Lest We Forget
I am a fair-weather Tibbie. I know it. Beloved knows it. Everyone who understands me knows it. That is why I am still in shock that Beloved took me out this morning in the rain!
I have said frequently how much I dislike water. I do not like swimming pools, and I do not like wet paws.
Melbourne has had a couple of really wet and cold days. Quite correctly Beloved hasn’t taken us out to the dog park and whilst I miss our social gatherings, I quite understand that even Beloved cannot control the weather. Or at least I don’t think she can.
This morning Beloved asked her beloved to check on the satellite weather and he came back and told her there was a dry spell for a bit. So we went out. Well! We were almost at the park when the first rainfall began. I had already made my displeasure known by trudging at the side of the road and refusing to walk on the wet grass of the nature strip.
Beloved hesitated and I willed her to turn around but then the sun broke through and we continued. It’s is not as uncomfortable for Beloved, her paws are covered but I was miserable. Even The Princess looked a little downcast and if you knew her you would know that is some achievement.
We got to the gate of the reserve and I could not believe my eyes. There was a huge puddle and Beloved expected me to walk through it! It covered my nails. My paws were very wet and I hated it.
I sniffed around a little but all the usual smells were diluted by the rain and the only dogs there were tearing around behaving in a very stupid manner. Two of them had coats on. I have a coat but I don’t like wearing it, although it is a very fine purple coat. Zena has a blue coat and hates hers.
We had only been in the park a few minutes when the rain poured down. Beloved was wet, I was wet, The Princess was wet and everything we smelt, touched and brushed past was wet. It was a horrible experience.
Fortunately Beloved must have realised her mistake because we didn’t go all around the reserve. She stopped at the second gate and we came home by a shorter route.
A few minutes later, wet and bedraggled we had to suffer again as our paws and legs were washed and then we were finally free to roll on the carpet and dry out. I did sit and look reproachfully at Beloved for a time just so that she remembers the next time it is wet that I am not an all weather Tibbie.
Then at lunchtime Beloved put the television on and I learnt about Gallipoli because today is ANZAC day. A day when Australia and New Zealand remembers the World War 1 campaign in Turkey where so many soldiers died.
As you know I am a Tibbie who has a strong opinion about loud noises and violence and I would not have enjoyed war. I am quite sure I would have been very frightened if I had been put on that beach and been shot at. I am not a nimble Tibbie and I suspect I would have been among the many who died on the beach.
We know that about 43,000 British soldiers died, 15,000 French, 8,700 Australians, 2,700 New Zealanders, 1,370 Indians and 60,000 Turkish. That is a lot men, a lot of men who were loved and missed by their pack.
What I learnt made me very relieved to be living at a time when there is not a world war. You may feel that this a silly thing for a Tibbie to say and I daresay you are right. Even during war time I acknowledge that a Tibbie is unlikely to be too much use. But animals do go to war. I admit it is not usually the stocky, hairy mountain dogs but the big, strong, fast dogs that are used, but nevertheless even big strong dogs can feel fear.
In Gallipoli donkeys and m
ules were used to carry men who were wounded and they must have been frightened by all the noise and even been wounded themselves. There is talk that they may have used tracker dogs too. I am pleased that I am not a tracker dog.
Warfare is not in my blood. We are dogs who will sound an alert but then we move aside for our Beloved’s to deal with the threat. I am not sure what I would do in a dangerous situation but I hope I never have to find out.
But for many dogs war is what they have been bred for. Older cultures used to train dogs to fight in battle and they would be sent to war with armour and spiked collars.
In more recent times dogs have been used as messengers in war zones and some really big dogs were used to pull heavy machine guns.
In the first World War about a million dogs died in action.
There was even a dog awarded the rank of sergeant for alerting his pack to the presence of a spy. He was an American Pit Bull called Sgt Stubby. We dogs have our heroes too.
So today as we paused and remembered all the men who died, I thought about the tracker dogs and messenger dogs and even Murphy the donkey who carried wounded men which was a very serious job.
