Thursday 27 January 2011

The indignity of being a dog

Interesting developments here. Fired up by reading about Chaser the wonder dog (see 18 January), Beard is now embarked on an intensive dog training programme. There are two elements to this.
The first involves laying out toys on the carpet, making me sit and authoritatively saying: “Ball”, “Bone”, Piggywig”, Ted”, while I rush over and put my paw on said item. This makes him so ridiculously happy, I feel quite sorry for him.
Much worse is B and W’s sudden tendency to refer to themselves as ‘mum and dad’, which is just embarrassing. They insist on taking me up to the cow field, standing 100 yards apart and telling me “Find mum!” “Find dad!” as I shuttle at high speed between them.  As Beard is 6 foot 8 and Weird is the size of a small sofa, this is hardly the most challenging task they could have come up with.
Having said that, nothing can be as undignified as when Weird tried to make me wear a Santa suit at Christmas. It only lasted five minutes, but the shame was traumatising.
The most depressing part of today’s whole dog training thing is that it dragged me away from Woman’s Hour and Swedish Author Maria Sveland, talking about her novel ‘Bitter Bitch’.  Presumably this is about another embittered dog... but I’ll probably never find out.

Utter shame


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