WE are coming up to an anniversary – my first year with my two legs and away from my mother and brothers and sisters. I must say, I am very happy here and I can’t complain about lack of attention. I think I chose quite well because I have my regular two-legs pretty much trained to respond to my every need, and a nice line-up of surrogates and aunts for visits or to stay with me and the cat when my two are away.
Life has been rather strange this past few weeks but I have made a great new friend – actually I have made a couple of new friends, one with two legs and one with four.
My two two-legs are quite different – there is one who seems always to be on the go and takes me for walks and the other one who takes things at a more sensible pace, allowing me to curl up with her and sleep. But she is the one who is much better at play. For a start she can throw my throwing toy a proper length down the hall and she can toss my catching toys so that I can jump up and catch them. The other one couldn’t throw a straight ball if she tried and as for throwing balls a long way for me and my friend Albie, well, it’s pathetic. That’s what. Albie can’t even be bothered to run when she throws it because he says she has no sense of direction so all he knows is that he won’t know which way it’s going but it won’t be very far.
A couple of weeks ago it all turned upside down and the hyperactive one was curled up and asleep and definitely didn’t want me anywhere near her and the other one was doing everything (but she still found time to throw my ball). Then the hyperactive one went away and I got to spend a lot of time with my auntie Margaret and then she came back, but somebody new came to stay. And that’s when I met my new friend, who is the hyperactive one’s son and came to see her from Germany.
Now, he’s a real find. He took one look at me and said how handsome I am. That’s a good start. He’s tall and strong and could hold things for me to swing from and he walked me and played with me and shared his cheese sandwiches with me. (Mind you, I knew I had gone too far when I climbed on the table when he wasn’t looking and took his beef pasty. It tasted good, though.)
We all went out together and met the two-legs’ friend, my auntie Jo, with her dog, my friend Albie, and another dog called Boz. Visiting friend and auntie Jo and we three went to a river and we all got very wet and had a wonderful time. Albie says that Boz is staying with his two-legs for some weeks because Boz’s two-legs has been in hospital, like my hyperactive one, so we are hoping to get together again soon.
Visiting friend has had to go back to his home now and I miss him. I sit by his bedroom door but I know he’s not there. My two-legs tell me that he has three children who all love dogs so I am hoping they will all come and stay soon and we can really have lots of good games and walks.
The hyperactive one is getting better, she says, but is still doing what she calls taking it a bit easy. This is very strange. She goes and sits in the sitting room, with the curtains drawn, with the cat on her lap, and watches the television. It seems to be a ritual. There is a plink-plink noise, and lots of people cheering, and two people in white with a ball going boing-boing between them. I think this looks like a good game. My two-legs say I would probably love it. But apparently I would not be allowed to take part because if I caught those balls, I would be in big trouble. Possibly even worse than eating that beef pasty.
I do think the world of two-legs is very strange and confusing.
Happy anniversary to me!
Pippin, the wire-haired fox terrier