Search for Heaven

[Author's Note: This was inspired by a friend and dedicated to WYF who said "I want to search for my heaven."]

I have been searching for my heaven. I’m not sure if I’d find it but I hope I do. I imagine my heaven to be quiet with flowers and beaches that have clear water. The fine white sand and sandcastles being built.

Families bonding at the beach playing games like beach volleyball or Frisbee. Dogs that bark warnings in the games, chasing the flying discs. Bunnies that are fed by hand and hopping freely all over the green grasses.

Buildings are clean and repaired frequently. The cleaners are proud of their cleaning skills and are well paid accordingly. The parks and gardens are well-kept with the flowers flourishing.

“Karlyn! What are you doing?” a voice breaks into my thoughts. Darn! Mom’s in a lousy mood today. “Karlyn Yang! You better come here now!” sighing, I drag myself from the comfortable bed to the living room. She looks red.

Here we go. I don’t understand why Mom makes a major ruckus whenever Poopy makes a poop pile in the living room. I can’t be always be around to check on him. She didn’t want me to train Poopy and look what happened. He started to make the living room his bathroom. Who can he blame? Me or Mom? Obviously all the fingers point to me. I was the one who insisted on bringing a stray mongrel home and look at what had happened.

Sigh. Life is unfair. I always get blamed. I wonder what I’m being blamed for this time.

“Karlyn! Look at the door! See what it has done!” I looked at the door, it has always been the same old door. There’s nothing special about it now. “Look at the bottom!” Mmom’s sentences always end with exclamation marks when she’s very angry.

I follow her instructions. Poopy had out-done himself this time. Not only had he scratched a hole for big enough for a mouse, he had also pooped and urinated at the door. Not only does yours truly have to clean up, a replacement had to done too. Now I should seriously consider giving him away to someone who can train him. I just hope the person doesn’t end up putting him into the hot pot.

—

I’m trying to toilet train Poopy but so far progress is nearly, well, nil. It’s so depressing. However, I certainly do not want to be cleaning up after being screamed at every single time Poopy decides to mark his territory. “Poopy. Here!” it’s time to exercise my authority, it seems to be working.

He pads towards the spot where my finger is pointing, wagging his tail and looks at me in anticipation. I continue to point to the spot until he reaches it. “Poopy, sit!” He does nothing except hanging his tongue out and wags his tail harder. “SIT!” I try again, louder. He winced and steps back a little. I have never spoken to him so loudly before and I sense that he is a little unsure. I sigh inwardly. This is going to be a long, long day.

I can’t wait for my bath. It was tiring to train Poopy to sit. He came when called but refused to sit. I wish that my heaven will have dogs that obey you when specific instructions are given. Please God, show me my heaven soon.

—

“KARLYN YANG!”, Mom screams at the top of her lungs. Poopy must have done something to incur her wrath. He’s starting to annoy me with his endless ways to pepper the house with his poops. I walk towards the source of the scream. There is another hole in the door, this time it’s bigger, fit for a kitten to walk through. I wonder how and what makes him want to dig holes into doors. The door has not been replaced and he has managed to destroy another part of it. It’s a good thing because I don’t have to spend twice on replacement doors.

Poopy looks at me cocking his head to one side, an attempt to stop me from scolding him. Usually he never fails to make my heart melt but this time, it’s too much. I get blamed for his ways to destroy the door and daily routine. Being screamed at everytime I’m home is not the way to live. I don’t want a dog that refused to be trained and poops all over the house. I’m sick of getting blamed for his antics! He’s scared of a smaller sized dog than him and I can’t believe that chihuahua is able to bark him down.

—

I have found my heaven. It’s peaceful here. No one’s screaming at me. The sun is shining brightly, the waves crashing softly on the white sand and the children are playing with their parents. Teenagers are playing beach volleyball and an old couple is feeding each other. I am sunbathing and enjoying the fruit punch that Honey has brought to me. “Honey!”

She runs to me, panting from her exertion with the Frisbee rounds.