BarkingProse

It’s day two of the new year. We said good bye to 2011 and welcomed in 2012. Us mutts aren’t really sure why this is such a big deal to people. I mean it’s kinda goofy.

Dogs see time way different from humans. Us mutts live in the present. We don’t think about what’s gonna happen tomorrow. And we sure don’t waste time worrying about what happened yesterday.

Our sense of the present is bigger than humans. Like this morning. We got up at 5am. Nice time to start the day. We all had to do our business, so we went outside to the Poop Zone.

Soon as we finished our business we raced back to the house to wait for breakfast. A bowl of grub, another chance to do our business, then over to the studio for our morning nap.

My day is divided into sections. Morning food. Morning nap. After 8am I can run the fence line and bark at the fool neighbor dog. Then a mid morning nap relaxing after all that barking.

I let mom do some chores around the house before I start barking her up. By noon it’s time for fun. Do some training. Herd the goats. Go for a ride.

On a good day we all get a frozen turkey neck to keep out teeth clean. No running after eating that big treat or we’d toss our cookies.

Soon we’re into the afternoon. A little napping, yapping at the sky, playing ball. About 4pm we start getting agitated. I grab socks and shoes and parade back and forth. Tess leans on mom and makes a pest of herself. Jack paces and Nellie walks in circles.

You guessed it. We’re getting close to feeding time. It’s like we have a clock in our heads. We know exactly when dinner should be served and you’d better watch out if it’s late. Even people who don’t live here notice our bad behavior when our dinner is late.

After dinner we rest a little, but I like to play indoor ball. That way mom has to pay attention to me even when she’d rather read a book or watch the news.

When bedtime approaches Jack is already asleep. Me, Tess and Jack go out front in the big yard for our nightly constitutional. Nellie has to stay in the backyard where it’s lighted. She gets too confused in the dark.

Last thing before bedtime dad gives Jack his eye drops and a pain pill, Nellie gets her pain pill, and all four of us get a little treat to close out the day.

Mom leads us all to the bedroom where the fun begins. I jump in Jack’s bed just to mess with his head. Tess jumps on the human bed. Nellie wanders in circles.

Mom grabs my binky to get me off Jack’s bed. He quick dives in his bed to claim it. Tess gets mad at all the commotion and goes back to her couch in the living room.

By now Jack is snoring and I’m playing rough with my binky. Nellie is still walking in circles wondering where she is. Mom leads Nellie to her spot and helps Nell get comfortable.

I’m the last one to crawl into bed. And just when everybody is getting quiet, I like to jump up and toss my binky one last time. Finally it’s lights out and we all say good night.

Even that part is funny. “Good night, Jack.” Jack won’t answer because he’s already asleep and he’s too deaf to hear.

“Good night, Nellie.” Brother, that’s a waste of time. Nellie can’t see or hear. She’s got no clue about night or day.

Can’t say good night to Tess since she’s retreated to the living room.

Finally it’s my turn. “Good night, Ash.” mom says. “G’night, mom” I mumble.

Then I hear the words I’ve waited for all day. “I love you Ashie,” mom says. “You’re my best boy!” How neat is that!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Last night Jack’s secret admirer called. Her name is Liz and she found Jack through Old Dog Haven.

Because of Jack mom and Liz started writing to each other. They hit it off right away, like they coulda been best friends before they even talked.

It was a big deal for Jack to have a sponsor. He came to Asherpark from a house where nobody took care of him.

Then he spent a long time in the slammer because his person, who didn’t take care of him at home, never came to bail him out.

Jack didn’t do anything wrong. He wasn’t in the slammer because he bit somebody. Animal control nabbed him because his person let him get skinny and sick and full of fleas.

Jack told me he kept hoping all those long months that his person would come get him, but she never did. He figured he was old and worthless. That’s why his person wouldn’t take him home and why nobody wanted to adopt him.

After we lost Darcy mom wanted to take another mutt for Old Dog Haven. The director sent her pictures of a couple of dogs. One of them was Jack. Mom called me over and showed me Jack. It was his mug shot from the slammer. His ribs showed and his eyes were gooey with infection.

Mom said, “That’s the mutt we want, Ash.”

