“Lost in Puppydom: Rory Dylan Stephen’s Puppydom” : THE ABDUCTION OF RORY DYLAN STEPHEN: AN EVENING CRUISE ON THE CHAO PHRAYA RIVER IN BANGKOK WITH TWO VIETNAMESE “GENTLEMEN”

The Singapore Times Exclusive: THE ABDUCTION OF RORY DYLAN STEPHEN: AN EVENING CRUISE ON THE CHAO PHRAYA RIVER IN BANGKOK WITH TWO VIETNAMESE “GENTLEMEN”

Somchai returned me to our suite at the Peninsula Bangkok and we parted friends with a jolly bark of approval from me.

Bobby Jr. had recovered from his wobbly tummy and was hoisting a few durian juices and vodka. He told me we would be sailing along the Chao Phraya River that cuts Bangkok in two. Our guests would be two Vietnamese gentlemen but how gentle they were was dubious given Bobby Jr.’s comment these “gentlemen” would throw you in the Bau Sau wetlands to watch you gobbled up by Siamese Crocodiles just for the fun of it.

We walked to the private dock of the Peninsula Bangkok to board the yacht Bobby Jr. had hired. Well shiver me timber, the captain was the beautiful Malay woman who had driven us to Sir Reginald Nicomshire’s party a few nights ago in Singapore. Bobby Jr. embraced her warmly. Was there something going on there!

Bobby and I waited 25 minutes for our two Vietnamese guests to arrive. Shiver me timber again. I recognized one of them. That creepy man with the long curly nails and medical type sunglasses from Nicomshire’s party that had been arguing with Bobby Jr.’s mother Madame Fong. Man he looked similar to Uncle Ho!

We shoved off and I headed to the bow to enjoy the breeze and the view of a beautifully illuminated Temple of the Dawn, historic sights and skyscrapers. I have seen so many beautiful sights today I can’t imagine many puppies experiencing.

I had a bowl of rice and sliced meat off the ribs from Bobby Jr.’s favourite carnivorous joint in Bangkok, The Smoking Pug.

I overheard the Vietnamese gentlemen speaking in very angry tones about “that Sherman swine”. Could that be Barry Sherman we had dinner last night with?  They sounded so furious I thought they just might throw him to the crocodiles!

We docked back at the Bangkok Peninsula around midnight and our guests wobbled down the plank after consuming a vast amount of Chang Lagers.

We, and I include Amira, the beautiful Malay, headed up to our suite for some shuteye.

Bobby said all three of us would be flying to some place Siem Reap in Cambodia.

Oh Shit! Will I have to sniff landmines there!

“Lost in Puppydom: Rory Dylan Stephen’s Puppydom”: THE ABDUCTION OF RORY DYLAN STEPHEN: SHOULDN’T HAVE EATEN THAT SALAD:    PUTTERING AROUND BANGKOK AND POOPING IN A PALACE FLOWEBED IRONICALLY MAKING ME THE MOST POPULAR WESTIE IN BANGKOK

The Singapore Times Exclusive: THE ABDUCTION OF RORY DYLAN STEPHEN: SHOULDN’T HAVE EATEN THAT SALAD:  PUTTERING AROUND BANGKOK AND POOPING IN A PALACE FLOWEBED IRONICALLY MAKING ME THE MOST POPULAR WESTIE IN BANGKOK

Bobby Jr. had a rough night running to and fro to the bathroom cursing loudly that he should have known better. Never eat raw unpeeled vegetables of which was not the case with the large, tossed salad he wolfed down at Mazzaro’s last night. Why not say what he wolved down was exiting from him roaring like a lion and fouling the air of our suite.

We ate our breakfast on the terrace of our suite enjoying the cool breeze from the Chao Phraya River. Its flow of boats was mesmerizing and far superior to tramping the hot pavement of Bangkok.

Bobby Jr. arranged for Thai High End Dog Services to entertain me for the day while he conducted some business from our suite. I heard him say to my attendant Somchai that if he ever lost me his head would roll and knowing Bobby Jr. he meant it.

Off we rolled in a Volvo XC 90 SUV to the European inspired Bang Pa In Summer Palace complex dating to the Ayutthaya Kingdom. We visited several buildings including traditional Thai pavilions, Chinese-style halls and a Thai Buddhist Temple that resembled a Gothic church. I enjoyed the beautiful gardens and lawns with ornamental plantings.