And as I learnt all the things these animals and men suffered I felt ashamed that I had made such a fuss about going out in a little bit of rain and getting wet and muddy and I acknowledge that I am a very soft Tibetan who likes his warm beds and dry walks and I understand too how lucky I am that for most of the time that is what I get.
Lest We Forget.
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Simple Pleasures
I am not a simple Tibbie but I am a Tibbie who enjoys simple things. I am not hard to please. A pleasant walk, a nap in the sun, a cuddle on Beloved’s lap and my favourite meal (any meal) all of these are simple things that give me great pleasure.
I have simple needs and I appreciate life. I enjoy watching people and other dogs. Sometimes I will sit at the window watching the children walk to school or the neighbours take their dogs out for a walk and I will allow myself to wonder if they too enjoy the things that I enjoy.
Not for me the rushing around and stressing about stuff, what is the point? I am a laid back Tibbie, an Aussie Tibbie. Comfortable with myself and my place in the pack (just under Beloved but above The Princess) and happy with my life.
I have mentioned Beloved’s number 2 son AJ a couple of times. I miss him. He has always travelled but he always used to return to me for a while and we’d have some good times. I believe that AJ enjoys the simple things of life too. He has that relaxed air of someone who knows what is important. Things like rolling on the floor with me, taking me to the reserve and allowing me to sneak onto his bed in the morning when Beloved isn’t watching.
Don’t get me wrong, he lives life to the full and has had his fair share of adventures. He has given Beloved enough grey hairs and maybe I am more silver because of him too. He has jumped out of planes, dived with sharks and lived in war zones so he appreciates the simple things when he has chance to.
When he came home to me he relaxed into a pattern of comfort and simplicity that I could relate to.
AJ understands me. He used to take me out to have a coffee all by myself. He is the only one who seemed to realise that sometimes it is good to have a little alone time and I loved our moments without The Princess trying to push in. It was our guys time out and I treasured them.
Since he has left to live in Indonesia there is no-one to take me out. Beloved is very fair and she never takes one of us out alone unless it is to visit the vet and that is a little different, fun, but different.
I am a Tibbie of remarkable good taste and I loved going with AJ to our local coffee shop. It made me feel very special and sophisticated. Beloved used to have a Tibetan Terrier when she lived in France and sometimes they talk about her and sometimes, very occasionally, I wonder if I measure up to this golden beauty. I would have liked to have known her. I like the French accent and when Beloved lived there dogs were allowed to go into restaurants with their family. Some people even sneaked the little ones into supermarkets so France must be a great place to live if it is still like that.
Anyway, AJ and I would walk slowly to the village and visit his favourite shop. I would smell the coffee beans, watch the people walking by and perhaps pass the time of day with another fortunate pal out with his or her walker. Halcyon days.
I could never quite understand why AJ would make the effort of walking out to the village for a drink when he could have gone and eaten sausages whenever he wanted to but perhaps he had his reasons. Sometimes people are an enigma to Tibbies.
It seems though that for AJ life goes on and he is visiting shops in Indonesia where he is now living. At first I found the thought that he would go without me hurtful but now I accept that it is understandable. I still go to the reserve without him and if Beloved would take me to the village I wouldn’t say no.
I am a fair Tibbie and I am pleased that AJ is happy, just as long as he doesn’t take any other dog with him.
The reason I have found out about this behaviour is that he has been sending pictures back to Beloved of the coffee that he has been drinking.
To be honest this is something that puzzles me. Even though I am an amazing Tibbie, I cannot quite understand the attraction of these cups.
I have included some of the pictures here so that you can judge for yourselves and perhaps help me understand why he should be taking so many photographs of them.
Me, I would like to know what kind of sausages they eat in Indonesia, that would make a far better picture.
And I rather like the idea of a guys morning out. Perhaps AJ will come and visit sometime and we can tread the paths to the village together again for old times sake.
Time for a nap now and I hope I dream not of coffee because drinks do not interest this Tibbie. No, I hope to dream of sausages.
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The Cuteness Factor
Today started normally enough. Beloved’s beloved got up, did his exercises, had his breakfast and The Princess and I went into the lounge to lie down by the glass doors where we can watch the bedroom door and see when Beloved comes out. Our every day routine.