I looked at her like she was crazy. “He’s the ugliest mutt I’ve ever seen.” I said.

“Yup, he’s not too pretty. That’s why we want him. Who else would take him, Ash?”

Well, I had to agree with her on that. Nobody in their right mind would take him looking like he did in his mug shot.

Jack came to us right after Christmas two years ago. He had a chip on his shoulder and acted like mister tough guy. He gave me the creeps. Pissed all over the house and and growled real low at me whenever we made eye contact.

But slowly things began to change. First off we gave Jack a new name. He was called Cyrus before we met him, but mom said that had to go. Since he’s deaf, we could have called him anything, but mom likes the name Jack.

Mom told me that Jack acted tough because he was scared. He probably never had the best house manners and didn’t know how to behave. Jack gradually dropped the dominant stuff and became real withdrawn.

That’s when Jack’s guardian angel appeared. Liz saw Jack on the Old Dog Haven website. She saw something special in Jack’s eyes and decided to sponsor him. Her name appeared under Jack’s picture. She was his first sponsor and Jack was thrilled.

But imagine how important Jack felt when he started getting treats and cards from Liz. Jack got the yummiest stuff in the mail with instructions he had to share some with his pack.

Jack began to feel better about himself. He took to laughing once in a while. He even played a little bump and run with me.

Soon Jack had the confidence to go to Old Dog Haven fund raising events. He is always so calm, everybody loves him. Little kids can take his leash and lead him around. He doesn’t jump up on people or grab treats. He’s just a fine gentleman and a great ambassador for Old Dog Haven.

I know I’m going on and on about Jack. But here’s the point. Sometimes all it takes is one person to turn a mutt’s life around. Jack had a safe home at Asherpark, but Liz made him feel important. Because she believed in him, Jack began to believe in himself.

Now Jack knows he is loved. He has friends all over the country. His picture has been around the world. Jack is one lucky mutt, and he knows it.

The other day I heard Jack tell Nellie, “You gotta believe in yourself Nellie. You’re a good mutt. You deserve a good life.”

It’s all come full circle. Somebody believes in you and you start believing in yourself. Next thing you know you’re helping the new mutt. How sweet is that?

 

 

Hey, you won’t believe this. Mom just told me that British people celebrate Boxing Day right after Christmas. That sounds like my kind of holiday.

At first I thought people put on gloves and whacked each other around on Boxing Day. Then mom explained it’s not like that at all. It’s more likely about giving gifts to servants. Huh? Who has servants these days?

Me and mom are reading up on Boxing Day because our British neighbors are having a party tonight. We’ve looked at tons of stuff on the web, but it all comes out the same. Nobody knows for sure how Boxing Day originated or why it’s called Boxing Day.

Some people think you take your boxes of unwanted Christmas presents back to the store on Boxing Day. Nope. That’s not it.

Other people think it’s an old custom that goes back to the middle ages when rich people had servants. The unlucky servant had to work on Christmas but got the day after Christmas to visit family. The rich people gave the servant a box of stuff – clothes, food, presents, money – to take home with them.

But there’s this really nasty version of Boxing Day from ‘Factmonster.com.’  Here, read it for yourself.

“The Feast of St. Stephen also takes place on December 26. St. Stephen was one of the seven original deacons of the Christian Church who were ordained by the Apostles to care for widows and the poor. For the success of his preaching and his devotion to Christ, St. Stephen was stoned to death by a mob.” I don’t even want to think about that.

I told mom let’s us make up our own Boxing Day rules. So here’s what we’re gonna do. Mom will take all the leftover boxes and hide them around the house. Each box will have its own little treat. Us dogs will have a couple of minutes to find the boxes and gobble the treats.

Nellie goes first. She has a good nose but can’t see, so she gets a head start.  Jack goes next  ’cause he’s timid and won’t know he can have the treat when he finds it. Mom will have to go with him to tell him it’s okay.

I’ll let Tess go third. She’s got such a great nose it won’t take her long to grab her loot. Then mom will reload the boxes and I’ll eat my way through all the good stuff. If I miss one, Tess will be sure to cover for me.

I like this holiday stuff. You can make up your own rules so everybody has fun. You decide what you think Boxing Day means. I’m going with the boxes loaded with treats!