We then headed to an historic UNESCO World Heritage site Ayutthaya a city that served as the second capital of the Siamese Kingdom, now Thailand for more than four centuries. It was sacked by Burmese forces in 1767 and left in ruins but if the magnificent ruins are any indication of its greatness it certainly was once a flourishing city. Not to vulgarize the story but I had a poop in a flowerbed causing two guides to come running and you could tell Somchai was going to receive a tongue lashing but two wads of cash in the hands of the Thai guides now made me the most popular West Highland Terrier in Bangkok.

It was becoming unbearably hot and remember I was nine months old and this is my very first hot weather. I must have gulped down a litre of Evian so far.

To cool down we headed over to Benjakitti Park for a picnic lunch Thai High End Dog Services had prepared for both myself and Somchai. I thoroughly enjoyed my chicken slices poached in coconut milk and lemongrass, with a mango ice for dessert. Somchai had a Tom Ka Kai soup with a Chang Lager.

Somchai laid a blanket down for me on the grass under a tree and I slept like a log for two hours.

This is the Bangkok I like!!!

Tonight off on a river cruise with two Vietnamese gentlemen.

RKS Literature: Two Types of Melancholy (Thomas Nasche)

“Of this melancholy there be two sorts: one that, digested by our liver, swimmeth like oil above water and that is rightly termed women’s melancholy; which lasteth but for an hour and is, as it were, but a copy of their countenance; the other sinketh down to the bottom of the lees of the wine, and that corrupteth all the blood and is the causer of lunacy. Well-moderated recreations are the medicine to both; surfeit or excessive study of the causes of either.”

Thomas Nasche (1567-1601), “Terrors of the Night”

“Lost in Puppydom: Rory Dylan Stephen’s Puppydom”: THE ABDUCTION OF RORY DYLAN STEPHEN: FIRST DAY IN BANGKOK AND DINNER WITH HONEY AND BARRY SHERMAN

The Singapore Times Exclusive: THE ABDUCTION OF RORY DYLAN STEPHEN: FIRST DAY IN BANGKOK AND DINNER WITH HONEY AND BARRY SHERMAN

Bobby Jr. took me to Bangkok for a look see and a meeting he had: a very important meeting he emphasized.

We flew on a chartered private jet and upon arrival at Bangkok’s Suvarnabhumi Airport we hopped on a limo to our suite at the Peninsula Bangkok. A tremendously luxurious suite with a view of the Chao Phraya River. Bobby Jr. was a regular at the hotel and was handing out wads of cash as tips or were they “loyalty payments”? Management had a full bar prepared for Bobby Jr. but as usual he stuck to his durian juice and vodka and me to my Evian straight up.

Love those cute tugboats on the river!

After freshening up we headed to Icon Siam an enormous vertical shopping mall very high end with two floors of restaurants which Bobby Jr. referred to as “top rate”. The food court below was very low end and Bobby Jr. remarked, “You take your chances eating there!  The word food court in Singapore equates with quality but not here in Bangkok.” We had taken a shuttle boat from Peninsula Bangkok which was but a 7-minute trip. Bobby Jr. said never drive in Bangkok if you can avoid it. The traffic is deadly slow.

All Bobby Jr. wanted was a battery for his Cartier watch and to give me a flavour of Bangkok we walked home on hot and dirty streets filthy by Singaporean standards. Amid luxury dilapidated corrugated metal shacks, poverty, smells, dirty air, unsafe looking food stalls, ramshackle restaurants and stagnant traffic! Fifteen minutes of walking in this cesspool and I began to both appreciate and miss Singapore: clean, proper, organized and orderly.

Upon returning to our suite Bobby Jr. had a couple of durian and vodkas consuming an entire bag of shrimp chips tossing me a couple to enjoy with my Evian water.

We hopped aboard the Peninsula Hotel shuttle to take us across the river to an Italian-Thai fusion restaurant Mazzaro for our dinner and Bobby Jr.’s meeting. We met a lovely couple from Toronto, Honey and Barry Sherman who lived close to the Fong’s in Toronto’s Bridle Path. How nice meeting neighbours so far away! I had several slices of delicious grilled pork chops and a bit of Jasmine rice and carrots. I dozed under the table while Bobby Jr. and the Shermans talked business. They kept mentioning manufacturing the good stuff “cutting the Chinese out as their product was getting too expensive.” Some talk about a plant in Haiphong Barry had just set up.

We said our good-byes and walked back to the shuttle passing numerous massage parlours, tailors and cannabis dispensaries. Boy so many people have stiff muscles here in Bangkok, so they really require massages! Actually, Bobby Jr. stopped in for a massage and I slept on a pile of freshly washed sheets in the back room listening to jazz and the groans of those sore people getting those massages. Hope they feel better.

