Two distinguishable voices engaged in animated conversation at an unearthly hour wasn't exactly my regular wake-up call. I am a heavy sleeper. However, when Xena joined in the conversation, it was impossible not to pay attention.
I walked towards my bedroom window and peered outside into the darkness. As expected, there wasn't much to see. The streets outside were washed in dimmed neon lights and if anyone in the neighbourhood had had a Christmas Eve Party, it had to be long over.
It was impossible to follow the conversation once Xena is involved. She never respected the protocol of polite conversation where you wait for the speaker to pause before interjecting. Often, you find her bulldozing her barks into any casual neighbourly dialogues whether or not they were welcomed.
In this respect, she is a lot different from Marcus.
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| Xena |
| Marcus, the Silky Terrier. Died three years ago. |
Marcus listened to the neighbourhood conversation, ears cocked and waited patiently for the intermission before interjecting a bark or two. A male of few barks, he often got his messages across and the frenzied exchange of barks soon died down, unlike with Xena where the barks seemed to escalate with a life of its own.
I called Xena my Haiku-Dog. That's because she's quite the 5-7-5 syllabic dog. In a typical neighbourhood dialogue, Xena's contribution usually goes:
Woof-Woof-Woof-Woof-Woof!Yes, I counted.
Woof-Woof-Woof-Woof-Woof-Woof-Woof!
Woof-Woof-Woof-Woof-Woof!
| Venus, on the other hand can be pretty long-winded if she decided to partake in any deliberation. Her barks are usually disorganised and did not follow any syllabic rules. |
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Ginger rarely participate in the neighbourhood chats but when she did, she goes ballistic with rapid-fire barks which only she alone understood.
Ginger was thankfully silent this morning while the other two just let themselves go. It was eternity before the two men engaged in the loud conversation had the presence of mind to end it. Venus held her tongue. Xena followed her fine example. Silence claimed the darkness.
I looked at the wall clock. It was 2 am on Christmas morning.
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