When Beloved got up she cuddled and kissed us, I went to fetch Big Dog for a quick game and then it was breakfast time.
After breakfast we walked to the dog park and strolled around, greeted a few old friends, met a very impertinent British Bulldog who I have to say was a little over friendly with Beloved and her beloved and then we returned home.
The day then took a turn for the worse. The table came out, the clippers emerged and it was my turn for a hair cut.
It isn’t really how we Tibbies are supposed to be presented to the world. We are dogs with very long hair, shaggy in our native state and I’m sure in Tibet they wouldn’t even bother with baths and brushing.
Sometimes I do feel a little self conscious about the short hair but I also have to admit that it is more comfortable for me too. I am cleaner for a start, I don’t pick up so many leaves and insects from the garden and it is cooler. So I am in a dilemma, comfort or style?
Fortunately I have never met another Tibbie at the park so there can be no comparisons, but I have found some photos of Tibetan’s in full coat for you to see what I mean. We look very grand don’t we? I could look that good too.
It has to be said that in comparison the Princess and I fall short a little. But I also have to admit that being brushed every day and bathed regularly to keep that coat looking good is more than I could bear. In fact even today I wriggled so much that Beloved and her beloved have left doing my legs and feet until tomorrow!
Don’t get me wrong. I know I’m cute even with short hair, many people tell us so at the park. In fact I often feel sorry for those dogs who perhaps have missed out a little on the ‘cute’ factor because they don’t get the same attention as the other dogs.
People often stop Beloved and her beloved and ask what type of dogs we are. They think we are some kind of an ‘oodle’. You know; Cavoodle, Spoodle or some other poodle mix. Those poodles really get around.
Most people have never heard of a Tibetan Terrier and I quite like being unusual and I have to admit, I like being cute.
Cute dogs get most of the attention and treats and as you know for this Tibbie treats and cuddles are important.
Cute dogs seem to be able to get away with being a little naughty now and again. I’m not talking about anything too serious, but just little things like not coming as soon as we’re called and rolling in the lovely smelly bits at the reserve.
Cute dogs get noticed more and people are interested in them. We dogs don’t really go by looks. We have other ways of finding out whether we like each other or not. But people seem to be very influenced by the cuteness factor.
I am not as into my looks as The Princess, but nevertheless I have to be honest and say that I would not like to be one of those unfortunates with little legs and funny shaped bodies who seem to have inherited the worst from both sides of the family. No-one ever stops their owners to say how lovely they look and pet them or give them treats. I think that is very sad. I have heard that many end up in shelters and need to be re-homed, that is sad.
Why are looks so important? We dogs are often chosen for the way we look and I have heard some at the park tell me that their owners didn’t even know that they needed lots of exercise before they brought them home, or they didn’t know that they would grow up to be so big. They were just picked because they looked good.
It shouldn’t matter what we look like should it? I know that it is more important what we are like on the inside. Are we friendly Tibbies? Are we faithful Tibbies? Can we be trusted? All of these things are far more important. Yet somehow being cute gets so much more attention and I find myself being influenced by all the comments and wishing I was even better looking than I am.
People comment on the colour of our coat, well, more The Princess because she is so black. And when there is a little length to it it curls a little and they say how lovely it looks. When she hears this she becomes so vain and begins to show off and can be sillier than usual. There is no living with her until something diverts her attention, fortunately that doesn’t usually take too long.
As you know, I am a Tibbie who appreciates comfort. I don’t like water and I don’t like bathes. I don’t like my tail being brushed and I am sure I wouldn’t enjoy having to be fussed about to have long hair de-tangled and combed. Yet, there is still a little part of me that craves to be stylish, that feels that I have somehow given in or given up. That I am wrong not to make the most of myself.
When people stop Beloved and say how good we look I find myself wishing they could see me in my full coat, groomed and handsome. And then I am ashamed and think that I am becoming as shallow as The Princess.
