There and Back Again

drivewayWhere do we begin? It’s has been just over a year in the human lunar calendar since I was able to convey my life story. How did I become for want of a better word educated? As you smooth skins would classify as educated anyway, seventy percent hard work, twenty percent luck and ten percent biscuits.

Last time we spoke I had just made one of the biggest mistakes of my puppy life, I talked out loud to the food giver in smooth skin tongue, which resulted in a trip to the hamster killer aka vet wobble bottom.

Well lets rewind a little to my midnight encounter with the mistress canine, who tired to seduce me into the doggy dark side of my powers. With my newfound skill I could unite all K9’s as one fighting force, to rule dogkind! Or die with the flea bitten goodie goodie Chihuahua circus, who long for a voice to represent the doggy generation.

By opening my puppy chops to the food giver, I had unwittingly sowed the seed of my so-called demise, unraveling a turn of events that would ultimately change my life forever, and all of those around me.

By the time we had reached the hamster killer, word had already spread of my broken silence in the presence of a smooth skin. The evil seductress bitch (female dog) had relayed the message to her unknown master of her fears that there would be a chance I would be taken forever and experimented on. A death sentenced had been cast upon me.

Two large, smelly, drooling and stupid looking dogs and one sharp looking and slightly pissed off dog laid in wait near our shiny rumble rumble place goer, whilst my food giver and I entered the vets.
“Mr Blue you’re on look out, give me two small ruffs if you see them coming back. Mr Pink you’re on entrance duty.” Mumbling to himself Mr Pink let out a mini howl “why do I have to be Mr Pink why can’t I be Mr Green or Mr Yellow?”

Blue shook his head as drool cascaded in all directions then sighed “not this again.” Mr Black raised up onto his hind legs with a scorned look on his face. “Now I’ve told you about this before, there are already other dogs on different jobs with the names Mr Yellow and Mr Green. You just have to make do with what’s been chosen for you, and stop bringing this subject up while we’re on a contract. You don’t want another incident like the Shih Tzu Saga!”

Blue let out a little giggle snort “shit gate is what me and the lads called it.” Pink squinted his eyes up at Blue and snarled under his breath “I’m just saying its not fair that Tarquin should get a name like Mr Blue”

Black suddenly snarls and lashes out at Pink, gifting him a little nip on the ear causing a submissive whimper. “Let that be the end of it! I want to get this job done and dusted before those two come out of the vets, plus the postman comes around to my fake letterbox at 4:30 and I don’t want to miss him again. Pink, pay attention! Go and jump up through the back window and be quick about it. We have wasted too much time as it is!”

Pink leaped up the rumble rumble maker’s door and slickly slid in through the window, being careful not to leave any marks. He scrambled onto the back seat and maneuvered his way to the front. Opening the front door for Black to do his thing.

Sniffing for signs of trouble Black entered quickly going straight for the break pedal “quick, who has the bouncy ball of death?” Pink lets out a gasp “shit, uh, I thought you had it” shooting a look of disbelief up at Pink from the floor, Black bellows “Grrrr! Really, I mean really, its the Shih Tzu saga all over again.”

All of sudden Black and Pink hear the warning sign “Ruff Ruff”. Pink starts to panic “what we going to do? What we going do?” Black quickly sets his gaze around the vroom vroom “calm yourself Pink and do exactly what I say, grab me those empty coke cans from down near the passengers side, then go join Blue at the rally point.”

Black with cool, calm and ease of a seasoned pro jams the empty cans under the break pedal, grabs the front passenger door and pulls it to. Hitting down the lock back into place and then makes his relaxed professional exit through the rear window and vanishes like a canine ninja.

The food giver and I entered the car and before driving we heard “Weight! Please! Please weight!” watching a dangerously overweight veterinarian running lightens up any awkward moment. Between pants the vet spluttered out “Your…. Your dog… It bloody talked!” The Food giver got out the car and slowly edged towards the vet, she drew herself up to her highest height as close to his nose as possible and screamed, “Tell me something I don’t know hamster boy!”

Then we sped off. flinging up gravel dust over the vet. We were flying down a gravel track and we didn’t even break for the turning onto the main road. I could tell that the food giver was not a happy bunny to put it mildly. What happened next still seems like a blur, and all I can really remember was the sound of the smooth skin screaming confused words. She uttered what sounded like the ‘Bucking fakes wont push down’ then bang it all went black!!

