Monthly Archives: January 2012

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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