I know that I am a very special Tibbie and that what is inside me wouldn’t change with my outward appearance and yet I know I would enjoy the attention that I would get if I was as smart as some of these Tibbies I have shown you today.
Do I need to look my best (and I look pretty good anyway) to be the best Tibbie I can be?
Why am I so susceptible to pressure from those outside my pack? My Beloved loves me just as I am so I should be satisfied with that shouldn’t I?
It is all too much for me to sort out so I shall have a nap in the sun and hope that Beloved forgets about bathing me tomorrow. And that’s me below just to prove that I can look cute even with a short coat!
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The Princess Tails
This post is for M.
M is part of number one son’s pack. She is seven years old and she and The Princess love each other very much. I love her too and I think she loves me, but she and Zena have a lot of things in common:
They both like cuddles.
They like running around and playing.
They like to make a lot of noise.
They like to be surrounded with people.
They like pink things, soft things and glittery things.
They can both be a little picky with their food
And one thing they hate is to be alone.
M didn’t know Princess Prissy Paws when she was a pup which is a shame because even I have to admit she was very cute. So I thought I’d let her know a few things about her.
When she first arrived she had a soft, curly jet black coat with a little patch of white on her chest. Her coat was so silky I used to like to rest my head on her but she used to wriggle a lot.
From the very beginning she went from her pack to ours and so she never had to be alone like I did. I was always there for her when she felt strange or lonely. She was very lucky.
The first time I saw her was in the garden. Beloved and her beloved had been out and left me alone. Little did I know that it was going to be the last time ever that I was alone. What I wouldn’t give for a little alone time now!
When they returned Beloved’s beloved picked me up and sat with me on the garden swing chair which I have always enjoyed. But I was not to be fooled, he had a strange smell on him and I knew there was something going on. Excitement was in the air.
The next thing I knew there was this little black puppy sniffing with amazement at the grass. I don’t think she had ever seen grass before. She was marveling at the smells and how soft it was. I was allowed to go and say hello to her and I don’t know if Beloved thought I would hurt her but I am not that sort of a Tibbie. I love puppies and babies. I am a very gentle Tibbie though I like to think I can sound fierce if I need to.
She smelt very familiar and when I sniffed her I was reminded of my first pack and somehow I knew that she belonged. To be honest I didn’t realise she had come to stay, not forever. I thought it was like Mo, a friend of mine who would come for a week and then leave, but no. She stayed.
Bringing up a puppy is hard work. She wanted to play all the time and it was exhausting. Before she came on the scene I was the puppy of the house without a care in the world, now all of a sudden I was responsible for this little bundle who seemed to flit from one activity to another without pausing for breath and keeping up with her wore me out.
Then there was the lack of privacy. Everywhere I went she followed, everything I sniffed, she sniffed. If I decided to walk to the top garden she would run there and get there first and pretend it was her idea. If I wanted to lie in the sun she would lie next to me and then begin tempting me to play with little woofs and thrusting toys at me. There was very little peace. Even now at night when I am trying to sleep she will wake me up and that means I am tired in the morning when I have to go for my walk. I have to admit she is a little selfish that way and maybe in a few other ways too, like the way she always wants to sit on Beloved and tries to push me off and the way she will bark at something in the garden knowing that I will have to go and investigate only to find there is nothing there and she only did it so that she could jump on Beloved. The annoying thing is that I fall for it everytime!
One thing I was never able to teach her was a good deep bark. She has a bark which is definitely not fierce. I can’t say she doesn’t try. She barks so hard she goes onto her back legs and she propels herself backwards with the force of it. Then I laugh and she gets offended but it is funny to see. She gets top marks for effort but zero for fear factor.
When she is barking at the rude possums in our garden she ends up dancing backwards on her hind legs over the grass and looks ridiculous. The possums think so too which does not help our garden credibility.
She was always falling off things when she was little. I think it had something to do with knowing our ancestors lived in a country with lots of mountains somehow she thought she should be like them and she was forever clambering over high garden rocks and getting stuck so that Beloved had to rescue her.
