My NS expereince was full of shit

One thing springs to mind when I think of National Service: Shit.

Oh, no, no, no -- this is no verbal diarrhoea. NS indeed reminds me of poo-poo. Lots and lots and lots of it, in fact.

I don't know about my fellow countrymen who've served the nation, but while I was in NS, I did a lot of sai gang.
 
You see, I was in the Police K-9 Unit and one of my postings was to the kennels where a large part of what I did every day revolved around scooping up poo-poo that collectively belonged to many, many dogs.

Truth be told, my job in NS stank.

Truth be told, I loved it.

As disgusting as it may sound, being around so much dog faeces has helped me learn to, erm, eat humble pie.

Don't get me wrong though. I don't have perverted preferences when it comes to food choices.

But the thing is, when I was younger, I had never imagined I would one day end up working as a kennel hand in NS -- a job that requires me to get my hands dirty. Very, very dirty.

I mean, yes, I did wish that, when I became a reporter some day,  I would have many, many scoops. I should have been more specific.

On day one of my kennel-hand duty, I was given a grand tour of my workplace, and a detailed brief of my daily tasks -- which took my breath away.

But hey, when work needs to be done, it needs to be done. Somebody has to clear the shit.

And so, I bit the bullet and started doing my job.

Pick up the spade, enter cage, scoop up poo-poo. *gags*. Enter second cage, scoop up poo-poo. Don't look at that shit, Wai Kit! Enter third cage, scoop up poo-poo. Wait. OMG. Is that SHIT on my fingers?! I think I'm going to faint. Enter fourth cage, scoop up poo-poo. Oh, gawd, when is this going to end?!

Of course, I had other menial -- and meaningful -- duties while in NS, but you really can't blame me for remembering mainly the sordid details of my work.

I remember I used to dread entering a particular cage, whose occupant loved playing with his own poo-poo. And it didn't help that it was the mushy type. Every time I stood outside his kennel, I felt like I was staring at a crime scene - the floor, the walls, the gate... all stained.

But our canine friend would think nothing of it -- he seemed to be in a perfectly merry world of his own, who is always happy to have a spade-carrying visitor.

And when I say happy, I mean rrrreally happy. The moment I step into his cage, he'd go wild with joy... and start prancing on me like I was his long-lost buddy. Get down, boy! Stop giving me high-fives on my shirt!

Every time I'm done cleaning up his kennel, I'd need some serious cleaning up myself. 

Eerily enough though, I began to think nothing of it as days went by.

Soon, I started to look at poo-poo in a different light. Some came in different shades of brown, green, and dark chocolate. Some were aqueous and mashed-up. Others looked heartily chunky.

And it didn't take long before I took pride in my work.

Shit on my fingers? Aiyah, just wipe it on the corner of the spade lah. There's a lot more poo-poo waiting to be scooped up -- don't waste time!

And once I got past the eew-factor of my job, I actually started to love it.

Even my visits to our poo-poo-playing canine friend became less dreadful.

Yes, yes, you're happy to see me and you want to high-five my face. But can you please wait for me to clean up your soiled walls, at least? 

Often, my work is laborious. As soon as my day begins, I'd sweat like a melting candle. When I'm done with my duties at the end of the day, I'd feel like I had a shitty day -- but one that's totally worth it.

Surprisingly, I had never regretted asking to be posted to the kennels.

Sometimes, I felt like I was one of the hardworking seven dwarves, cheerily marching into the mines, spades in tow to dig for gold -- and singing while at it.

And it helped very much too, that my fellow dwarves all took pride in their work -- which was a huge motivation boost for me.

None of them complained about work, and we all got along very well.

Naturally, the kennel became a favourite hangout for most off-duty dog handlers -- and I'd like to believe it's because we made the place a positive and merry environment.

The place was always bustling, filled with our laughter and banter while we worked.

I like to think of my workplace as a fish market -- smelly but not off-putting because there're always hearty fishmongers around. Again, I reiterate I don't have perverted preferences when it comes to food choices.

It's been a decade since I've completed NS, but every time I think of my happy days at the kennel, I smile fondly.

Every one of us has unique and special memories of our NS days.

For those who haven't done yours, I wish you'd have scooped up loads of happy memories by the time you ORD.

For those who have, let's take a moment to reminisce those days, and remind ourselves how lucky we are, that while serving our nation, we were able to forge friendships that helped weave heart-warming and comforting memories that bring a smile to our faces.