Space

It is just common dog-sense as to when to keep my distance.  Alpha human female hasn't been well, and the energy is way down.  So I leave her alone.  Most of the time.  I do try to animate her occasionally.  She always turns to me, which is a good thing, but responds in different ways.  She may just give me a look.  Or she may stroke me.  Or she may say something.  Whatever it is, I simply stay close.  Being present without demanding something seems to be the one behaviour Alpha human female can perpetually tolerate, well, more than tolerate, my being close by penetrates the innate human fear of Aloneness.  Of course I understand that perfectly.  Dogs don't want to be alone, we absolutely need company and attention, and interaction.  We like to snuggle up so that even in our sleep we can feel the security of the group/family/pack, whatever you're calling it yourself.  No, I don't feel sorry for her, dogs don't feel pity in that human kinda sense.  But I intuit that there's an imbalance, a fragility, and I respond in doggie ways.  Tomorrow, I don't know about that.  Today, this is what is.  And that's all that's to it.

Superiority, my ass

Well, I did say I'm the superior dog, didn't I, because I am more attentive and listen to commands quicker than big sis Rosie.  Yesterday though it was me that suffered from temporary deafness, or better, all I could hear was the pheasant's calling!  Ahhh, to tear through the undergrowth, nose close to the ground, all senses channelled into one thing, and one thing only:  The pursuit of game.  Yes, I was full of myself.  I admit to enjoying the chase, the chase being a means to no end.  Then, the sound of a whistle did penetrate that thick skin of mine eventually, and I abandoned pheasant and chase to return to the pack, when, oh dear, I couldn't find them, and more tracking had to be done.  I realised that human Alpha's had done this on purpose, for me to learn a lesson, at least a momentary one.  And oh bliss, when finally I caught up with my pack, and there they were, the two human Alpha's, big sis Rosie and old doggie-lady Tine.  There is safety in numbers!  And the pack does mean EVERYTHING!  Not that I am sorry, that's a human thing.  What I felt though was the ease and security and connection, and me, I have a definite place in this pack, it's my birthright to have a place.  And it's not on the top rungs of the ladder.  So, whatever superiority I have is really only there by authority and consent of the pack.  If they acknowledge me, I feel what humans might call 'happy'.  Happiness brought about by a firmly outlined place as a full member of the pack.  Dog heaven!  But yeah, there is this secret wish of being looked up at rather than down on, which is genetically what makes dogs and wolves forever strive for a higher up place in the pack.  Nobody wants to be Omega!  But worse than being Omega, much much worse, is having NO place.  I love the photograph though at the top of this blog, it really makes the viewer look up at me, doesn't it?  Hahaha!  I don't want to take that too serious either and remain little Nell, without the puff-up.  Wruff!

Politics, grrrrrr!

There seems to be some sort of, of course complicated and human-made, upheavals going on with a thing humans call 'government'.  Tut.  And all these goings-on they dub 'politics'.  Tut again.  I see my humans looking at a screen on the wall that shows pictures of stuff but because it doesn't smell and can't be touched, I think they are not really there.  My humans though act as if all else has vanished around them, and become staring entities.  Last night in particular.  This 'government' was called dysfunctional, unbalanced, illusory, in total disarray and people thinking they are very important made very important speeches looking awfully important, insisting on making very very important points.  Snuff.  I only watch their body language and can discern from afar that most of them don't have an ounce of what it takes to be pack-leaders.  So I ignore them.  I can do that easily, but not so my humans!  They kept shaking their heads, and they laughed, but in a desperate/ironic sortofway, and I sensed some sadness from them as well as disbelief and anger.  So what they were watching made them just as unstable as the topic itself.  Me, I would only describe to the doggie way of 'politics'.  It's simple, it's efficient, it's immediate.  There are no such things as lies.  Of course, I don't have a choice in this.  That is who I am, and somehow, lucky me, I know who I am exactly, and that's all that's to it.  Last night, I kept to myself for a while, then jumped on the satee and snuggled up to human Alpha male.  His mind didn't know I was there, but he started stroking me, and in doing so, he calmed down and relaxed.  See, it's easy!!!!  The older bitch, Tine, who I totally respect (one growl sends me flying down the corridor away from her) gets upset herself when the humans are upset.  She starts barking, her tail wags anxiously and she paces up and down, up and down.  It's because she looks upon them as out of kilter and this is what she has learned also, being a nervous dog at the best of times.  So we have:  Two humans, upset, one dog, anxious, one dog (big sis Rosie) melting deeper into her basket, and only one dog (me) still standing!!!  I percieve it then to be my job to stay strictly calm, and hope they'll all follow suit, lending my energy, so to speak.  Good news is, I am only over one year old, but well equipped to help, and actually, I enjoy this.  I enjoy helping out if I can.  It's fulfilling to have a job at any given time, whatever it may be.  Which is more than I can say about those resigning ministers.  But just one look at their monetary status might be a clue as to why they just might not mind too much...

