Guided by light, driven by dreams, and ready to fly.

Tag: #BadoodleLife

  • Summit of the Buzzing Nations

    (Susan & Oishi — The Blue Fly Incident)

    Susan (Narrating)

    I couldn’t sleep last night because of the buzzing.
    Not the cute kind of buzzing like “Oh wow, I’m excited to live my life.”
    No. This was the evil kind. The kind that goes:

    bzzzbzzzbzz… right when you’re about to fall asleep and dream about Macchismo.

    I covered my head with pillows.
    Counted a million sheep.
    Threatened the universe.
    Finally… I fell asleep.

    Saturday morning, though? Joy. Healing. Restoration.

    Oishi and I woke up excited because there’s a new burger restaurant across the street. Like, brand new, fresh signage, blessed aroma, the kind of place where you feel God smiling at you through bacon grease.

    We hurried over and bought the most savory, tastiest, “I deserve this” kind of quarter pounder burger… with fries.

    We decided to take it to go so we could eat at home while watching our favorite show:
    The Detective Agency.

    Because what’s better than a burger?

    A burger + crime solving + emotional support dog + me silently thirsting over Rhys Halden.

    Oishi (Narrating)

    I woke up with my heart pounding.

    Sus told me yesterday there’s a new restaurant with a mouthwatering burger and we’d go today, and then I realized—

    Today is today.

    My tail was wagging like a fan in summer.
    I could already taste it: big patty, bacon, cheese, the kind of burger that makes you forgive your enemies.

    Also, Sus has been giving me only kibble lately because “I gained weight.”
    Hello?
    Have you looked in the mirror, Susan?

    Anyway. We went to the restaurant. Ordered the biggest, most glorious quarter pounder burger with bacon.

    We took it home because Sus likes to eat while watching Rhys Halden. She always goes:

    “Badoodle… he’s dangerously handsome. Look at his jawline. Look at those muscles.”

    And I’m like:
    Please stop.
    This is a family home.

    Susan (Narrating)

    We got home and I kicked my shoes off so fast they left my body spiritually.
    Oishi did zoomies like a madman.

    We sat on the couch.
    I pulled the burger out of the bag in slow motion like it was an award ceremony.

    I unwrapped it.

    The patty, the bacon, the cheese… the tomatoes peeking out like they were proud to be there.

    I cut it in half and gave Oishi his share.

    We were about to bite…

    …and a fly landed on my burger.

    Not just any fly.

    A blue fly.

    A bold, entitled, “I pay rent here” kind of blue fly.

    And it wasn’t even acting scared. It landed on the burger like it was doing a yoga pose.

    Like:
    Namastay away from your lunch.

    Oishi (Narrating)

    I saw it.

    A fly.

    On Susan’s burger… and mine.

    The audacity.

    I barked at the top of my lungs.
    My soul almost left my body.

    I jumped—don’t judge me, I’m not a horse, I’m a baby—and I didn’t even reach 2 feet off the ground.

    That fly was fast. It flew around like it was mocking us.
    Then it landed on the lampshade.
    On the TV.
    On utensils.
    DISGUSTING.

    And the worst part?

    It landed on our toothbrush.

    And I swear it was smiling.

    Susan (Narrating)

    I couldn’t take it anymore.

    So I did what any responsible adult would do.

    I watched a “How to Catch an Annoying Fly” tutorial on YouTube.

    Oishi and I huddled like military strategists.

    Operation: Blue Fly Trap.

    I placed a jar on its side on the kitchen table.

    Then Oishi bit biscuits and scattered the crumbs like a trail.

    We hid behind the fridge.
    Like spies.
    Like heroes.

    The fly followed the crumbs into the jar…

    …and the second it went inside, I slammed the lid shut.

    TRAPPED.

    Finally.
    That entitled flying menace was contained.

    We cleaned up, then went back to the restaurant and bought burgers again.

    Because yes—our trauma has a budget.

    We sat in front of the jar while eating.

    The fly looked miserable.

    We chewed in slow motion to add emotional damage.

    Susan (Narrating)

    Three days passed.

    I forgot about the trapped fly. Honestly, I was busy living my life.

    Then one afternoon… while washing dishes, I heard buzzing and tapping at the kitchen window.

    I looked up.

    And I froze.

    There were blue flies.

