December Meme: Dogs
Dec. 2nd, 2014 01:29 amMy first post for the December meme comes from ![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
escritoireazul, favourite things about dogs and why you love them.
Let me begin my answer with a picture of my puppy.
Look at her little face! Although, it is important to remember that behind that innocent expression is a mind that's going: MISCHIEF MANAGED!
No, we've always had dogs in my family. My parents thought that it was a good way for kids to learn responsibility. This had the effect of making me a very responsible dog owner (all my dogs are trained, and neutered, and vaccinated, etc.) but otherwise had little to no measurable impact on the rest of my life. I take the well, nobody's yelling... approach to adulthood.
For example, earlier this week I succeeded in accidentally de-worming myself. It was time for the puppy's worming medication, which is a sort of spot-on that you put on the back of her neck, so I did that, went to do something else and forgot all about it; half an hour later I came back and picked the puppy up for a wee bit of a cuddle. Now the first thing Freya does when you interact with her is to launch herself full force at your face like the face huggers from the Alien films - I am, to her mind, a giant chew toy - and she managed to smear her spot-on stuff all over my face. So I'm sitting there going: my lips and tongue are tingling and going numb, that's weird... which is when I remember about the puppy worming stuff; now this is stuff that even the dog isn't meant to take internally. Anyway, long story short, I am not dead and probably free of parasites.
I love the ridiculous things that we do for our dogs. Like, my old dog Cooper was very fond of rolling in fox shit, which has a repugnant smell, and the only thing, the only thing which gets it out is tomato ketchup. So you find yourself standing on your back steps in the rain applying condiments to a medium sized omnivore and being annoyed that no-one is around to hear your frankly brilliant hot dog joke.
My last dog Eustace-- you know how if you have dogs all your life there's one that will always hold a special place in your heart? Well, mine was Eustace. He was the dog against which all future dogs will be measured. He also once ate a bar of soap and puked bubbles for three days.
I temped for a while, then I gave up work for a few years to be a full time carer, after that I was a nervous wreck for a while, and even now I work strange and irregular shifts. I also have a terrible tendency to hermit. On the days that I'm not working I can quite easily not leave my house or speak to a single non-internet person, and worse I don't even notice that I'm doing it. Dogs enforce routine, is what I'm getting it. Much as I might like to not get out of bed one morning, I can't because the dog needs to be walked. My sleep cycle, which is otherwise wracked by insomnia and panic attacks, is kept semi-regular by the first and last times the dog needs out. They get me out every day - rain, wind, or brain weasels be damned. I've always been a person of a nervous disposition, as they say in the films, but earlier in the year it got a bit out of hand and I was referred for some counselling. Had I ever thought about harming myself? they asked. No, I replied, I wouldn't. What makes you so sure? they asked - I'm assuming that was a compulsory question. Now of course there's family and friends and work, but when put on the spot, the two reasons on the tip of my tongue for why life was worth living were 1) there's a new Doctor Who in the autumn, and 2) but who'd look after the dog? I like to think of this as my taking joy in the small things and not just being really sad.
Some people get an endorphin rush from exercise, I just get sweaty and cross. My point is that you think without a dog I'm going to spent my Sundays traipsing up and down the East Ayrshire coast for four hours? No, I'm going to spend it sitting still eating and drinking things, probably in a pub.
I love dog people. Dog people are a bit mad anyway. These are people who when offered the opportunity to own a creature who will destroy your possessions, cost you a small fortune, at times massively inconvenience you, whose crap you will have to pick up for ten years, after which it will die and break your heart - these are people who go: where do I sign up?
I have always thought that dog-walkers and fandom are very similar little subcultures. Just as you wouldn't dream of discussing fanfiction or shipping with your non-fandom friends, dog walkers can have a cheerful and lengthy discussion about all the weird things that their dogs have eaten which later had to pulled out of the other end of them, as though this is a perfectly normal thing to be discussing. There's also the thing where we don't always know each other's real names; there are people I've known for years, who I see virtually every day, who I have spent many an hour chatting with, and who I know only as, like, Bailey's owner.
My mum likes it when I have a dog. She feels like I'm safer. Yeah, me and my vicious attack puppy. Mothers, eh?
Dogs are always pleased to see you. Whatever is happening in your life, however bad your day has been, there is one creature in all the world who is simply happy you've come home.
I love how many different types of dog there are, and how it's sometimes hard to believe that they're members of the same species. Like, the people next door have a teacup Yorkie who is already dwarved by my three month old Lab puppy. The people across the street have a Staffie who before they rescued her had been used as a bait dog for dog fighting, and she's the nicest dog in the world and what was done to her could make you weep. Border Collies are ubiquitous around here; brilliant dogs, but I've never met one who wasn't as mad as an eel. My mum has a Spaniel who's a failed sniffer dog, and boy am I glad that she didn't have him when I was a teenager, failed or not.
Me, I've always favoured Labs, Retrievers, Setters - big, good-natured, stupid dogs. You know that scene in 101 Dalmations where Pongo is trying to find a girlfriend for Roger and all the women are exactly like their dogs? It's like that.
escritoireazul, favourite things about dogs and why you love them.Let me begin my answer with a picture of my puppy.
