nurturing eventually made him believe he can "trust" people again. He actually reverted back to his sweet nature, but you just know he was never really the same. To the very end, he was sweet only to us, but no longer to those he considered as non-family or strangers. Hay.... =(

In between the pekingeses and the shih tzus were the mongrels (among them JInky! =)), a japanese spitz (Snowball, of course! haha) and Buttons (who was part shih tzu, part maltese, "purong aso" hahaha). We loved them all like family. (Sorry, couldn't post pics of the rest. The pics are in House Better and I haven't scanned them yet!)

Did I digress? =D Anyway!

I wanted small dog, but the Hubby did not want a pekingese nor a shih tzu. He suspected (quite correctly) that he would end up walking the dog more often than I would, and he did not want to walk around with a "frou-frou" kind of dog at the end of his leash. Hahaha! 'D O, sya, sya. =D After researching online, we finally chanced upon the one dog that seemed perfect for our situation. A mini schnauzer. Yes, we decided, we will get a mini-schnauzer. =) (Click on the link if you want to know why we decided on it. =))

Everyone, meet BUSTER JOHNSON!!! =D

We found Buster online through a link in Pet Finder. =) We did not want to get a dog from a pet shop, believing that dogs raised by breeders are not only of better quality, they would also tend to be more loved. We found Chico-Poms, and among all the rest, I was most impressed by the fact that before they answer your queries about the dog you want to purchase, they actually ask you a series of questions about the conditions under which you will be raising the dog you intend to buy. They wanted to make sure that their puppies will only go to good homes, they said. "Soul mates!", I thought. Haha!

We got a quick reply from K soon after I submitted our forms. We went to see our pup on the same day we got the reply. We brought him home that same night.

After a quick trip to Tiendesitas for a few essentials (and quite a few non-essentials, haha), we finally arrived in House Pioneer for Buster's first night in his new home. YEY! =)

By the time we got him, however, he was already 4 months old and already knew his name to be Buster. Johnson would therefore have to be relegated to his second name. BUSTER JOHNSON. Parang goon. Haha! 'D

He was shy at first, but eventually warmed up, walking around the unit, probably wondering about what strange place he has found himself in. His nails clicked on the wood laminate all night as he alternately walked around, stopped, and run around playing with the Hubby's old tennis balls. Not used to having another living thing in House Pioneer other than each other, the all-night clicking on the floors kept Hubby Sweet and I up all night. Hay....It was like having a little baby, except that this one did not cry. =) I was practically a zombie at work the following day. It did not help that everyone kept on asking me, "Puyat ka?" HAHAHA! Ack. =)

During our visit to the OB last week, our OB told us NOT to get a dog before we have a child. She said there was no scientific evidence for it, but she suspects couples get distracted too much by the dog, they forget about getting down to the business of having a child. Haha! After the first night, I would have to consider this as practice. Man! How could I not?! =D

Early the following day, I heard from Hubby Sweet the one thing I have also once heard from Sister Pusjing and Cousin Tiririt about their respective husbands, G-Genius and cousin-in-law V.

"Tweet," he said, looking confused, apologetic and hopeful all at the same time, "uh.....nag-poop sya."

I was in the bathroom brushing my teeth at the time. "So? Pick it up," I said, not really understanding what the big deal was.

"I don't know how to pick up poop."

Yeah, right! HAHAHA!

Hay!

Men....! =D