Bella's Belly

Remember the shih-tzu I rescued? She's so pretty! Things were moving along very well. An American military family who lives up in Seoul contacted me, very interested in Bella. They already have a shih-tzu they adopted from Animal Rescue Korea and with four kids and a mom who stays home, I knew it would be a great match for Bella. She's a very loving dog and really loves attention.

The Friday before last, we brought her into the animal hospital to get her a summer hair cut. I had wanted to wait, thinking that she might not get adopted as easily if she looked like a rat, but it turns out she's a pretty little girl under all that fur!



When I went to pick her up, I saw that her fur had also been hiding some massive nipples on her belly. I pointed at them and asked, "Is she pregnant?"
"No. Ande."
"Really? And she's never had babies before?"
The nurse confirmed she hadn't. I asked what was up, then, with the big knockers - and was told that she wanted babies.

Oh!

So I later googled something about dogs wanting babies and discovered that indeed, unspayed females can conjure up phantom puppies in their bellies.



"And the bitch was all 'I gotz me some ghost babies! Boo!' (Yaka!)"

So, okay. I agreed to have Bella spayed down here before I brought her up to Seoul on Saturday to meet her new family. My boss took her in Thursday morning and the vet expressed surprise at how seriously Bella was growing up her phantom puppies in her belly. One ultra-sound later and guess what? The ghosts are not so much ghostly as they are actually. Puppies. Fur realz.

One week later,....



"But he was so sweet, and promised he would still love me in the morning!"

So we didn't know quite what to do. My boss and co-workers (and the vet) thought I was sort of a monster for suggesting a spay/abortion sort of thing, but turns out Bella's quite far along and it could be dangerous for her, as you'd imagine. On the other hand, if they'd confirmed her pregnancy over three weeks ago when I'd brought her in for health tests and asked if she was pregnant - and told no,...the spay wouldn't have been an issue because the puppies would have been tiny. They wouldn't have even known she was pregnant before they operated.

I LOVE animals - and puppies!! Well, who doesn't love puppies?! But with so many dogs being put down at shelters everyday, and so many dogs roaming around Korea without homes, what we don't need is more puppies. Still, I would never want to risk the safety of any animal, so if the vet says no-go, then okay.


"It's okay. You can haz puppies."

So Bella's been moved to my bosses' mother's house out in the country. It's not the first time that she's overseen dog labour and birth. I'm glad that Bella's being watched so closely, and know that she'll be taken to the vet's if there are any complications, which there could be. Since only Bella knows who the papa is, she might be growing some big puppies in her belly. It could be troublesome. Fingers crossed everything goes well, and soon!

Hopefully the family who decided to adopt her won't change their mind while they wait for her to nurse her babies until they're ready to be adopted. So one down and, according to the vet, maybe four or five more to go.

Anyone want a cute little puppy in a couple months?

Sauced

This is what Kamikaze looks like when I'm drunk *hic* he's drunk *hic* we're drunk. We're so drunk.


*Hic*
He can haz soju?

Hey, What's Up?

I'm not sure what was going on under this little tent.


But, I was very tempted to smush my way into the crowd saying in rapid-fire English, "Hey what's going on in here? What are you guys looking at? Is something for sale? Is it something good? Can I have some? What's the deal?"

I wonder how long it would have taken for them to scatter.

Scene Below My Balcony

I came home tonight and Kamikaze the Cat was waiting on the inside mat to lovingly greet me with meows and kitty-licks to lumber outside and roll in the corridor. Downstairs, I could hear some Korean men brawling? fighting? speaking at normal Korean late-night volume arguing. Yes. They were definitely arguing.

I peeked my head over the side to spy check it out. Below me there was a taxi driver and some guy. Taxi Guy held Some Guy by the sleeve of his shirt. I was thinking they were probably arguing about the fare. Maybe the guy hadn't paid. I watched awhile longer and realized that the passenger was drunkity-drunk-drunk. He didn't protest at the taxi driver's grip on his shirt, probably because that was the only thing preventing him from reeling to the pavement. I also realized that the argument wasn't about the fare, but rather that Drunk Guy had left Taxi Man a little present in the back seat - a nice pile of puke. Taxi Man was insisting that Drunk Guy should stumble to his apartment and fetch some cleaning supplies and get to work.

I smiled, knowing that the likelihood of that happening was zilch. I was betting that as soon as Taxi Man let go of Drunk Guys collar there would be some falling and shortly thereafter, some snoring. But Taxi Man was persistent, and Drunk Guy was denying he'd barfed in the cab. Their shouting match went like this:
"I din't puke smmsnallshiisekkshi"
"YOU DID TOO! IT'S RIGHT THERE!"
"Wheeere shmmmshillla *hic!*"
"RIGHT THERE! IN THE BACKSEAT!"
"No. Opseyo. Thereesh nuthing."
"ISSOYO! LOOK!"
"Where?"
"RIGHT THERE! LOOK! HERE!" and he tried to shove Drunk Guy's head into the cab.

