The Sultan Of Somaland

My dog is really special. I know, this is what every dog owner says. But, my Sultan is truly, truly special in a very, very special way. We understand each other. We talk to each other. I have a constant conversation going on with him all the time. We just look at each other and we know what we ought to be doing. We love similar foods. We love similar activities. For examples, both of us love chewing flowers. Both of us love rolling on the cold floor naked. I think he looks like me. I am not kidding! I read a survey that proved that dogs tend to look like their owners. We eat from the same plate. He loves eating Borolin, toothpaste… something that I used to do when I was a kid. He is a rebel. Just like me, if you call him a bad boy, you must explain why you are calling him a bad boy… or else he will keep arguing with you. He hates it when somebody points finger at him. He doesn’t take shit from anybody. It is November 2 today. This was the day, exactly a year ago, when I took him in my arms and got him home. He had swag even when he was just a month old. He would force his way into your lap and sleep, eat from the red little apple shaped plate and lift his hind legs into the air… he had spikes too! Sultan was an explosion in my life. He forced me out of depression like a hero. He is my hero. His arrival in my world was like an explosion of a million emotions that my heart had long forgotten. My Sultan is Sultan. The real Sultan. The one and the only absolute king who rules the center of my being. I love you, my baby! My life is unimaginable without you!


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