Do you know the answers?

Why is that I won’t eat kibble without human food, but I’ll eat cigarette butts I find on the street? 

And why do I spend an inordinate amount of time sniffing the perfect spot to poo, but I’ll lie down on top of filth without any appraisal needed?

And another thing; why do I tip toe on wet grass, but relish running through sand and mud? 



She loves me.

Life is good.

I’m scratching myself.

Do I smell treats?

How do you love?

Just to remind everyone, I am a dog. Therefore, I don’t really have the most developed or profound understanding of love. I know I experience it all the time; licking my humans, eating a treat, ripping a toy apart. But I don’t really experience love, in an emotional or self aware fashion. It is projected onto me by humans. To be honest, whenever I wag my tail, they think I love something. How naive of them.

Any way, I’m trying to better understand love. It is, after all, Valentine’s Day. I’m not one to celebrate such holidays or milestones (mostly because I have no concept of time) but I thought I would declare my love for another. Today. Publicly. 

Unfortunately, time zones killed the crescendo of suspense and the declaration has fallen flat and silent.

I’ve since drowned my sorrows in another love of mine. Yoghurt. And this is where it gets confusing.  Can my love for yoghurt be the same as my love for Olive? Is this the same love I have for running off leash or eating crumbs? Will my life be more complete and meaningful with Olive, or with belly rubs? Because I love all these things.

At this stage, Olive is still sleeping in Norway. She will wake up to my public declaration. She will either declare her ardent love for me, saying that I too have always been the one. Or she may quietly reject me. Either way, I hope I get more yoghurt.

Jerry vs. The Villain

It lives in the cupboard. The one underneath the stairs. I’ve seen it in there; it’s on the wall. It hides, but I’ve seen it. I watch. You need to be prepared because you can never predict when it will come out. That’s what I find most unsettling; the unpredictability. There’s no structure to its routine. No pattern.
But what I have noticed is that it never comes out alone. A human lets it out. Welcomes it out. Relies on it.

This uncompromising, deafening fiend sucks up everything in the room. It obtrusively betrays any space I occupy, stealing precious objects I have lovingly collected. Trying to protect them is futile. I stand no chance against this monster.

At first, I was petrified. I’m ashamed to say I ran and hid behind anything I could. Giant plants. Pillar candles in the fire place. Under tables and furniture. Behind the couch. No space was too small for me to squeeze into, to shield me from this beast.

In time, I found my bark. And with this, the courage I needed to finally shout What are you?, Go away!, Leave me alone! But it’s roaring head still swerved and jerked toward me. Back and forth, relentlessly. My barking didn’t deter it, there was nothing I could say. I felt powerless.

The greatest betrayal was not the monster’s aggressiveness, booming howl or even his obstinate ambition to steal every leaf, petal or piece of debris I cherish; it’s that the humans seem to encourage him. They work together, a choreographed dance back and forward, as if to confuse me from their real design; steal from Jerry. Sometimes, the humans even lock me out of the room. And lately, they’ve reprimanded me for yelling. Me! The only one with any integrity! I am the one who is against pilfering, intruding and downright disrespect.

The monster has a friend. A quiet one. With a curious head of hair; short, strong and straw like. They all work together, trying to trick me. The humans sometimes bring this strange creature out silently and drag is head along the ground, collecting things around me. I used to try to bite this one, pull his hair out. Give him some of the pain I have felt.

But I found better revenge. I know how to wait. One day I left a smelly message outside, partly obscured by a leaf. Let’s just say, I haven’t had trouble with that bristled head any more.

My Ears

My ears. They’re undoubtedly my best and worst feature. They’ve always been one of my best assets but recently, they’ve started to cause me some grief.

So here’s everything you need to know about my ears. I’ve lost all perspective on what is good or bad about them. You decide.

  1. They’re beautiful.
  2. When they dry naturally, they get small crimps.
  3. Every time I have a drink, they get saturated. To the point where I leave a trail of water and I need human hands to wring them out.
  4. I got an ear infection from swimming. Long ear canals.
  5. If you can get a perfectly timed photo, they look like wings.
  6. They can be tied into a manbun.
  7. They’re very hairy. The vet told me so.
  8. They are unbelievably soft. They need to be touched.
  9. Their length means I need a snood when I eat. I’m either a monkey or an apple.
  10. I can do hair flips with them.