Things continued like that until finally Drunk Guy got frustrated and pretty much fell into the back of the cab to investigate. He then lurched out of the cab upright with his hands cupping a pile of puke, which he placed on the top of the cab.

Taxi Man lost his mind, pretty much - but didn't want to come near Drunk Guy now that his hands here covered in vomit. He screamed bloody murder while he slammed all the doors, inserted himself into the driver's seat, and screeched backwards out of the parking lot.

Drunk Guy wobbled curiously for just a few moments before he fell into the bushes.

Shicken

I went to this restaurant the other night that offered burn-your-face-off chicken. It's called Hong-Cho Bool Dak, and it's a franchise. If you're in Korea you might want to check it out. The chicken comes out all hot and fiery on a skillet. We had two versions, and I thought the mozzarella on the one dish would cut down on the spiciness, but it actually seemed hotter. I'm not sure why, but I thought our frosty bottle of soju really paired wonderfully with the meal. I was either too busy wiping tears from my fire face or downing shots that I seem to have not taken any pictures of our meal.

The menu does have some other exciting things on offer, though.


Not a little bit of wellbeing. Nor a decent sized amount. These pumpkin wedges are a MASS of wellbeing!


These fishes' balls escaped from the red and blue oceans and they've got a story to tell. It's castrantastic.


Chewy! Like Gummy! Yummy Chewy Gummy Chicken Feet! Num Num Num!

Ol' Fuzzy Face

We Will Rock You

My brother called me this morning. He sounded serious.

He started, "Lori" (his wife) "and I had very long debate this morning."

"Really?" I asked. I was sort of worried. My family has been going through some tough times lately. Hatfield and McCoy type shit, only we're the hyphenated version. Same-same.

"What were you talking about?" I asked, uneasy at his answer.

"We were arguing whether a city could actually be built on rock n' roll. Lori says no."

"Ummmmm. I think she's wrong!" I said.

" I KNOW!" He explained, "We could live in speakers. Cars can roll around on drums. There can be keyboard-boats. Xylophones and glockenspiels will be the roads and sidewalks."

"Xylophones and glockenspiels aren't very rock n' roll."

"Oh, whatever. They can rock."

"I suppose. I can see YES or Floyd employing them. Besides, the argument is moot, really. Starship already Built a City on Rock n' Roll. Doesn't Lori realize that?"

"I KNOW!!" he shouted. "That song rocks. They should play it on the radio. All the time. Only that song. Over and over."

"I KNOW!" I agreed.

"They could play the original at the top of the hour and then follow it with every band covering it. Every single band."

"Exactly! And there could be various stations. A classical station with orchestral versions."

"Right? And a county western station with twangy hoe-down versions."

"Seriously, man. Someone should get on that."

"I'M GETTING ON IT" Jeff shouted. "Right after I start BUILDING ANOTHER CITY!"

Knick Knack Paddy Whack...

FIND A DOG A HOME!
Again!

A couple weeks ago another dog showed up at my school. Well, really - dogs show up all the time. However, the one that showed up a couple weeks ago had obviously been someone's pet at some point. She's a shih-tzu, and although she was dirty and skinny, she had been groomed at some point. Her fur was in an overgrown "puppy-cut" style.

I scooped the dog up and brought her to the supermarket, where I'd been heading when I came downstairs and in addition to the ice cream I bought for a couple students, I grabbed some dog food. Upstairs in an empty classroom, the dog wolfed it all down and lapped up the cold water I'd brought her and then lay down for a rest. Meanwhile, my boss started calling around and eventually arranged to have someone from the pound pick her up. I was told she'd stay there ten days hoping they could re-unite her with her owner. I suppose I could have just left it at that, but I kept thinking about her little face and how relieved she'd seemed when I picked her up. At the supermarket she'd sighed in my arms, a deep shuddering sigh - before she nestled her chin against my arm.

I hate the idea that she was belonged to someone and either got lost, or was more likely abandoned. So when the shelter called to say she hadn't been claimed, I sort of insisted I get her back. The shelter guy warned against it, apparently "Bella" (the name I'd settled on in my head) was fussy and would only eat "meat." ("As opposed to what?" I wondered. A bowl of lint and pebbles?) She was fine eating dog food. I don't think it's right to euthanize her just because she doesn't want to eat rice and/or kimchi.

So Bella came back last Thursday, and my boss reluctantly agreed to foster her "only for ONE WEEK!" while I search for a new home. Early next week I'm taking her to my vet to get some tests done and vaccinations started to ensure she's healthy. She's so cute.



