Sunday, 5 February 2017

Putting the Words into the Dogs mouth

Putting words in the dog’s mouth

During the walks with Jenny I still amuse myself with imagining if she could talk and the conversation. Last night’s walk was no different than the many others we have travelled together.

Just to put things in perspective I have written entire chapters of the story I am working on at that time in my head. Then on returning to the computer added it to the draft copy.

The following was from last night’s walk, I hope you like it.
****

“Well that was a bit of a shock, master, after our walk at mid day. There I was sleeping on my mat that I have only just got used to, and you woke me up for a walk. Imagine my shock to find out when you open the door that it is dark, and I have not been sleeping for a whole day.”


“Wait until the summer comes and then I am taking you on fitness walks, Jenny. When I am finished you will look like a Greyhound.”

“Ha, Ha, Ha, did you find that joke in a Christmas cracker? I saw your fitness training on that hill, and it falls short of the speed of a snail. You had better take my lead and then I can give you a tow when you are flagging. If the hill was anything to go by the first tow will take place one hundred yards from the start.”


“That’s right you keep thinking that way if it makes you happy. You are fat and need more exercise, and at least it is not raining.”

“It is cold though and how dare you talk to a Lady like that?”

“You are not a Lady, you are a bitch.”

“Now you have resorted to insulting me with derogatory names. I remember years ago when you had a lovely soft and warm Wilton carpet going from wall to wall.”


“What are you talking about, Jenny. You have only been with me since July last year.”

“Whatever, but it seems like years. Don’t change the subject. What happened to my comfort carpet?”

“Well if you must know it was covered in Labrador hairs.”

“I know and they were making me sneeze, Master. It must have been off that other dog you had in the room before me.”

“There was no other dog in the room before you so that narrows the field of the dog the hairs have fallen off.”



 “So now calling me names is not enough you have started the blame game. However, I am not shallow and I will treat your pitiful attempt at amusing your mind with contempt. I will say though that to remove the carpet was a little extreme. You could have just cleaned it with a brush.”

“Well I thought of that, but I couldn’t get the councils mechanical road sweeper through the front door. The other option was to send you away and get another Golden Labrador from Pozega Dogs that never dropped her hairs eighteen months of the year.”

“As you never sent me away that must mean I was worth the effort of keeping.”

“You got that in one, Jenny, because the laminated flooring that I have in my room now was £110 cheaper than getting another dog.”


“Hey--what? Now listen here PAL—it’s a bit spooky down this lane with no light other than your torch. Last night I saw two big eyes looking at us as we passed through the wood. They were hidden behind that big thick bramble bush.”

“I never heard your bark or growl to give me any warning”

“Yea right, Pal, and what planet were you on at the time. I saw the eyes and the danger and tip-toed past as quiet as I could so as not to disturb the monster. I might add that it is not easy to do that with four feet either.”

“Dear God; You think it was a monster, really? It was probably a deer there are lots in these woods. Then again there have been Pumas sighted around the South Downs.”
“That’s alright then—what’s a puma?”


“It is a large cat with razor sharp teeth and claws like kitchen knives. It is also about the same size as you were before you got fat.”

“You’re insulting me again.”

“It is because of the Puma why I always carry my walking stick with the brass point at the bottom.

“That is another thing that is giving me a headache, Master. Stop tapping that damn stick on the road it is disturbing the silence of the night.”


“You’re scared.”

“No I am not.”

“Let’s turn about and go home.”

“That is about the best suggestion I have heard since we started this walk. Hey wait for me, we have got to stick together when danger is lurking all about us.”

“You speak very good English now. You must have been listening to me talking to Suzie.”

“Yea right, all I can hear from inside your room is, “Get up, or you will be late for work you lazy slut bag.” That taught me a lot, and now I have that implanted in my head I might put in for a K9s degree. That’s like a Masters but for dogs. I might point out that my English is better than your two words of Romanian. [Sit and come,] because both of those words are universal. If you say food when you have the dog biscuit scoop in your hand, I like that. It has a nice ring to it.”

“What my Romanian word for food.”

“Don’t make me laugh, Master. I was talking about the sound of the biscuits as they tumble into my bowl.”

“Laugh?--that will be a first. You always have that miserable look on your face.”


“That is not a miserable look it is my alert and observant look, and if you find that hard to believe it is because I have had a hard life. It so happens that I come from a long line of fierce fighting dogs that were feared throughout the world. They were in packs fighting and killing the Hun and chasing them through the Romanian forests.”

“Were they really? I don’t remember reading about them in History. What were they called?”

“Wolves”

Yea right, err—um, Jenny, why are you pressing up against my leg and not running forward?”

“Puma’s”

“You are a coward.”

“Whatever, let’s get back where it is safe, and in the warm.” 

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Be well Ian