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The Hamster Killer!

The vet is a horrible, stinking, disgusting and intrusive place, to the point you wonder if it encroaches on perversion. I can’t back that last statement up but goddamit they scare the willies out of me, for some dogs that’s fact. I must admit the ride over there in the car is the only consolation.

As we neared the building my tongue felt salon blow-dried to the point it wouldn’t fit back into my mouth. But there it was, the building of disrepute, the land of pain and strange exotic smells. But I have to be brave, this is my own fault and I must face my fears.

I feel as though if anyone were to create a time machine, they would be driven by the desire to change a stupid comment that made them look like a complete lemon. In my case I called my owner a “nagging old shower of poo”. This behavior is frowned upon, epically when coming from a dog that is supposed to bark.

I have chosen to keep my communication skills quiet since then, seeing as it caused the food giver to have a nervous break down. I suppose this is the reason why I make my way to the butcher of hamsters. I’ve been told he keeps a necklace of gerbil ears under his white coat.

“Well is this the little fella? Well ello my smoochy liddle poochy woochy.” See, pure evil. “What seems to be the problem? Hurty paw? Naughty tummy?” He’s probably thinking about how best to cook me. “Well lets see if Mr. and Misses knows what the problem is ay?” It took all my strength not to tell him to shove that cold thermometer up his jacksy.

“The little bastard called me a massive pile of shit!” It’s a difficult challenge to completely describe the screech that food giver number 1 bellowed when she said shit. “Um well this isn’t really my area, you know… um our talking dog specialist is on holiday. “

A shifty silence ensued, with equally shifty eyes. An uncomfortable period of silence unused, where nobody wished to break it “Bollocks! I said poo! If you’re going to dob me in to the evil hamster killer then at least have the common courtesy to get it right!

If silence were an Olympic sport then this lot would be famous. Then suddenly someone started to gently sob. “It was a hamster virus that hit the town I tell you!” And the vet ran from the observation room whimpering. As we walked in frustrating silence to the car we heard a heavy run on gravel struggling behind us.

“Weight! Please! Please weight!” watching a dangerously overweight veterinarian running lightens up any awkward moments. Between pants the vet splurted out “Your…. Your dog… It bloody talked!” Food giver number one slowly edged towards the vet and drew herself up to her highest height as close to his nose as possible and screamed.

“Tell me something I don’t know hamster boy!” Then we sped off flinging up gravel dust over the vet. It was at this point that I had a newfound respect for humans, even if they seemed to be a tad emotional.

Photo courtesy of Albert Bridge at Geograph

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It’s a Dogs life we lead

People tell me ‘it’s a dogs life’, is it really? Well in my case it is, whether that means my life’s peachy, I’m uncertain. Surrounded by what looks like six very mangy, old and smelly chihuahuas wearing stupid hats, is not what I consider to be peachy- more very confusing.

I flipped, I realized that this was not what the occasion called for, but I just down right lost it. My flipping manifested itself by shooting up bolt right, then screeching “waaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh” and running as fast as I could for the nearest exit. Seeing as no exit presented itself,  I proceeded to run around in circles to release my episodic energies.

The six old dogs sat patently in this darkened wooden shack, the candle light playing flickering shadows on the walls as I ran around like a screaming tit. “So this is what we’ve been waiting all these years for? A simpleton with the bravery of a pot noodle.”

I broke for a moment, bent over and panting whilst I attempted to catch my breath, then I took a big old heave and continued. “I’ll give it to him though, he’s got stamina, even if he has the intelligence of a sausage.”

Finally I did run out of puff but unfortunately so did my grasp on reality, as my surroundings became confusing shapes. The room decided to spin around in crazy circles, disco lights shone around in fantastic shimmering colors and chihuahua heads span round in the air.

“Enough of pot noodles and Sausages Baxter! He’s passing out again, by the holy balls of Snoopy!” The smallest of all the unsettling Chihuahua’s turned to the mangiest and oldest of all the tiny pooches. “O reverent Elder Snuffles, he’s not ready for the testing, we should take him home.”

I awoke to my lovely Lilly tickling my ears, smiling down at me while she watched her shiny box of noises and shapes. “Din dins!” I almost leaped the entire length of the front room to the kitchen from Lilly’s lap, skidding to the bowl as I munched like a dog possessed.

