On a warm summer morning, with Stanley snoozing beside me, I’m taking the time to read some of the wonderful, informative and creative blogs here on WordPress: something I’ve not had time to do of late.
On reading, I remember why I should take the time.
WordPress a positive place, full of inspiration and a place that allows connection with so many people from many different backgrounds and people who I don’t know at all. But on reading, I feel as if I do.
It’s refreshing somehow…
Mooloolaba Beach….
Reading Edith’s write up on A sense of place has me thinking about my own place and how we often don’t see what is around us on a daily basis. I know I don’t sometimes.
Maybe I simply need to open my eyes a little wider as it’s become too familiar. Something it never was during my flying years when I was somewhat of a transient resident, filtering in and out, without seeing.
I’m heading to Malaysia next week to backpack through the highlands with a dear friend.
Maybe on my return my eyes will be wider and I will take the time to see…
Posts that highlight my loveable friend Stanley have frequented my blog and when Ailsa posted this weeks theme of animals, well I felt Stanley needed to star once again. Stanley’s typical day includes a fair amount of ‘travelling’ i.e from the couch to the bed, to the car, to the pool, to the table, to the beanbag, watching our resident kangaroos… ah yes, Stanley’s daily travels.
I’m starting to get a little worried. Do I have a penchant for collecting strange dogs?
I wonder.
For those of you who follow my blog you may recall my story of my beloved Sausage who disliked walks immensely and you may also know that after her sad passing I adopted another wire-haired dachshound of whom we named Stanley. Sausage always amused us with her absolute refusal to walk and her many other strange behaviours, now it is Stanley who has us wondering if we have a strange effect on our 4-legged friends.
The other night my son and I were happily gnawing on freshly cut watermelon when his Dogship, who not wanting to miss out on any human activity, jumped on the couched and sniffed excitedly in the direction of the watermelon. ‘Stanley, it’s watermelon,’ I said. ‘You won’t like it’. At those spoken words he inched his way closer and having nearly finished my piece, I offered him some.
To my surprise, he ate it. No sniff, no slurp, just one big grab and swallow. And there he stayed, hovering and salivating until he was offered and subsequently devoured more watermelon.
Watching for the boys to come out of school…
It gets better, or should I say gets stranger. As a vegetarian I eat a lot of vegetables (funny that). So the night following the watermelon night, I had made a delicious stir fry of chinese cabbage, carrot, potato and leek sautéed in a thai flavoured spicy sauce. Accompanied by a glass of Pinot and a good movie, I curled up the couch to enjoy my simple meal.
Enter Stanley.
Taking a leap onto the couch and in very similar fashion to the watermelon incident, he once again sniffed excitedly. And once again I said, ‘No Stanley it’s cabbage you won’t like it’.
I really don’t need to say what happened next do I? Yep, he ate it. And the pièce de résistance? The night following the night of the cabbage, I was eating an apple. Yep, he ate that too, straight from the core.
A unique or should I say strange use of his doggy bed…
And I could continue, as there are many, many more strange incidents and events. Making love to the broom, sleeping in, not on his doggy bed, playing with unwilling cockroaches and mistaking a dropped piece of rocket lettuce for a strange yet unique looking bug.
‘Mum, why won’t this strange looking bug play like the cockroaches do…?
So the question remains: Strange dogs or just a strange owner?
A unique or should I say strange use of his doggy bed…
It’s been said that one should never work with children or animals and from my experience, I tend to agree. When editing my last post Travel themes; Red, I had a giggle to myself thinking about how difficult that shot was to take. Now obviously there were no animals or children in the shot, but what went on behind the scene was a very different story.
I set up the shot for a proportion assignment I was doing in my Dip Photoimaging course. I figured the capsicum and or fruit would look kind of cool in the miniature trolley and would demonstrate the photographic element of proportion. So with different coloured cardboard on hand to create a cyclorama, I placed the props where I wanted and proceeded to take some test shots.