To begin with when we played it was great. We would run around the house playing chase or Bolt and when I got tired I would jump on the sofa out of her reach for a nap. She would spend ages jumping around trying to reach me but without luck. Then of course the inevitable happened. One day she tried to reach me and she did it! She jumped onto the sofa and my refuge was lost forever.
Being able to get onto the furniture opened up a whole new world of play for The Princess and she was forever jumping on and off, on and off. It did help tire her a little but I was in a permanent state of exhaustion trying to keep her amused.
She wouldn’t always listen to me either, wiser counsel does not always prevail with her. She has to do it for herself and I wouldn’t mind if she learnt from her mistakes but she seems to forget them as soon as she’s made them.
Actually, one mistake she made which she hasn’t forgotten happened when she was about 6 months old. Beloved was sat on the sofa with Zena and myself. On the shiny coffee table in front of us Beloved had a cup of hot chocolate. The Princess decided this table looked rather fun and before I could stop her she jumped from the sofa onto the table.
Because it was so slippery she couldn’t stand, her feet gave way and she plonked on her bottom sliding from one end to the other carrying Beloved’s cup of chocolate between her front legs. She ended up in a heap on the cream carpet and Beloved spent ages cleaning off the stains. I helped clean The Princess, she tasted good and I have to say on that occasion she was a little shaken and has never jumped on a table again, although perhaps that is because we moved house and don’t own that shiny table any more. It is hard to know with The Princess.
As you can see she caused all sorts of trouble. One day she pushed me into the pool – really.
This is what happened. Beloved called us in for a meal. I never miss the dinner call and was listening out for it. The Princess didn’t even hear her, but when I began running into the house she began running too and had to rush in front to arrive first. Of course I should have seen it coming, and I know it wasn’t deliberate but as we turned a corner she cut me off and I lost my footing. Beloved laughed which I felt was a little insensitive. I hate water and I hated the pool and I’m glad our new house doesn’t have one.
Then there was the time I have mentioned before when she got at the sleeping pills. I couldn’t let Beloved know but I have to admit I was a little interested to see what would happen. I just thought she’d go to sleep and I’d have a peaceful afternoon. I had no idea that she would reel around the place, crossing her legs when she was walking and staggering in circles. The things she was saying and seeing, it was hilarious. I didn’t know either that it could have been dangerous or I wouldn’t have laughed quite so much.
I did get a little peace when they took her to the vet, but I paid for it later because she was up all night moaning about how her head hurt and how she felt ill and jittery. Beloved’s beloved held her most of the next day so I had a rest. She is not a good patient.
She also has a habit of putting all sorts of things she finds in the garden in her mouth. She always wants to eat things which I don’t understand because she will often turn her nose up at the food in her bowl but eat disgusting things she finds in the garden.
One day she became very sick because she ate something out there. All she could tell me was that is was a pretty colour! That’s what she is like.
She went away to the vet for a while then and I really got a lot of sleep in and when she came back she looked very odd with yellow eyes and belly where they had shaved her. She was embarrassed about her bare tummy. She’s all better now though and her hair has grown back.
She gets upset when she has her hair cut as well because Beloved takes her collar off. She’s not happy until it’s back on again and she still bemoans the loss of her glitter collar. How she looks is important to her. I tell her that it is shallow behaviour but she just tells me I am a slob. I am not a slob. I am a very handsome fellow and I don’t need a glittery collar to prove it!
One thing we both hate is being brushed, particularly our tails. The Princess and I agree that tangled tails are the new fashion and we think Beloved is mistaken in thinking we need to have all the knots taken out. I am not concerned with fashion but with function. We can wag our tails, our tails curl up over our back. They work perfectly well with or without knots so I am all for the not combing. Cut my coat if you must but we both draw the line at our tails. There are not many things we agree on but this is one. I like the tail au naturel thank you.
I thought that last time at the vet would have taught her a lesson but just last week I caught her chewing on a blue berry she had found. Sometimes I just give up. I can teach her nothing. I try to look after her as best I can but I am just one Tibbie, a remarkable Tibbie I know, but alone I can only do so much.
