And Then A Dog Didn't Bite Me

A strange thing happened today, while I was out birdwatching by the skips: a dog came and sat next to me. Cozied right up, he did--muzzle to throat; paw to knee. Queer, that. Dogs ordinarily hate me. They go out of their way to bite me. They snarl at me whenever they see me. They draw their foreheads together in the canine equivalent of a scowl. (This, according to dog-lovers, means I'm a terrible person. Dogs' noses are attuned to the sulfur reek of sin. If dogs don't like you, God certainly doesn't. You're hellbound, for sure.)

"What's this, then?" I said, roughing up the dog's head-fur. "I torture puppies and tear the wings off birds, don't you know?"

The dog whined and dug his nose into my neck. I searched behind his ears for fleas and tics. When I didn't find any, I slung an arm around him, pulling him under my coat. "Ah. Nice and warm. Wanna come back to my flat? Bit of a nightcap, what? Oho! I'll keep you in the front closet, I think. Get you out when the mercury drops. Aren't you just the wee furnace?"

The dog squirmed contentedly. Friendly bugger. "You know," I told him, "I sometimes think about getting one of your lot. Big ol' Saint Bernard, most like. I like a dog that doubles as a footstool--ha, ha!--a big hairy ottoman. He'd get my mail in the mornings, and my dressing-gown at night. And when I wasn't doing much of anything, he'd be right there with me, snoring away on the couch. I'd have my cold, cold hands tangled up in his hair, and my head on his big flat skull. His name would be...his name would be...."

"Rouf!"

"Rouf? No, I don't think so. I hate all those doggy names, all those Fidos and Rovers and Barkies. I like something more dignified on my dog. Captain Bligh, maybe. No, Captain Ahab. Queequeg. Would you like to be called Queequeg?" I flipped up the tag on his collar so I could read it. "No, you're Nobby. Nobby? No wonder you like me. What kind of sadistic fuck calls his dog Nobby? Tell me, do the other dogs make penis jokes when you hove in sight? Do they ask about your knobby?"

The dog started grinning and nodding, reacting to the sound of his name.

"Haa, you're hopeless. You dogs are all the same. A milk-bone and a rub behind the ears, and you're ready for any indignity. Oh, yeah. I see you, you and your kind, prancing down the street in caps and waistcoats. You think I don't know about you, just 'cos I spend most of my life indoors? Us humans have windows, you know. Brilliant invention, windows. I can be inside, and still see everything you're up to. 'Sit up and beg,' what?"

The dog raised a paw, cocking his head expectantly. I groaned and slapped myself in the head. "Tell me you're joking, Nobby. Someone's got you sitting up and begging? What, I'm supposed to give you a snausage now, is that it? To tell you the truth, you are rather cute. I'd feed you if I had anything. C'mon. Put down your paw. You're making me feel guilty."

Nobby stuck his paw in my crotch. My eyebrows shot up like they'd just seen a packet of Nair. "Not quite what I had in mind, dear." I was just getting ready to tell him about those tiny dogs people carry about in bags (slightly less dignified than wearing a waistcoat; slightly more so than begging on command), when some homeless guy called him away. He bounded off, tailing me in the face by way of farewell. I watched the pair till they vanished round the corner, the tramp trudging heavily, Nobby dancing around him. How is it that some bum can afford a dog, and I cannot?

At any rate, with the dog gone from under my coat, I soon began to shiver. My arse, shielded from the elements by the flimsiest of polyester blends, had gone quite numb. There weren't any birds about, either, so I went back inside.

I spent the next few hours lying about like wet laundry. These canine adventures rather take it out of a person. I ate half a Kraft Single Slice, swiss-flavoured (faugh!), and a dog-end of rye bread (tastier than it sounds). I found a pair of tweezers stuffed between the couch cushions. It was poking me in the leg. At first, I thought it was the pencil I lost last week, but no such luck. I considered tweezing my eyebrows, in honour of my discovery, but couldn't be bothered.

All in all, it was an exciting day, by recent standards.