Saturday, 4 June 2016

My Dog is a Better Person Than Me


Well, I only left a fortnight between posts this time rather than a month, so that's something!  Couple of people have told me recently that I don't post enough these days, which is both flattering and surprising.  Didn't cross my mind that anyone might read my waffle (initially wrote "consume", but was creeped out for reasons I can't explain by "comsume my waffle."  Consume my waffle, friend! *Lightly touches your knee, maintains intense eye contact*) on the regular.  Thank you to anyone that does.  Means a lot to me that my verbal vom tickles some people enough to have them keep reading these silly posts and encouraging me to carry on.  Just... shut up, you're being soppy!

...something in my eye.  

I don't have a great deal to catch you up on.  Went to a wedding do last weekend and did some moderate to oh-my-God-your-poor-pickled-liver imbibing of spirits (not big, not clever, kids!). Here is an image of A and I looking presentable and sophisticated on a bus at 2am:

Sweaty fringed and gurning is the new classy.

Bar that lovely event full of friends I haven't seen properly for a while, I've not got out much.  Evidence:

Yeah.  Don't know.  Haunting, isn't it?

I've got to spend lots of time with my small zoo during my spells of hermitude, which has been nice.  I've been a dog owner (That sounds like too much responsibility.  Dog botherer? Not like that! Jesse and I have a purely platonic relationship.  Almost business associate-esque.  I feed him...he lets me feed him) for about 6 months now, and I've got to know the little bugger quite well.  Him and his many, many odd habits such as:
  • Land swimming.
  • Staring unblinking at you whilst sitting on your chest in a bid to stop you sleeping.  Ever.
  • Running downstairs using only 3 legs - nothing wrong with the fourth, he just doesn't use it on descents for reasons only known to him.
  • Cry-breathing even when he's clearly happy.
I've also come to the depressing realisation that if he were to wake up human one day (if we ignore the fact that it would be just a little bit fucking terrifying, especially as he shares our bed and I'm imagining him as an adult *shudder*), he'd be a better person than me.  Here's why: 

1. He loses his shit with joy at having the same food at every meal:
I envy this trait in my mutt.  Don't get me wrong, food excites me more than most things in life.  Life is just stuff that keeps me occupied between meals, and I think that people who "forget to eat" and find that sitting down for munchies gets in the way of a produtivity are clearly from another planet.  However, if I had to eat the same thing for breakfast, lunch and dinner every day of my life, I would probably have to top myself.  If I had my dog's boundless enthusiasm for "OMG MORE dehydrated meat nuggets!  THIS IS THE BEST DAY OF MY LIFE!!", I would be capable of eating those "balanced meals" I'm always hearing about at every mealtime as opposed to the cheese-and-sugarsplosions I tend to favour whenever I can get them.  

2.  Everyone is awesome!!
Jesse has zero social anxiety.  With people at least.  He does sound like a kettle coming to the boil whenever the neighbours' jack russell looks at him the wrong way.  He loves and trusts every single person he meets and will proceed to kill them with licks.  I have no desire to sample strangers'  sweat glands with my mouth, but I wouldn't mind not constantly telling myself that I'm "standing in an antisocial way" or "smiling weird" in any given situation where I'm with more than two other people.  

3.  If he doesn't want to do something, he won't.
Walkies in the rain is the main example that comes to mind.  I need walkies more than Jesse does - come rain or shine.  My excess twitchies that need to be walked off  regularly don't give a shit whether it looks like Oz outside or no.  Know who does?  Jesse.  He will allow me to drag him down to the bottom of the street while he acts like he's contracted rigor mortis of the legs, until he finally "gives in" and starts to play crafty buggers with me.  He will pretend like he's all "oh, okay, let's go then" until he finds something interesting to pee on (on a normal walk, this will happen up to 100,000,000,00000..0 times, so this in itself is not unusual).  He will then turn around to face home and start trotting merrily back.  "Yeah, we were going this way, weren't we?  Off we go, human.  Keep up now!"  Wily sod.

4.  He's not deterred by others' blatant hatred of him
Most sane people would back off after just one smack around the head, let alone several.  For six months, Jesse has been pestering the cat with relentless attention.  Walter has been responding with equally relentless hostility - choosing one day to scratch Jesse on the tongue.  Which was terrifying.  When your pooch starts inexplicably bleeding at the mouth and charging in in circles around the garden, you can't help but wonder whether you've adopted one of Satan's minions. Anyhow, this month something weird has happened.  The cat seems to actually like the dog now.  They're having snuggle times, during which Walter will only bat Jesse around the head occasionally - claws in - in an "oh, you!" kind of way.

Lesson learned:  If you get the impression that someone doesn't like you, follow them around day and night and stamp your feet at them until they cave in and have to at least tolerate you

5.  He's easily pleased
We actually have this in common.  If you give me food and let me out to run around occasionally, I'm yours.  However, his excitement is a LOT more visible than mine.  My favourite thing to do at the minute is to buy him things to chew on that are bigger than his head.  This causes him to completely forget how to use his body.  He'll clamp onto the chew with every muscle in his face while the rest of his body goes into freak out mode behind him.  Probably just as well that I don't express excitement in this way.  Don't think I'd make too many friends at Reading Festival this year by growling, whining and dropping to the floor like a bag of ferile cats.

...And for the sake of balance (sort of):

The One Way in Which I am a Better Person than my Dog

I don't take a dump by the front door in dirty protest of everyone else not waking up when I want them to.

Yeah, I'm looking at you, you tiny weirdo.

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