It’s at times like this you look around and see why people say its a dog’s life. “Pissssssst” I mean when you look at it life is just an amazing concoction of… “Pisssssssssssst you stupid crap bag”. Crap bag? Who dares call me crap bag! Being insulted caused my usual cowardly nature to take a holiday.

“Now look here matey Jim, I may be a few things but crap bag is not one of them.” Then it hit me, oh my sweet and merciful snoopy, it was a female dog! Poking her head through the cat flap. I had uncontrollable urges to sniff her butt, and chase her around a bit “Just shut up and follow me” I was so taken that I just followed her through into the garden.

Again I found myself being so confused that I just wanted to headbutt a toaster. “I present the other choice O chosen one.” My tail wagged with nervous energy as I sat down on the cold patio. “The other choice? As in for me to choose? Or are you’re another chosen one chosen by the choosers?” The lady dog shook her head in confusion. “No, oh just shut up and listen.”

“I represent the winning side.” My tail stopped wagging and my testosterone charged panting ceased and my wet tongue flopped back into my snout. “The winning side to what exactly?” An evil look overtook this temptress and she let out a very well rehearsed cackle, so good that I wanted to clap a little.

“You have many tests that lay before you young pup, but we can make you a god!” She held out her paws for this and shouted it to the sky for fancy effect, and let out another award winning cackle.”Well that sounds lovely, it was very nice to meet you but I’m going back inside now to finish my din dins.”

“There’s no time for din dins, you flipping half wit! The times of conference are upon us and you…” Again she pointed at me, tilted her head back looking at me with wide eyes. “.. you are the conduit of change! Be our Savior, let my master show you the true meaning of your power! Or die with the flee bitten chihuahua circus!” This time I did clap and I stood up a bit. “Wow you’re very good at this.”

She grabbed me firmly by the chops shaking my head “You have the ability to communicate with humans, you fool! Do you know what this means?! You can rule dogkind! Grow up and chose a side or life will make you choose.” She ran to the bushes “We will make you a gooooooooooood!”

“Pauly, come finish ya din dins!” As I returned to devour my munch, the day’s events rolled across my mind with words like conference, conduit and the one with abilities. “What does it all mean?” I sat there on the patio utterly confused. “Pauly come on now it’s getting late.”

“Oh alright, you bloody nagging old shower of poo, I’ll be there in a sec.” What happened after that statement made everything entirely clear. “It talked, It talked! The Bloody dog talked! And it called me a poo!” Running through the house into the street, Lilly’s mother screamed waking up the neighbors. “Oh OK, so I can actually communicate with humans, this is going to be interesting.”

Photo courtesy of Dan Machold at Flickr

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Stranger Danger!

Thunder! Lightening flash! Random tree branch smacking against the window pane! I snapped awake, my ears turned up for any present danger.

I looked left, I sniffed right, all seemed to smell OK as I softly walked down the stairs leaving my owner Lilly’s bedroom, my eyes closed half way in shifty concentration. For no reason other then my own sense of occasion I felt the need to do a series of different kung fu stances on each step during my descent down the stairs.

The kitchen was dark and altogether too scary for my young puppy mind. The whistling wind caused the out of use cat flap to flip back and forth with loud clicks. The tree outside must be immense as even downstairs had cinematic branches beating the kitchen window in tune to the lighting flashes. “So you’re this brave puppy we’ve all been hearing about?”

STRANGER DANGER! I jumped up into a lesser doggy form of the praying mantis “I warn you mate, I’ve gotta green belt black tag in gonna kick your ass” I made a series of practice swipes in the air, adding menacing looks to my intimidatingly cute puppy features. “You’re the last git who’s gonna chit chat surprise me in the dark! Use the bloody front door bell like everyone else.” It was at this point yet again that I hadn’t noticed where the voice was coming from.

“You do go on a bit don’t you pup.” A very, very small wrinkly old dog moved out of the light, it seems that with age dogs get very good at this kind of thing. “I am Nipper, messenger for the elder dogs, the hairy holders of light.” Nipper bowed his head and looked up from time to time as if waiting for something, he let out a little quiet squeaky bark to speed things along.

“Oh, oh I see, um, I’m Paul, Paul the dog and I’m the stealer of sausages.” Nipper shook his head in disbelief and looked me up and down forming some sort of assessment  upon my puppy person, emphasis on the ass. “Um, sorry, but this feels a little intrusive, and to tell you the truth unbelievably weird, so you can leave the way you came in little chihuahua Yoda.