I have told her I have posted something about her and she is jumping up and down wanting to know what I’ve said and threatening to guest post one day. She has a habit of pestering me until she gets her way, she does the same to Beloved. I shall endeavour to remain firm but I am concerned Beloved might give in. However, I won’t worry about that today.
Instead having introduced you to a few Princess Tails I shall compose myself for a nap in the sunshine and hope she doesn’t get to post anything soon. I might taunt her with the fact that it is her birthday in a couple of months that will divert her, she is easily diverted.
She will be six though you’d never know it from the way she behaves. You would still think she was that little puppy that Beloved dumped on me all those years ago.
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Tibbies & Technology
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Old Before My Time
Old Before My Time
When I was a puppy I used to enjoy running and playing and being like the other pups around puppy school. Sure I had my problems when my knee joint slipped and my shoulders were sometimes a little sore, but it didn’t stop me doing anything. I felt normal, just like all the other pups.
I would sit waiting for the front door to open and if I had a chance I would be out and off running down the drive and into the big open field next door. Beloved and her beloved would be chasing after me trying to get me back! I could be a very naughty Tibbie in those days. But as I have said before, I do not like closed doors and I am a dog who enjoys freedom.
I am very proud of the fact that it is written in some books about us Tibetans that we do not respond to commands unless we think they will benefit us, we will not mindlessly obey. I like that about our breed. Beloved calls me stubborn but I believe it is more that I am a free thinker. Unfortunately because as well as being a Tibbie who likes his freedom I am also a Tibbie who likes his food I can always be bribed with food. This is a weakness and always curtailed my adventure. But I have heard that everyone has a price, sausages are mine.
In the last few years however I have noticed myself slowing down. The problems with my body have become worse and though I don’t complain, because I am a very stoic little chap, I do feel it in lots of ways.
Of course I feel pain and that in itself is not pleasant. Waking up stiff and sore everyday is uncomfortable, but more than that is watching all the other dogs, many of them older, being able to run around and play. They can join in with the rough and tumble of life in the dog park in a way that I can’t. It causes me to wonder what it is that has caused me to be different. Why can’t I be like them? Why can I not be normal and healthy?
Beloved’s number two son used to take me (just me) to the coffee shop sometimes. I loved that. It was special. We would walk slowly to the village which is close by and go to his favourite coffee shop and I would sit and watch the world go by. He is living overseas at the moment and we miss him, but I would struggle to walk that distance now and that makes me sad. It seems such a little thing to want to do and I can’t.
I am old before my time and sometimes that seems unfair. I sit on the sidelines in the reserve. When Beloved stops to chat to anyone I lie down to take the weight off my shoulders and hips. Sometimes it is too much of an effort to even go and meet the other dogs and I am a very sociable Tibbie so I miss this.
It seems like I am sitting on the sidelines of life and you only get one chance to live it. I have to confess to moments of feeling it is not fair.
I have always been drawn to greyhounds. I love their sleek bodies, long legs and the graceful way that they run. I tried to keep up with one once, many years ago. I gave up quickly and now I just envy them from afar. How I would love to be able to run like they can and feel some of the exuberance for life that they must have bottled up inside. I do realise though that I am a sturdy Tibbie and even with full health I would never be able to keep up with a greyhound, but The Princess can run and play with some of the other dogs and I would be happy to be able to do that.
I am only eight but I am less active than some of the dogs who are twelve and fourteen. I feel like I am already old and I shouldn’t be. The other dogs who are fit and healthy show a passing interest and sometimes express sympathy but they don’t really understand, how could they? I am left to sit with the old timers, feeling like one of them rather than the middle aged Tibbie that I am.
Occasionally dogs will come and tell me I should just run and loosen up those stiff joints. This makes me grumpy because it makes it sound like I am lazy and it is my fault for having these health problems.
Others share the things that their pack leaders give them and I listen and I’m polite because I am a well brought up Tibbie but I know that Beloved has tried almost everything she can to make me feel better and I trust her to do her best. There are just some things that you cannot change.
