Mystery unsolved: Who is Coco? (And the moral to live by)

What am I doing? Shush! Do not disturb me, I am meditating and weighing the infinite options whether I should share this secret with you or not. 

It had been close to five months and the neighbours who lived (and still do) a stone throw’s away from my sister’s swanky new place were what I would describe a ‘character’ in themselves. Not that my sister is any way less – her nickname coined by people who haven’t even met her and only heard her over the phone is Banshee. Why you ask? I suggest you give me a call to find that out.

So back to the story *Goodness, stop distracting me. Hehe!* Throughout the day and till 8 in the night, all you can hear from across the five feet of space between the two houses is the family screaming out loud for Coco – with the attention this one being was receiving, we were convinced the neighbours were secretly harbouring a fugitive.

  • Cocoooo! Where are you?
  • Cocoooo! Now where did he go?
  • Cocoooo! Eat your food. Goodness, you are good for nothing.

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Coco, on the other hand, remained elusive and mysterious and my sister and I were often baffled on who the poor soul named Coco really was.

  • Was it a child who had no mind of its own?
  • A brat that needed to be constantly monitored?
  • Wait! Was the family seeing things and talking to someone that didn’t exist like that little girl in The Conjuring 2? *Yikes. No wonder we got such a good deal on our appartment*
Turns out, despite our best Nancy Drew-inspired sleuthing – which mainly involved peeping into the neighbours’ house from behind the curtains – Coco was none of the above. *And keeping Option 3 in mind, thank goodness for that*

While we pitied ‘Poor Coco’ that the family couldn’t stop obsessing over, the veil from the best kept secret slipped one fine day when my sister heard the unmistaken sound that shattered every preconceived notion we ever held – woof woof.

Stray gang down the road just wanted to drop by and say, “hellooo”. They thought I was talking about them when I wrote “woof, woof”. Needy doofuses! Sigh!

COCO WAS A DOG (a black little pug, 1/10th my size)! But the one making ALL the noise was the family. It’s going to be a year, and the only time I have heard Mr Coco – he has earned our respect for not running miles away from that hyperventilating, yet loving family – was probably four times. He is quite rad though, takes walks all by himself and acts like the boss when the family acts like they are high on coffee and are often heard tap-dancing around the house and obsessing where he is when he is just watching some Cartoon Network. *Just kidding. That would be just plain weird*

Moral of the story? Never shy away from being nosy, obnoxious and a total snoop. There I said it. Now make me proud!

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