“You will follow me now Paul, Stealer of sausages” Nipper’s left eye seemed to twitch at having to say this obviously stupid title. “I’m bloody going nowhere mate, its late, pouring it down, and I’m tired after all the jumping down the stairs stuff. So good day Mr Nipper, or more to the point good night.”

All I heard after that statement were two sharp determined claps of Nipper’s paws and the back door flew off its hinges as lightening flashed right on cue. What stood in that door way was a stray hound from hell! Its fur so black all I could make out were the dark red eyes, the pouring rain not even effecting him. I managed to sort of dribble “blurgle flagaaga maa waaa” before I passed out on the cold kitchen floor.

I love dreams they are the cozy moments where I don’t have to wait for food and everything is made out of stuff I can wee on. I never really like to wake up that much, but when I am awake a different adventure starts. Waking up now on the other paw, did not feel like an adventure, more of a nightmare.

The air wafted a pet shop scent mixed with a skip stench, housed in a dark wooden room lit by candle light. The dogs surrounding me were all unaware that I had regained consciousness. A strange bunch of mangy old woofers bit, scratched and shook themselves around me. “Buster, the chosen one has awoken, looks like a bag of moldy sprouts to me.” The gathered dogs circled me and began to hum and sing.

“The one with the voice, the sounder choice. To start the age conference. The time has come, now lets hum. To start the age of conference.” One dog seemed to get a little carried away with the humming, and danced a little while giving the tune some razzmatazz, he got a good old clip round the back of the head.

“Rise Paul the dog, voice of the doggy generation. we have a lot to tell you.” I stood up to my proudest hight, tail outstretched chin held high, I cleared my throat and said “blurgle falgaaga maa waa” and collapsed. “I told ya’ sack of moldy sprouts”.

Photos courtesy of Gregg and Michael and Flickr

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Escape to Victory


The loneliness felt when your owner packs her school bag for the first time and toddles off to school can only be compared to the time when my friend Rex woke up one day without his nuts.

I howled for Lilly, my paws scrabbling on the windowsill, the gut retching emotion of abandonment filled my soul as I skulked to a corner and whined a little. I chewed enough trainers to make a shoe repair man retire early. Alas nothing filled the gaping hole left by my Lilly running off 6 hours a day to playschool… selfish git.

A wise dog once said ‘chew a shoe once and you”ll get taught a lesson. Do it again and you’re F%$KED. So I was in the dog house, and of course it was raining ‘dogs and dogs’ as I sat in my kennel paws over my ears to cut out the loud rain. “So in the dog house eh? It happens to us all my friend.” A dark smelly shadow lingered in the corner of the rainy garden.

“But don’t be disheartened, this is no time for thinking about what you did wrong, its about working out how you got caught!” An old wet raggedy dog stepped into the cascading light that beamed from the kitchen window. A comforting smile radiated from his withered gray snout. I stumbled forth in a squeaky surprised shout “I, I chewed 13 pairs of shoes.”

“You bloody tit.” The comforting smile turned into a disapproving and judging frown. “You simple or something? Chewing shoes? that’s not worth doing time over you Muppet, you gotta go for the big score, the type you bury then leave to your puppies!” The wiffy old stranger seemed to get very excited at this point. “Chewing bloody shoes, a kennels to good for ya!” Then a thought came to mind as I sat there listening to something that can only be described as a fury toilet.

“Who are you and, sorry to be so forward but, how did you get into my garden?” A wistful solemn look overtook the features of this drenched fluffy latrine. “I, my young pup, am the dog who was sent to the eternal dog house.” The old mutt swung road with paws reached out appealingly for maximum effect, giving his voice a tearful wobble. “That’s right mate, I’s got the life sentence to the dog house, never again to snooze by the fire, nor nuzzle me owners tootsies.”

After a remarkable amount of thoughtful silence he joyfully sprung up to me, paw out stretched and yelped “Terry’s the name recruitment’s me game.” Shaking my paw ferociously as I wobbled up and down trying to offer him my name “Pa, Pau, aul, ul’s my name, and I ha hav ven’t really figured out what my ga game is ye yet… I like chasing cats?” This dramatic creature fell back in amazement almost knocking over a garden gnome.

