Woofling everyone....
When I was a young pup I had to learn to share my food, my bed and my waterhole with my siblings, but the one thing I was sure I would never have to share, (once I got one), was my human!
This strange and unwelcome situation began straight away, as soon as I was adopted by my hooman family, the damn thing was there, forever present in our daily lives, crying constantly,
my hooman would drop whatever she was doing to pick it up and seemingly comfort it.
To be fair she did the same with me, whenever I needed comforting in those early days, when I was still feeling lost, alone and a little confused, or later when I needed wee-wees, whatever the reason, if I let out a little cry she would come running.
The difference was that I genuinely called for important reason… (well… most of the time), but the thing had different priorities.
No intruders = cry
No danger = cry
No threatening smell= cry
Saying it was crying it is an exaggeration, well sometimes it cried, but most of the time it made a noise that to me sounded like a loud… irritating… squeak
It just so happened that once my hooman left it on the sofa a couple of steps away from me and I thought this would be as good time as any to finally assert myself as the top dog, she was my hooman and I was going to make sure it knew that its relentless calling days were over.
I slowly moved closer to it and tried to sniff its intentions, but I couldn’t pick anything up, (never
a good sign in the world of dogs), it was totally disconcerting, but remembering the intruder in the window, the one that turned out to be no threat despite the lack of smell, I grew braver and carried on with my mission, one way or another it would need to learn that I and only I was my hooman’s number 1.
I got into position, prepared to pounce… and……
BLEE BLEE BLEE!!!!!
AHHHH the double crossing hyena rose the alarm!!!
It was calling my hooman, it was calling for help!!!
Naturally she came running while I quickly retreated to the other corner of the sofa, and prepared myself for a good barking to.
As soon as she picked it up, the conniving creature stopped howling.
I looked at her sheepishly from my sofa corner, and instead of barking she showed teeth, (this was a good sign in human terms), and sat next to me, puppy imitator still in one paw, she began stroking my back with her other paw, it was then that I sensed my hooman's anxiety subside, to my surprise it was replaced with irritation, but not towards me… towards the thing…
I was so confused.
What I did not mention is that every human inside and outside the den seems to be burdened with this tiresome critter, they carry it everywhere, they stroke it, they talk to it… this is something that I have a real problem with because it seems to be surrounded by a dark sickly halo, which becomes even worse when its tail is attached to it and secured on the wall like a lead to a lamppost, (why anyone would have a detaching tail I still do not understand today)….
Anyway, I am barking away from my point, where was I… oh yes, I have a problem with it because humans spend more time with the hairless diseased creature than with each other, something incomprehensible to K9, to us socialization is at the base of everything.
Sometimes I try to get between my hooman and the thing, but in the end unfortunately I never managed to get rid of it.
One thing that helped me was realising that my hooman has no particular affection for the thing she calls “the cell”, but even if the tiresome cuckoo actually causes her stress, she will still respond to its calls.
My conclusion? Simple really, this is a human addiction, it is a bad human version of catnip to felines, and my K9 job isn’t to judge my hooman’s malady but to support her and love her in spite of it!!!
Till our next woofling,
Lots of licks,
Biscuit
If you would like to look at some of my hooman's pastel portraits and shop go to:
... and don't forget to spread the scent and leave a nice licky like!!!
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