Found it!

What a walk we had today.  The human Alpha, Chris, kept putting small edibles in tree trunks or buried them beneath loose soil.  Rosie and me had to wait and take turns sniffing and digging them out.  Whoa, it took some composure not to tear away and start diiiiigggginngg!  But of course, there is this thing around our necks, the collar, that gets tucked at, and then we have no choice, have we.  The pleasure though, aaahh, when I can completely smell the earth, a commingling of moss, heaviness, rot, growth, worm, moisture, coolness and the color brown, that's when I am fully who I am, animal.  No guilt, no prejudice, no worries, just dog.  It's said we live in the moment.  Oh, yes, we do.  There is no other moment to live in, is there.  Thank goodness, we dogs don't get our non-existing knickers into a twist about it!  Today is a good day.  Feeling groovy!  A snooze produces lots of grunts, paws kicking the air, and me, upside-down, snoring.  You can't forget I'm here. No, no, noooo.

Nell tells it how it is

Of course I knew immediately that I wasn't in a normal, that is, dog-normal, environment when I was very small.  Dogs know these things.  It's called instinct.  So, my instict told me that a sofa is not a typical dog-resting  facility, but the warmth and comfort is not to be smirked at.  The black wet-looking rag beside me is Rosie, who fancies herself to be the big sis.  But really, I can wrap her around my little paw, and have learned how to do that from a tender age on.  Rosie is food gulper, a water lover, a most submissive 4 year old flatcoat, at times though the Retriever in her fulfills itself by a good ol' rabbit chase accompanied by temporary deafness to cries by the humans: 'Rosie, come here', and no amount of that brings her back anyway.  Me, I'm the superior dog.  Why?  I save energies, comply much sooner, and scoop up a treat.  Economics, economics!!! 

Nell's introducing herself, 4 paws 'n all

Hi, my name is Nell.  There is another one they have attached to me, and I do know that that's also ME, and it's Nelly-mouse.  I have four paws, a tail, a snout and fur, but that's as much as I have in common with a mouse!  Yikes, these little grey imps have given me the runaround.  Me and my pals, big sis Rosie, a flat-coated retriever, and Tine, a mongrel, suppose, a mix between springer and sheepdog.  Home is the countryside, an old council house with the fat walls made of irregular stone 120 years ago, same in doggie generations.  Anyhow, after having been puppywalked (I'll explain later) for a year, I was officially designated 'brood bitch'.  Lot of fuss, that was!  I heard that in our breed, yellow Labrador Retriever, no less, sometimes not so good for breeding methingies can occur, so I was x-rayed, or rather, my elbows and hips were, and tests were done on my eyes.  All clear, I'm fit as a fiddle, healthy, on the small side, but that shouldn't matter.  I can sniff the excitement of THEM.  And all I want to say to them is:  Relax, all will be well!  Ach, humans.  Making things complicated.  They do need me, so they do.  To teach them stuff.  But surprisingly, they think that only I need them! PPhhhh!  Yea, to bring on the dinner and go on hunting excursions. And it's true too, that I also am on a journey to learn.  A bit scary it is.  A bit adventurous. Cool!