    Plural.

    They had banners.

    One banner said: JUSTICE FOR FLY.
    One fly had a headband like a union leader.
    One held a fist symbol like they were about to overthrow capitalism.
    One held a heart symbol… with the blue fly’s face like a political campaign.

    I almost felt sorry.

    Then I saw the trapped fly inside the jar…

    …holding a tiny phone.

    And it was calling for reinforcements.

    Oh. So you’re not a victim.
    You’re a mob boss.

    Oishi wouldn’t stop barking like his baby bark could end a revolution.

    And then something rose inside me.

    My inner villain.

    I laughed.

    BWAHAHAHAHAHA.

    Because I knew exactly what to do.

    I reached for the Baygon.

    The kitchen turned into a Last Stand movie.

    Susan & Badoodle on one side…
    The Fly Nation on the other.

    I lifted the can.

    They started trembling.

    The trapped fly looked HORRIFIED.
    He knew his entire clan was about to be deleted from existence.

    Then—

    He waved a white flag.

    A banner dropped at the window:

    PEACE TREATY.

    I paused.

    Oishi paused.

    Even my villain side paused.

    Oishi (Narrating)

    Our kitchen looked like a world summit.
    Like smart people were there.
    Like we were about to solve international conflict.

    I cleared my throat and announced:

    “Peace talks will commence in a few minutes.”

    The blue fly started talking like, “I didn’t mean to intrude—”

    I cut him off.

    “Yes you did.”

    He sighed. “Alright. You got me. Yes, I did.”

    Then he said something that hit Sus right in the guilt.

    “I’ve been smelling leftover food.”

    And suddenly I remembered.

    Sus loves Christmas parties because she always brings home leftovers saying:

    “Oishi, this will last a week! We don’t need to cook!”

    But she doesn’t store them properly.

    Susan’s face turned red.

    She whispered, “I was tired, Oishi. I didn’t clean the fridge. And I missed taking out the garbage last Wednesday.”

    My paw went straight to my forehead.

    The fly promised they wouldn’t bother us again if we fix the situation.

    Another fly typed the treaty notes.

    They handed us a tiny peace document.

    I stamped my paw print.

    Susan signed.

    The flies buzzed in agreement like:
    Bzz bzz, we accept your terms.

    Later that day, Sus cleaned the house for three hours.

    Everything was spotless.
    Squeaky clean.
    Smelled like Zonrox and repentance.

    Then we went back to the burger restaurant.

    Because we deserved healing.

    We ordered our quarter pounder bacon cheese melt burger again.

    And then Susan said:

    “Oishi… I forgot my wallet.”

    Classic Sus.

    The end.

    Still Rising. Still Barking 🐾

  • The Life I Almost Lived (Without My Dog Therapist)

    “This one’s special. It’s about longing, dreams and the furball who made real life better than fantasy”

    Susan (narrating)

    “Boss, I need your signature here.”

    “Boss, what’s our marketing strategy for the judgmental side-eyeing Shih Tzu?”

    “Boss, the episode ‘Two Brains, One Dog, and Zero Life Plans’ is up by 213 percent — the viewers love it!”

    “Boss, what’s our agenda for today?”

    My office is on the top floor of Ventura Co. It’s big — clean, minimalist, beautiful. I can write in peace with no distractions. I’m the Marketing VP / Director / Editor of Ventura Co., and the creator of two hit shows: The Detective Agency and Tina & Pochi.

    Tina is a dramatic woman who eats her feelings. Pochi is her judgmental dog.

    My favorite’s the latter.

    There’s something about that story I keep coming back to. Something about him.

    Despite everything I have — the career, the success, the big apartment, the attractive face and body, even a handsome boyfriend — I go home every night and feel… empty. Incomplete. Like I’m living someone else’s life.

    But when I write about Tina and Pochi?

    I feel whole.

    Because Pochi loves Tina. He’s loyal. And somewhere deep down, I think I’m trying to write a life I missed.

    Tonight, I called my boyfriend.

    “Cinema?” I asked.

    “Busy,” he said, headset on, playing whatever with his friends.

    At least Pochi is always with Tina.

    And here I am again. Alone. Quiet.

    Empty.

    Oishi (narrating)

    I woke up and looked around. Two dogs were snoring beside me. My parents, apparently.

    I always forget their names.