I have had some who have told me that I am being a puppy and that if I just got a grip of myself, stopped eating all the rubbish medicines, special foods and vitamins Beloved gives me and behave like a proper dog I would be fine. I just give those dogs a Tibbie look, they are ignorant and uncaring. Fortunately there are not too many like that at our dog park.
I have moments when I feel a little better and then The Princess and I have a romp and a bit of a play, she always loves that and I wish it could be like that all the time. Sometimes I feel bad that I am not the companion to her that I could be if I were well.
Today is a day when I woke up a little sore and stiffer than usual. Our walk was a little harder for me than yesterday and I feel a little frustrated.
But now I am home with my soft beds and the sofa I lie on at night. I think of the treats that Beloved bakes us. The things I love like Beloved, television and cuddles and realise that despite it all I am quite a lucky Tibbie.
If I had to have these health problems at least I have them in a comfortable, warm home where I am loved. That has to count for something. And of course, there is also Big Dog to comfort me.
The Princess is on about making a guest post, but I’m not going to let her yet. Instead I might tell you some stories about her growing up. But for now it is nap time, a time to stretch out these aching muscles and rest and when I wake up it will be lunch and cuddles on Beloved’s nap. Not a bad plan.
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The Importance of Big Dog
I thought today I would talk about something that is very important to me. Not perhaps as important as my family, but still special to me. My food is important. My freedom is important (within the safety of my garden fence of course). But Big Dog is precious to me.
The Princess does not understand Big Dog. She thinks it is just a toy like her baby. Whenever I greet Beloved I run up to her and wag my tail and show her in the usual ways that I am pleased to see her (I find that people need a lot of reassurance from us dogs that we love them). After this I will go and find Big Dog and bring it to Beloved as a sign of my devotion.
Sometimes Beloved will play tug-o-war, sometimes she’ll throw it, sometimes she’ll just drag me along the floor which sounds harsh but it’s actually fun. I like it best when I’m on my back being dragged. The Princess actually did that once to me and it was one of the best games we’ve ever had. I quite like looking at the world upside down. I often watch television upside down. But this is not about television (which is also quite important to me as I think about it), It is about Big Dog.
Beloved understands what Big Dog means to me but most people think it is a toy. Usually the fun ends for me when The Princess tries to get in on the act because she just ruins our special moment. She doesn’t treat Big Dog with respect and that offends me.
I will give you a little history. Beloved bought Big Dog for me when I was just a pup. At the time Big Dog was bigger than I was. It was a long time before The Princess was even a twinkle in my brother’s eye. It was when life was peaceful, just me, Beloved and her beloved.
I adored Big Dog from the start. I loved the feel of it’s fur when I held it. I loved the way it was bigger than I was but I could still shake it about and I loved going to sleep on it’s soft bounciness. I always slept with Big Dog close to me, usually underneath me.
I confess that over the years Big Dog has got a little smaller. This is in part because I have got bigger but also because of the irresistible urge I had to chew and chew and I’m afraid a lot of the soft white bounciness came out! However, this has never altered the way I feel about it. Big Dog is special.
I never touch any of the toys around, those are for The Princess. I don’t chase rolled balls, I don’t play with the stuffed duck. None of those things interest me. I tell you this so that you understand that though I may be a fun Tibbie I am not frivolous. I am quite a high minded fellow.
Little did I know growing up the important part that Big Dog would play in my life. At first it was a novelty. I loved it straight away but it took time before I fully understood the significance that it was to have in my world. I needed to mature a little to really appreciate the fullness of the gift.
I have given much thought to Big Dog since The Princess arrived and I saw that she viewed it as just another toy. I wondered why she could not understand the hidden depths of meaning. I think she is just superficial, but that’s okay. She’s happy.
For me Big Dog is
my comfort. When there are scary voices on the television, big animals or gunshots and Beloved won’t allow me to protect her and stop them entering the house I reach for Big Dog and as I shake it I am comforted.
Sometimes I do admit I am a little afraid. If Beloved has been out a long time or if there are puzzling things going on in the house, (something to do with renovations Beloved calls them) then again I will go and search for the comfort of Big Dog.