RKS Japanese Literature: Young Japanese Men with Literary Power in their Hands (Sōseki Natsume)

“No one with a brain in his head can stand here in the centre of the intellectual world and be indifferent to the violent upheavals going on before his eyes. We young men are the ones who hold today’s literary power in our hands, so we have to take the initiative to make every word, every phrase, count. The literary world is undergoing a spectacular revolution. Everything is moving in a new direction, and we must not be left behind. We have to make the new trends go the way we want them to, or it’s not worth being alive. The way they throw the word ‘literature’ around, you’d think it was garbage, but that’s just the ‘literature’ you hear about in places like the University. The new literature will have to influence the movement of the whole of Japanese society.”

Sōseki Natsume, “Sanshirō”, 1908-9.

RKS Japanese Literature: Empty Headed Japanese University Students (Sōseki Natsume)

“The students who flocked to Berlin to hear Hegel’s lectures”-this fellow was obviously a great admirer of Hegel-“were not driven by ambition. They did not intend to exploit the lectures to qualify themselves for making a living. No, they came because their hearts were pure. They knew only that a philosopher called Hegel transmitted from his lectern the ultimate universal Truth and, their quest for Truth a pressing need, they sought at his feet to resolve their disquieting doubts. And when they listened to Hegel with pure hearts, they were able to determine their future, to remake their personal destiny. What magnificent conceit it is for you, a Japanese University student to equate yourself with them, you and your kind who go to lectures with empty heads, who graduate and leave the University with empty heads. You are nothing but typewriters, greedy typewriters. Whatever you do or think or say is finally unrelated to the urgent life force of a changing society. And that is how you shall always be: emptyheaded until death! Empty headed until death!”

Sōseki Natsume, “Sanshirō”, 1908-9.

“Lost in Puppydom: Rory Dylan Stephen’s Puppydom”: THE ABDUCTION OF RORY DYLAN STEPHEN: WHO IS BOBBY FONG JR.?

The Singapore Times Exclusive: THE ABDUCTION OF RORY DYLAN STEPHEN WHO IS BOBBY FONG JR.?

Bobby Fong Jr. is Madame Fong’s 326-pound son of Madame Fong. Like Julian in the Canadian sitcom “Trailer Park Boys” he has instead of a rum and coke on the rocks a durian juice on the rocks spiked with vodka in his hands. It gives him horrid breath but as durians are omnipresent in Singapore you become rather accustomed to it.

Bobby Jr. always treated me with respect bordering on affection. No wonder. Madame Fong, his mother, had the compassion of a Cambodian viper and treated Bobby Jr. despicably. And yes, he promised me that no harm would come to me.

He struck me as a lonely guy like Steve Martin in the movie of the same name.

Certainly he was feared in Singapore. He was up to nefarious tasks as he was always collecting wads of cash from all sorts of people both of dubious character and respectable looking. And do you recall he shot up Raffles, my competitor in the Singapore Westie of the Year competition with some performance enhancing substance eliminating him as the winner making me the Singapore Westie of the Year. The man is no angel.

Oh and those two creepy Vietnamese men I saw him meet with a few times. One emaciated with a goatee and very dark medical looking sunglasses and oh those long curling nails made me want to gag! He looked a bit like Ho Cho Minh if you ask me.

What racket(s) he was running in Singapore I was not quite certain.

He was often on the phone with his mother Madame Fong and as far as I discerned, he had responsibility for “family operations” in Bangkok, Thailand and Cambodia.

I don’t recall him ever associated with a woman you might classify as a girlfriend; classic lonely guy.

After Nicomshire’s party we took a few days off and I must have walked in just about every park in Singapore.

During our resting on park benches Bobby Jr. mentioned to me his mother, Madame Fong, was being extraordinarily stupid and it would be no surprise to him if she’d be badly burnt in the house of worldly suffering. What in the hell did he mean by that? Would it somehow be linked with my liberation?

“Lost in Puppydom: Rory Dylan Stephen’s Puppydom”: THE ABDUCTION OF RORY DYLAN STEPHEN: WHO IS MADAME FONG?

The Singapore Times Exclusive: WHO IS MADAME FONG?

As far as I knew it at the time Madame Fong was the architect and mastermind of my abduction as my journey commenced at her Family Noodle Restaurant on Spadina Avenue in Toronto.