    Ah, yes. Mustard and Ketchup.

    Mom and Dad.

    But there’s one name I keep forgetting — the one that matters.

    It starts with an “S.”

    Anyway, the usual: walk around the park, sniff some tails, hang out with my barksties.

    It’s… fine. Fun, I guess.

    But something’s off.

    I don’t like sniffing other dogs’ butts. There. I said it.

    And I love my parents, I really do…

    But I feel like I’m supposed to be somewhere else. With someone else.

    Sometimes I dream I’m wearing glasses.

    Sometimes I feel naked without a red scarf.

    Sometimes I wake up with the feeling of being scooped — carried, kissed, bathed (ugh).

    And there’s this hooman voice in my head — loud, weird, kinda goat-like when she sings.

    I miss her.

    Even if I’ve never met her.

    Yet.

    Somewhere in Their Dreams — A Prayer

    Susan (in dream narration):
    Lord, I am living a good life.
    Everything looks perfect.
    I’m at the top of my game.
    I have a job, a name, even a man…

    But I feel lonely. And empty.
    Can You send me someone who stays?
    Someone loyal. Soft.
    Who looks at me like I’m the best thing that’s ever happened to him —
    and let me do the same?

    Oishi (in doggo prayer):
    God and Mighty Paw,
    Thank you for park and food and tail sniffs.

    But I miss someone.
    Someone who scooped me.
    Who put on my glasses and red scarf.
    Who sang weird songs and kissed my head.

    Can You send me my hooman?
    The loud one with a goat voice.
    I promise to love her forever —
    and maybe let her win tug-of-war… sometimes.

    Some prayers don’t need words. Only hearts that ache in the same direction.

    The Park – Collision Point

    I was lost in thought when I saw her.

    A woman. Beautiful. Hair tied up in a bun. Sitting on a park bench, crying.

    Something inside me sparked.

    I ran toward her.

    She looked at me like she knew me.

    She scooped me up, still crying — and I was crying too.

    She held me close.

    I rested my head on her shoulder.

    She wiped my tears, put glasses on me, tied her red scarf around my neck.

    And she whispered,

    “I got you, buddy.”

    Right then and there…

    I felt complete.

    Susan (narrating)

    I heard knocking.

    “Susan! It’s raining — your clothes are getting soaked! Get out of there!”

    It was Boyo.

    But I couldn’t move.

    I was still crying.

    And I swear… I heard Oishi crying too. A soft badoddle whimper from his bed.

    I sat up.

    We were both in tears.

    Oishi jumped onto the bed and wrapped his little paws around me.

    I held him tight.

    “I had a dream, Badoodle,” I whispered.

    “I was stunning. A literal commercial model. I had a big office, a big job, a boyfriend —”

    Hair flip. Hair flip.

    “—but you weren’t there.”

    And suddenly, my voice cracked.

    My smile faded.

    Tears again.

    “I don’t want that life, Oishi.

    I don’t care if I’m successful.

    I’d be happy for a while, sure —

    But not for long.

    Because you wouldn’t be in it.”

    I scooped him up again, kissed his furry head.

    “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.

    Except for the boyfriend part.”

    Oishi side-eyed me.

    I laughed through my tears.

    “You’re loyal, and you’re stuck with me. Got that, Badoodle?”

    Back to Reality

    Boyo barged in, dripping wet, holding my clothes — and my undies.

    “BOYO!” I shrieked, throwing a pillow at his face.

    And then — chaos in the living room.

    Oishi.

    EATING MY DIPLOMA.

    “OISHIIIIII! NOT THE DIPLOMAAA!”

    I ran after him with a slipper.

    And there we were:

    Me yelling, Boyo confused and holding my underwear, Oishi running in circles with a piece of paper in his mouth. .

    And I knew.

    I didn’t need to be that boss lady from my dream to feel loved.

    I didn’t need a high-rise office or a high-heeled life.

    I already have it.

    Right here.

    In this loud, messy, slightly insane apartment.

    With my dog, my maybe-boyfriend, and my diploma in shreds.

    This is home.

    And I’m right where I’m supposed to be.

    I just need my dog. My story. My real, ridiculous life.

    ✨ End Scene. Roll credits. Cue goat-voiced rendition of “I Will Always Love You.”

    Still rising. 🐾 Still barking