Sometimes when I’m very happy, like when Beloved returns home or one of the extended family come to visit, I reach for Big Dog in my joy and like to share that joy with others.
And when we went through that very confusing time of moving house, Big Dog (and Beloved of course) were my constants in that time of change. Big Dog doesn’t change, it is always there, always available to be shaken, pulled about, sat on or whatever it is that I need. Occasionally I need Big Dog and I am not ashamed to admit it. It is a wise dog who knows these things.
Life for a furkid can be bewildering and even a wise and simple Tibbie like me needs the help of something beyond himself. I wish everyone had a Big Dog to hold on to. When I am scared or a little lost, when everything is changing around me and I feel it is all spiralling out of my control, that is when I need Big Dog.
As you will see from the pictures, Big Dog is in some ways a shadow of it’s former self but it will always be Big Dog to me.
Now I think about it it is not surprising that The Princess doesn’t understand the importance of Big Dog. For her, I am her Big Dog – except she doesn’t get to shake me!
That is quite an awesome responsibility and I think I had better have a nap and work it out. Now where’s Big Dog?
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My Nominations Are……..
Well, this blogging business is very new to and me but although it is only recently that I have decided to put down some of my insights for pawsterity, I have been following some blogs for quite a while. This means that the first nominations for the versatile blog awards are quite easy for me because I am a simple and faithful Tibetan who always does what he is told, unless it is something that I feel is unreasonable, boring or undignified.
So here (dog barks) are my nominations for the Versatile Blog Award
1. Ashley Jonathan Clements. I love the photographs on this site giving me, a humble Tibbie, a glimpse of other worlds and people.
2. Wanderlust. Again, I love the photographs and the travel stories. An eclectic mix of Humanitarian Aid Work debate, travel photography and life stories. It makes me feel like I’ve seen some of these places without getting my paws wet.
3. Lisa McKay Writing. A professional writer living in Laos who has a dog of her own and a baby. I wish we had a babylick in our house.
4. Living with Bob (Dysautonomia). This one is for Beloved who has been following this blog since she was diagnosed with that thing beginning with Dys…. too (if you are a little squeamish about how your body might work, or in some cases might not work close your eyes through the graphic bits).
5. This Sydney Life. This is a new blog for me, but I am enjoying it so much. It is versatile, different and I love all the pictures and art and even though I am a Tibetan who lives in Melbourne and is very faithful, I can still enjoy news of Sydney.
A couple of my other favourite blogs have already received this award and as well as being faithful I am very fair so for the moment these are my nominations.
Have fun exploring those you haven’t come across before.
It is now the end of the day, I have had my dinner and it is time for a nap and a lap cuddle.
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Versatile Blog Award
Versatile Blogger Award
Imagine my surprise this morning when I received a lovely e-mail which Beloved shared with me. A lovely lady called Anastasia nominated me for the Versatile Blog Award. I blushed with pleasure, but of course you can’t see that beneath the fur.
I have to say I’m pretty chuffed that someone would think of me and it only goes to prove what I tell The Princess all the time, I am a pretty remarkable Tibetan and although she is all fluff and flirtatiousness, I am the brains of the operation. How we came from the same kennel I do not know!
I am also a very polite and well brought up Tibbie so I want to thank Anastasia of ‘The Love of a Dog’ blog. I am not sure if I am copying the link correctly because I am new to this technology but I will do my best:
Author : The Love of a Dog
URL : http://theloveofadog.wordpress.com
Now I have to tell you seven things about myself. Only seven that will be the problem. Well you know a lot about me already so I’ll try and add seven new things.
1. I love Anastasia
2. I love head high grass
3. I hate baths
4. I do not like having my ears and tail brushed
5. I love children and babies
6. I do not like loud voices and angry people or dogs
7. I hate the rain and I have never seen snow but I’m pretty sure I’d hate that too.
There are many more things about me that I want to tell you, but I will wait for another time to talk about those things. Right now I have to go off and nominate my fifteen favourite blogs and I have to go and tell The Princess all about it. Boy, will she be mad!
This is a good day.
Zac The All Black 