From what I gleaned from her son Bobby Jr. Madame Fong was born in Salmon Arm, British Columbia. Her mother raised her as her father deserted the family shortly after her birth. He apparently was quite taken with a topless go-go dancer, GiGi Larue, at the local tavern. Overtaken by cheap beer, sex and Mexican marijuana Madame Fong recalled.

Madame Fong’s great grandfather Ming had emigrated to Canada from Hangzhou, China to work on the construction of a trans Canada rail line. He was treated miserably and eventually beaten to death by the foreman of his gang who escaped any prosecution as Ming was in arrears in payment of his work permit fees hence declared a public nuisance and a vagrant not worthy of protection under Canadian law. A deep streak of historic Canadian racism Hop Sing style.

Given Ming’s death was at the hands of a Caucasian, and her father was stolen by a disreputable white woman let’s say she had it in for white folk.

She took Bobby Jr. to Vancouver where she opened a noodle shop very much of a fad sweeping Vancouver where at the time an exciting night out was eating a hamburger and gooseberry pie at a White Spot restaurant.

She opened a chain of noodle restaurants expanding from Vancouver to Halifax. At a high level gloss she presented the picture of a legitimate and successful businesswoman.

She was clothed to perfect in vintage couture; Balmain, St. Laurent, Oleg Cassini, Pierre Cardin, Quant and for modernity Jean Paul Gaultier and Vincent Garnier Pressiat. Always, of course jewelry by Bvlgari.

A home in The Bridle Path area of Toronto and a chic summer residence in Ano Capri.

So much money mixed with too much legitimacy. My Westie nose detected something amiss.

I overheard Bobby Jr. speaking to his mother about her trips to Hanoi and North Korea. What is that expression…the more you stir the shit the more it smells.

In the limited interactions I had with her she was pure Arctic efficiency and reeked of heartlessness. She seemed to be on a mission and I had some part to be played in it.

“Lost in Puppydom: Rory Dylan Stephen’s Puppydom”: THE ABDUCTION OF RORY DYLAN STEPHEN: WHO IS THIS SINGAPOREAN SHIPPING MAGNATE SIR REGINALD NICOMSHIRE?

The Singapore Times Exclusive: WHO IS THIS SINGAPOREAN SHIPPING MAGNATE SIR REGINALD NICOMSHIRE?

Humans converse with their dogs under a false impression the canine understands very little of what they say. Not so. This is the secret power of dogs and explains why we have survived thousands of years besides humans. It started as a big con for food and has devolved into something more sophisticated. Dare I say we are experts at manipulating humans and taking over the world!

Bobby Jr. is always chatting with me; whether too much vodka in his durian juice or a need to communicate with another living being; who knows.

He laughs when Nicomshire proffers a title of Sir. He has oodles of wealth but absolutely no royalty. It is no demeaning of his humble beginnings by Bobby Jr. but rather Nicomshire tries to leap over his roots. His father was a boiled sweets salesman on the streets of Liverpool. Or was he in reality a gagger exchanging sweets for drops?

Reginald, or Reggie as the lower elements of Liverpool referred to him as quit school at 11 years of age to sell pornographic postcards. Well not really. He sold them as pornographic postcards but when the seal was broken by the buyer the pornographic images were those of the Liverpool post office. The buyers were too embarrassed to request a refund.

With his postcard profits he smuggled scotch from the Scottish Highlands on barges and trucks to be distributed in Northern England. And then with the profits he purchased a dilapidated cruise ship that cruised the waterways of England where the business was sex cruises. He was a regular seaman transporting semen!

He then opened “recreation camps” in Communist Romania which were brothels for high-ranking party members. And with those profits he purchased a few rusty tankers to ply the Black Sea with whatever contraband fetched the highest price.

His wealth augmented to the point he married his wife Prunella, daughter of X a key member of Singapore’s ruling elite; using her family’s wealth he built a fleet of cargo ships transporting perfectly legal cargo except on occasion opium laden gum for the “criminal elements” of Singapore. That’s where Madame Fong became handy.

In short he constructed respectability in Singapore. A strategic supporter and funder of the PAP structure and Singaporean philanthropy and the arts. A citizen above suspicion. Had he reformed? Even a screever can move beyond hogs!

RKS Literature: The Three Evils of the Tramp’s Life: HUNGER (George Orwell)

“The first is hunger which is the almost general fate of tramps. The casual ward gives them a ration which is probably not even meant to be sufficient, and anything beyond this must be got by begging-that is, by breaking the law. The result is that nearly every tramp is rotted by malnutrition; for proof of which one need only look at the men lining up outside any casual ward.”

George Orwell, “Down and Out in Paris and London”, 1933.