One day, I accidentally munched on a philosophy book. It tasted like any other piece of paper, but something strange happened. I became disillusioned with everything. I started pondering the meaning of life, wondering why we're so attached to things, and what we really gain from barking and biting.

These existential questions put me in a contemplative mood, and I'd often lie quietly on the big sofa-my favourite spot, which I occupied more than any guest. To be honest, not many visitors came by, mostly because they were intimidated by me.