I've already had a couple people express some interest. There's an American family up in Seoul who say they've been looking for an adult dog. They've got a nice house with a backyard in a quiet neighbourhood and there's usually someone home throughout the day. They sound ideal, and so, fingers crossed I'll head up to Seoul next weekend so they can meet.



You know what's weird? My boss actually LOST his shih-tzu just three days before Bella showed up. His dog was named Dalki, and she got loose when his daughter brought the dog to his (almost ex) wife's house in aother city. He's really torn up about it and not ready to have another dog, but I think his heartache lended toward helping me save Bella.



This will be the second dog I've "rescued." Remember Wonder Dog? He's now living in Canada with a big family who dotes on him. Such a difference from when he first showed up.

Wonder Dog (now named Kaibee) enjoying a wonderful life:


Let's hope Bella is destined for a beautiful furture as well!

I'm Rambly because Achoo

My co-worker told me at the start of a class last week that one of my students had thrown up three times earlier in the day, and she really wasn't feeling well so if she needed to go, I should let her head to the washroom. I stopped and said "Uhhh, ok. But, I really don't want to get sick."
My co-worker laughed at me.
"I'm serious, Cindy. The kid sits right beside me." and I nodded toward where the little girl sat with her hand clenched over her mouth. In the classroom I spend a lot of the time standing at the board or leaning at the bureau where the CD player lives, but I do sit when the kids are working on stuff or if I have to mark. I'm at the end of the table which is formed into a semi-circle. A small half circle - and I've usually got students on either side of me. They're as close to me as if we were sitting next to each other on a bus - but it's even worse because they're angled to exhale (or cough, sneeze or *gag* barf) directly into the airspace that I'm inhaling.

I feel like I'm turning into Jack Nicholson in "As Good as it Gets," (Hi, Mark?) but I really hate getting sick. I'm washing my hands all the time and using alcoholy sanitizer when I don't have time to hit the Ladies' between classes and still, I actually wish I was teaching from inside a plexi-glass box. Or an air-conditioned Hazmat suit.

Dr. Cindy said, "You won't get sick. Maybe she just ate something not good."
"Orrrr," I countered, "Maybe she's got a wicked stomach flu. Seriously, can we move her for today?" (To, like, home?) So Cindy got the girl to move to the far end of the table just for the day, which was fine. It got me thinking back to my childhood when throwing up throughout the night, before school, or (all over your most favourite red plaid kilt and white tights in grade two) in school automatically earned you a stay-home-from-school-and-watch-cartoons card. No questions.

That's not often the case here, and I resent it. I think many of my students' parents are working and I know that Koreans drag their own sick bodies to work all the time when by all rights they should be staying home and getting better instead of infecting their co-workers. So it stands to reason they're probably not going to take time off to look after their sick children - and instead send them off to infect ME.

Look at these kids:

They're tiny. I can almost fit them in my pocket. Both of them. In one pocket.
They could live in my shoes. Both of them. In one shoe.

Anyways they're in grade one. They're six years old. Tiny little humans.
And THIS is the girl's bag!
It's REALLY HEAVY and I'm surprised she can carry it without toppling over. This isn't her only bag, either - she's got another one with her Taekwondo uniform and a few more books, because apparently she can only fit EIGHTEEN books into the pink knapsack!

You know what I carried around in my knapsack when I was six years old? Nothing! Because I didn't have a knapsack. I had a Holly Hobby lunchbox with a sandwich in it. That was my homework. Eat the sandwich.

That little girl goes from school to an "all subject" hagwon, to our English school, to Taekwondo and then for a piano lesson. Her parents run a very busy sushi restaurant. They're very nice people, but I still feel bad when their little girl knocks her forehead against the desk because she's unable to keep her eyes open and stay awake. Today she was coughing and sniffling, looking miserable. And that made two of us. There's something going around. In the next class, both students on either side of me were sick. The one who kept coughing without covering his mouth got moved.

I had a very sore throat Sunday and Monday and I should have realized that tends to be the first symptom I get when I'm about to get sick - but I hadn't really thought about it. Sure enough,...my temperature is 102 right now and I've got fire face/lungs. Can't breathe. Still, my sneezes feel like sinus-orgasms.

When my eight o'clock class ended today I schlepped to the washroom and after, as I was washing my hands, I noticed something in the mirror. I brushed my hair off my forehead and panicked, "Oh man, I'm really sick! What the hell?" There were angry red circles about the size of the end of a cigarette from my right temple down to beside my eye. Typhoid? Ebola? Holy shit! I brought my fingers up to feel the spots.

Oh.
They come off.

While marking my middle-school students' tests, I'd been tapping the side of my head with my thin red crayon.
Idiot.