“You wot! Haven’t gotta game? We all love chasing those fluffy bastards, but we gotta have a special game young sprog, its a crazy old world out there, you cant float around like a fart in the wind, you’ll be whist into troubled waters that way tiny chops.” His numerous connected analogies were causing me problems, but maybe he was onto something, now Lilly was gone for a large part of the day I needed direction, I needed purpose! I needed to see the world!

“Shoo go on shoo you mangy old mutt how did you get in here!” Light boomed from the back door as Lilly’s mother shot out of the house aiming a frying pan right at Terry’s face. When the moment calls for it that old timer sure can move like a track runner on a questionable performance enhancing concoction.

A fading bark bellowed from the bushes “You gotta have a game pup, you gotta have a dream!” With Terry’s crackly old voice track running through my mind I laid down to sleep as the rain pattered around me. “Paul’s me name, escaping is me game.” For the first time since Lilly left for school I truly slept like a dog.

Photo courtesy of maistora and awee_17 at flickr

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The Catchase: The first of many

My was life was unraveling like some really well made animated Disney film but without the comedy relief stooge. Food rained from the heavens I was receiving tummy rubs on a daily bases. I had more attention then a new born baby. My owner Lilly was always by my side, and bedtime was at the foot of her bed.

But something seemed to be missing, it was as if some major part of my being had missed out on an important factor in my life. I couldn’t put my paw on it but something wasn’t right. I began investigating, I sniffed here, I scratched there and I shuffled my puppy legs everywhere but there was not a single thing wrong.

Then I could smell it, it was intoxicating and revolting at the same time. What was that! Whatever it was I wanted to chase it down and bark at it really loudly. “Come on Paul lets go for your first walkies!” That word, wow what an effect it has on my tail. The entire bottom half of my body seemed to be swinging with my tail. I was baffled and intrigued, but maybe this walkies business was just what my investigation needed.

Words can hardly describe the feeling of this fantastic invention called ‘the park’. The smells! The sights! The sounds! everywhere I looked there seemed to be different types of grown up dogs. Cute ones, ugly ones and the kind of dogs you don’t want to ask for directions. Next time though I will not be going to the park on an empty bladder, oh the situations I missed out on!

Then Boom! It was as if someone had slapped me over the head with a wet smelly animal and ran away. There it was! All fluffy and overly whiskerly just sitting there grooming itself, disgusting. Whist my owner was in a deep important conversation with her mother about ice cream I pelted for the cat. The feline monstrosity looked up from licking its paw and just looked in amazement at a tiny puppy with crazed determination charging his way.

Ha! I’ve got you now you fury feeble fop! The cat who was about twice my size at this point just seemed to wait, with what cats can call eyebrows raised to there fullest. Then the cat made a cheeky side step to the left and my puppy mush smacked straight into a tree. “Muppet” was all I heard as I saw my new nemesis prance away as consciousness faded. “I’ll get bigger! And I will get you! Was all I managed before I fell under, and dreamed about the new meaning to my life; catching a cat!

Photo courtesy of Jason at Molenda.us

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How many Roads must a Dog walk down

I was born a ball of fluff with shiny eyes, gazing up at my mother who looked down at me and licked my face with a massive wet sandpaper tongue.  I was nose nudged to my brothers and sisters and thus my life began fighting for a teat amongst a sea of swinging tails. 

I learnt many lessons during the days of teat battles, its not all wet noses and gummy puppy bites. Have you ever seen a bunch of tussling puppies as they near attack the tired looking mother pooch, mystified at the frantic movements of the fluffly  army assaulting her. The only situation that ceased the teat tussle was a human visiter, and so the cute crazy circus ensued.

Brother after sister after brother were clutched out of the jumping barking mayhem by squeaky young girls, head tilting ladies and ear tugging boys. Until all that was left was me looking up at my mother once more, wondering why I sat here missing my brothers and sisters, but at least I wasn’t going hungry now.

Then she entered, the world eased into slow-motion, my eyes followed her as my puppy paws clutched at the cage. Stopping at the gerbil hutch my heart stuttered, as she poked the glass tank housing the snake I let out  a yelp. ‘arrr look at da liddle puppy’ there are no words that can explain the feeling of your owner picking you up as if clutched from the dark.

Colors, trees, cars, houses, smells, oh the smells, letter boxes, postman and millions, billions and trillions of people. The chitty chitty bang bang trip to my new home almost made my eyes shoot from my face, as my Lilly fussed my ears continuously. These where the happy times, my first of many roads a dog must walk down.

Woof

Picture curtsey of tobias.com 

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