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

Tag: Cartoon Story Telling

  • Susan & Oishi: Oishi’s Nightmare Black Hawk Down (feat. a Shih Tzu with Spiritual Trauma)

    Chaos Descent

    Alpha, Bravo, Zulu, Ketchup, Tomato — do you copy?!

    The wind howls. Sand whips around like it’s mad at someone. I blink awake (apparently I passed out) and find myself in a helicopter, strapped to a brooding, muscle-bound hooman who looks like Spartacus. (Listen, I’m a dog, not blind. The man has arms carved by destiny.)

    The pilot’s voice crackles: “You are clear to jump.”
    Jump?! From what? Why?! Where even are we?!

    Beside me is a woman with glasses, wearing a laptop like it’s tactical gear. She looks ready to leap. I, on the other paw, am internally crying and possibly externally peeing. But thank the heavens I’m in diapers.

    We reach the edge. Broody McMuscles gives me goggles. I whisper, “You got this, Oishi. You’re on a mission.”

    But I’m not.
    I don’t know the mission.
    I am a Shih Tzu. I do not jump.
    I nap. I lick Susan’s forehead during meltdowns. I eat chimken.

    So I panic. And I pray:
    “Suuuuusaaaaan! Where are you?!”
    I call out to the Mighty Paw, Sir Barkelot, and the Pawtriarch Angels of Barking Light:
    Your Little PhilosoFurr is in deep doodoo!

    The Landing

    The chopper hits the ground. My legs are jelly. They take off my goggles.

    I expect chaos.
    Instead, I see her — a beautiful woman in uniform walking toward me like she’s on the cover of a holy calendar. She smiles, pats my head, and I blush like a puppy in love. I gently lick her hand and touch her crucifix.

    She smells like stability. Unlike Susan.

    But still… where is Susan?

    The Briefing

    Briefing room.
    Hooman’s been talking for 27 minutes. No one asked for this.
    I see an opening.
    Slide over to the computer.
    Type one name: Susan.
    She understands me. She has snacks. She doesn’t say “circle back.”

    The Combat: “Firewall & Furballs”

    And then — BOOM.

    Explosions. Gunfire. Yelling.
    The woman with the laptop is typing like a demon while dodging bullets. The muscley hooman is flipping bad guys like pancakes. I, meanwhile, am sprinting around like a squeaky toy possessed.

    I have no idea what’s going on.
    But I’m in it now. I bark. I run. I don’t fetch — I philosophize under pressure.

    Eventually, we all race back to the helicopter. There’s smoke, shouting, maybe a slow-motion shot of me flying through the air like a furry meatball.

    The Aftermath: 

    We make it.

    And finally, I learn their names:

    • The radiant woman I licked? Sera Wilde. A fitting name for a goddess in camo.
    • The smoldering weapons expert? Rhys Halden.
    • The laptop warrior queen? Nova. Unshaken. Unbothered. Unmatched.

    Rhys pats my head. “You did good today, buddy.”

    Darn right I did.
    I’m also 80% fear pee and 20% dignity right now.
    And… I miss Susan.

    The Awakening

    And then — I hear her.

    🎤 “Just when I thought I was over you…”
    It’s Susan.
    Singing Air Supply with the same goat-on-a-sunset-hill voice she used at karaoke with Yohanes and Brenda.

    I have never felt more seen.
    It’s her. My melodramatic, emotionally unstable hooman. My Susan.

    Final Thought from the PhilosoFurr

    It was a nightmare.
    (Except for Sera. Sera was a dream.)

    But I’m back.
    Susan won’t stop singing, but I don’t care.
    I am safe. I am loved.
    And I love my one and only… Sus.

    🐾 

  • Susan & Oishi: Ep. 3 – Karaoke Night

    Susan & Oishi: Ep. 3 – Karaoke Night

    Narrator: Susan, the Emotionally Unsupervised Hooman
    Friday night: the people’s champion. Universally voted the second-best day after Saturday. After a long week of Zoom meetings, adulting, and Pete’s never-ending monologue about accounting taxes (ugh), it was finally here.

    Narrator: Oishi (yes, I’m a dog—keep up)
    Susan came bursting through the door like a caffeinated hurricane, slamming the car shut and storming into the house. I was mid-nap, belly-up, living my best Shih Tzu life, when suddenly—scoop!

    She squealed, “OISHI! We’re going Karaokeeeee with Yohanes and Brenda! They booked a bar!”
    Then she tied my red bandana like I was going to prom. I licked her face out of sheer survival instinct. She tasted salty, but emotionally enthused. I tolerated it.

    We arrived. It was a tiny room with a screen, two mics, and the heavy scent of regret. Susan grabbed the remote and went full maniac mode. The second the intro played, she clutched the mic like she was accepting a Grammy. Yohanes and Brenda screamed “GO SUS!” like she was Beyoncé’s backup singer.

    Then it started.
    🎵 “I cried a tear, you wiped it dry…” 🎵
    Yes. Anne Murray’s You Needed Me. The drama. The vibrato. The unblinking eye contact.

    I was concerned. But that concern escalated when Yohanes and Brenda started singing APT by Rose and Bruno Mars. Not just singing—dancing. If I were a human, I would’ve put my hand on my forehead and softly muttered, “No.”

    But… it wasn’t all bad.

    There was food.
    Savory. Glorious. Human-grade food.
    While they performed their emotional talent show, I worked the snack table like a professional. I’m not proud. I am full.

    We went home. We ate more.
    Then I passed out.

    Oishi, out. 🎤🐾

    No deep reflections from your Little Philisophurr today. Why?
    Because Susan said this one’s just a regular Friday.
    Not everything has to be profound.
    Sometimes, we just vibe.