Look at her little face! Although, it is important to remember that behind that innocent expression is a mind that's going: MISCHIEF MANAGED!
No, we've always had dogs in my family. My parents thought that it was a good way for kids to learn responsibility. This had the effect of making me a very responsible dog owner (all my dogs are trained, and neutered, and vaccinated, etc.) but otherwise had little to no measurable impact on the rest of my life. I take the well, nobody's yelling... approach to adulthood.
For example, earlier this week I succeeded in accidentally de-worming myself. It was time for the puppy's worming medication, which is a sort of spot-on that you put on the back of her neck, so I did that, went to do something else and forgot all about it; half an hour later I came back and picked the puppy up for a wee bit of a cuddle. Now the first thing Freya does when you interact with her is to launch herself full force at your face like the face huggers from the Alien films - I am, to her mind, a giant chew toy - and she managed to smear her spot-on stuff all over my face. So I'm sitting there going: my lips and tongue are tingling and going numb, that's weird... which is when I remember about the puppy worming stuff; now this is stuff that even the dog isn't meant to take internally. Anyway, long story short, I am not dead and probably free of parasites.
I love the ridiculous things that we do for our dogs. Like, my old dog Cooper was very fond of rolling in fox shit, which has a repugnant smell, and the only thing, the only thing which gets it out is tomato ketchup. So you find yourself standing on your back steps in the rain applying condiments to a medium sized omnivore and being annoyed that no-one is around to hear your frankly brilliant hot dog joke.
My last dog Eustace-- you know how if you have dogs all your life there's one that will always hold a special place in your heart? Well, mine was Eustace. He was the dog against which all future dogs will be measured. He also once ate a bar of soap and puked bubbles for three days.
I temped for a while, then I gave up work for a few years to be a full time carer, after that I was a nervous wreck for a while, and even now I work strange and irregular shifts. I also have a terrible tendency to hermit. On the days that I'm not working I can quite easily not leave my house or speak to a single non-internet person, and worse I don't even notice that I'm doing it. Dogs enforce routine, is what I'm getting it. Much as I might like to not get out of bed one morning, I can't because the dog needs to be walked. My sleep cycle, which is otherwise wracked by insomnia and panic attacks, is kept semi-regular by the first and last times the dog needs out. They get me out every day - rain, wind, or brain weasels be damned. I've always been a person of a nervous disposition, as they say in the films, but earlier in the year it got a bit out of hand and I was referred for some counselling. Had I ever thought about harming myself? they asked. No, I replied, I wouldn't. What makes you so sure? they asked - I'm assuming that was a compulsory question. Now of course there's family and friends and work, but when put on the spot, the two reasons on the tip of my tongue for why life was worth living were 1) there's a new Doctor Who in the autumn, and 2) but who'd look after the dog? I like to think of this as my taking joy in the small things and not just being really sad.
Some people get an endorphin rush from exercise, I just get sweaty and cross. My point is that you think without a dog I'm going to spent my Sundays traipsing up and down the East Ayrshire coast for four hours? No, I'm going to spend it sitting still eating and drinking things, probably in a pub.
I love dog people. Dog people are a bit mad anyway. These are people who when offered the opportunity to own a creature who will destroy your possessions, cost you a small fortune, at times massively inconvenience you, whose crap you will have to pick up for ten years, after which it will die and break your heart - these are people who go: where do I sign up?
I have always thought that dog-walkers and fandom are very similar little subcultures. Just as you wouldn't dream of discussing fanfiction or shipping with your non-fandom friends, dog walkers can have a cheerful and lengthy discussion about all the weird things that their dogs have eaten which later had to pulled out of the other end of them, as though this is a perfectly normal thing to be discussing. There's also the thing where we don't always know each other's real names; there are people I've known for years, who I see virtually every day, who I have spent many an hour chatting with, and who I know only as, like, Bailey's owner.
My mum likes it when I have a dog. She feels like I'm safer. Yeah, me and my vicious attack puppy. Mothers, eh?
Dogs are always pleased to see you. Whatever is happening in your life, however bad your day has been, there is one creature in all the world who is simply happy you've come home.
I love how many different types of dog there are, and how it's sometimes hard to believe that they're members of the same species. Like, the people next door have a teacup Yorkie who is already dwarved by my three month old Lab puppy. The people across the street have a Staffie who before they rescued her had been used as a bait dog for dog fighting, and she's the nicest dog in the world and what was done to her could make you weep. Border Collies are ubiquitous around here; brilliant dogs, but I've never met one who wasn't as mad as an eel. My mum has a Spaniel who's a failed sniffer dog, and boy am I glad that she didn't have him when I was a teenager, failed or not.
Me, I've always favoured Labs, Retrievers, Setters - big, good-natured, stupid dogs. You know that scene in 101 Dalmations where Pongo is trying to find a girlfriend for Roger and all the women are exactly like their dogs? It's like that.