Dexter Dog Diary, Week One, Thursday
Thursday, (perşembe, peR-shem-beh, 11 mart, 2010)
There is a restless and slightly resentful atmosphere this morning. Could this be due to dear old Sonny? I heard him creeping about last night. I have a feeling that X heard him too. But, I know what he was up to. One cannot be too sure with cats, but I think I have sussed his motive. When Wiggie and Co. were discussing the instructions that they had written down for the Axes, I heard her say: “Sonny likes to sleep under the bed”. Although he is normally compliant, X muttered: “Not on my watch!” when he came to that paragraph.
Well, X and Y are both out for a pee during the night (you’d think by now they ought to know not to have a cup of tea after 8pm!) and the bedroom door is not properly closed. Sonny decides to assert his rights and sneaks in. But, over-confident, he hops up on the bed. I am sure that it is not deliberate, because X does pitch about a bit every night, over he rolls and Sonny hits the deck! Far be it from me to enter the mind of a cat: however, with his litter tray nearby, Sonny makes for the bathroom again… You guessed it; in exactly the same place, mat duffed up as before, but this time there is a considerable amount of pee and, with the benefit of time in which to succumb to the force of gravity, it has spread itself out. There is more than you would expect from a medium sized cat. I reckon he strained every drop he could muster. After the initial alarm, when she realises that an uninvited creature is in the bedroom, Y takes the episode (no pun intended) in good part and attempts to devise a plan for Sonny’s sleeping accommodation that will satisfy his penchant for low headroom.
The solution is based upon where, after some concern and considerable searching, he was eventually found. It is not a large apartment. I could have told them that he was curled-up on one of the dining chairs, invisible from view, under the table. If they think he will agree to that as an acceptable place for his bed-blanket, they can think again! I foresee many more pee-clearing exercises. The mat will need a wash this time, but it should be dry for tonight. Watch this space!
After breakfast Y is off with Helen again, feeling guilty for leaving X alone. But he is not alone; he has us: a fact that, surprisingly, he does appreciate. Before she goes, there are a few reminders on how to use the Notepad. Well, that is it for the rest of the morning! He has already offered Paul, Keeno’s owner, to fix his car number-plate (hanging on by one screw) and has collected the key ready to do the job, but now he is well and truly side-tracked. By the way… he is the master of “sidetrack”: If there was one thing left to do in his entire life, he would find some sidetrack!
There is sadness about, however, and I learn later that the Notepad tells him that an old friend has died, suddenly, from a chest infection. He doesn’t stay sad for long, realising that this man, in particular, knew that life is for the living - in more ways than one!
The Notepad sings its final jingle and he is soon out “techno-ing” the number plate. This does not take long and we are soon out hiking across the meadow and through the olive groves towards the nearest accessible hilltop. He says we are not going far; but I have my suspicions.
I reckon that, in some former life, I must have been a Latin scholar. To be “demoted” and come back as a dog, whoever I was must have led a very interesting life! Anyway, odd phrases come into my mind: like carpe diem. I hear warning bells: mental instructions and information should flow from me to him – not the other way round! He is thinking of his old friend and I get a mental picture of a man, half-English, half-French, playing outside-half at rugby, opening the batting at cricket yet finding the time to play jazz in England and France. Long after his own playing days were done, he was still teaching youngsters to play rugby. The bass-playing batsman certainly knew how to “seize the day”!
Whether this will affect me in any practical way, I do not know. We dogs can pick up vibes, but we are still developing the skills to control humans. At just over half-way through the first week, I would say that things are going pretty much according to plan. Even Sonny’s little escapades have only caused a minor ripple in the lake of life’s calm and serene surface. Hark at me!
When we get back from our walk, he decides that it might be a good idea to lock the car he was working on. Also, he sticks a bit of tape on the cracked number-plate holder. I shouldn’t think that will last long in this sun! He is thinking of offering to walk Keeno because Paul is suffering from a cold. I am sending out strong vibes to tell him that some fresh air will cure the cold and, anyway, I get exhausted just watching Keeno leaping about all over the place. So far, my vibes are winning the day. This sets the pattern for a relaxing evening; but not before he has a “techno” session with the Dirt Devil. Not satisfied with the sucking force, he checks the dust-bag; OK. Then, he rotates the beater; lo and behold, the rubber belt comes off the drive-spigot!
He has the luck of Lazarus, really. Checking out the re-fitting of the belt, he finds that which was obvious in the first place; the rubber inspection-cover. Through this, a blind man could see that the air vent is severely blocked. It is reduced to less than the diameter of a pencil. Perhaps he wasn’t being so fussy about the suction after all. I quite enjoy the self-satisfied vibe he gives off – but I must not relax my efforts to control!