eutony

Lucy. LucyLouLou. LouLouBelle. Pupsicle. BabyGirl. Moppet. I love the names I’ve given her, and funny enough, she answers to all of them, humouring this idiotic human trait in her mumma. 

I never liked the name Lucy before I met my Lucy. She has been true to her name, she has brought light to me. She is light in so many ways. She makes me laugh out loud, even when I am in the darkest throes of pain, with antics that I would never allow in a human. For example, her scrunching up of our bed covers, creating a giant mound, then flopping onto it with a loud huff. She does this to indicate her displeasure, when I do or have done something that she does not appreciate. She isn’t a messy or dirty girl, unlike countless other dogs, but she does create a tornado when she plays with her toys in bed. Unfortunately, bed is the only safe space for her to play in – we live in such a tiny studio flat, smaller than a hotel room, and our double mattress on the floor is all she has to move around in freely without threat of injury.

My brain has decided to enjoy the sound, rhythm and alliteration of the endearments that are Lucy’s names. Even when the ulcers hurt so much that I cannot speak out loud, just voicing them in my mind bears such pleasant resonance!

A similarly sonic-physical relationship happens when I am preparing food. I made vegetarian rice paper rolls for dinner. It was an interesting kinetic-tactile-sonic experience: the feel of the knife, the board, the food matter, both very contrasting in taste and consistency, the sounds of cutting and slicing cucumber and carrot, the cucumber slimy and wet to the touch, while carrot remains dry and crisp on the cutting board. Then there is the rice vermicelli, slithery dancing strands of solidified rice starch, almost alive in the fingers. The texture of the rice paper is fascinating – when one takes it out of the wrapper, it is stiff and brittle. After placing the sheet in running water for awhile, it becomes soft, pliable and tacky. Making the rolls is fun – one needs to plan carefully where to place the ingredients so that the translucent paper will reveal the colourful filling, and then the rolling has to be done with precision too, in order to achieve a nicely snug roll. Lucy kept me company throughout, lying on the fluffy fuchsia rug, and I engaged her in a one-way conversation. She doesn’t mind, in fact, I think she likes it when I chat with her. Ah and yes, I do love repeating her names. They are music to my tongue and ears, reverberating even through my fingertips as I am getting my food ready. 🙂 And no, I do not talk to her about my problems, she is more worthy of better conversation than that!

Romanticising? Nah. Just a parallel existence. Try it sometime, you might like it too.

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