Enter Stanley.Checking my props are in the correct place perhaps?
Yep, you guessed it, just as I thought I had the perfect shot his lordship saunters onto the ‘set’. And as he’s not one to want to miss out and more particularly having the need to be in my presence 24/7, he felt it his job to make sure I had set up correctly. So he sniffed and licked, sniffed again then proceeded to plonk himself down next to the trolley and in doing so, knocked it over and sent the apple rolling away and in a flash was off in hot pursuit. Now I’m quite sure there are many dog lovers among us who probably feel as I do that our 4-legged friends would speak if they could and in the moment I just described had Stanley been able to voice his thoughts, it may have gone a little like this.
‘Oops, sorry mum, it’s all good, I’ll get it’, and off he bounced and on his return deposited the now mildly mangled apple complete with slobber and dribble back onto the cardboard, thus creating a very different effect. Feeling very pleased with himself and the fact he was obviously a great help he began wagging his tail frantically, which connected with the apple, which in turn sent it rolling all over the cardboard leaving mangled apple goo in its wake. Some may have become angry, but not me as I was too busy laughing at my loveable fuzzy faced friend whose only crime, so to speak, was to help. So I simply exchanged the soiled yellow cardboard for a crisp, clean white one and shot off more images whilst Stanley watched from a more prop friendly vantage point; the couch.
Ah animals, you gotta love ’em.
‘So mum, I’ll just watch from here making sure you get the right shot’?
A few posts ago I wrote of having to say goodbye to a dear friend. But I was wrong in thinking that, it wasn’t goodbye, just a momentary lapse in our ability to share time in the same place.
Stanley & Lola …
For although she is in another part of the world right now, through her words, her being and her love of exploring life we are still sharing, irrespective of distance.
It’s quite simple really, friendship has no borders. We can still bathe in a friends light and share thoughts, moments, fears and foes from afar. Distance is of no consequence.
Right now she is bathing in the calm seas of Koh Tao, Thailand.
Thailand 2010
Her blog is aptly titled A lifetime of lessons, Take a look at her journey, you may enjoy sharing her time too.
I thought I’d dedicate today’s post, which I wrote last year to my beloved Kiri aka Sausage, who passed away last December. She is missed but when thought of, brings smiles to the faces of those who loved her.
Sausage, enjoying some a little time by the pool..
For those of you who love your four-legged friends, I hope you get a giggle from this little ditty.
For most dogs the rattling of a lead, or the mention of the word walk, sends them into a wild frenzy. Some do circles, some bark excitedly, while others run for the front door before you get a chance to change your mind.
Not Sausage. The mere mention of that filthy word was enough to send her high tailing it back to her sleeping bag, slip through the opening, bury herself at the end and not be seen. After all she believed that if she couldn’t see you, then it was very obvious you couldn’t see her.
I tried to get her excited about a walk, to no avail. I once tempted her with a piece of cheese, one of her great loves, which got the lead on and us both out the door, but a few hundred metres down the road she stopped and no amount of pulling, dragging and kind loving words would budge her. Nope, and living in fear of the neighbours reporting me to the RSPCA for cruelty at seeing me pull a small, grey fuzzy and extremely stubborn little dog down the road, I resorted to carrying her. Once in my arms, I was showered with slurps, not a particularly pleasant experience as Saus’s breath was questionable to say the least.
Watching the boys’ surf
She may not have liked walks, but she still loved to get out of the house. Remember I mentioned about dogs’ who go into a frenzy at a mere rattle of the lead? Apart from cheese, a mere rattle of the car keys saw Sausage in a frenzy and for one with little short legs, she could cover some serious ground with lightening speed when the mood suited. Once at the car, there was then the ritual of getting in. For some reason unbeknown to us humans she’d only get in from the driver’s side and as she was short, getting in was a two step process. Firstly, a few moments of rocking back and forth on her haunches, similar to a high jumper working up to the big jump was performed, followed by swift forward leap onto the floor and as she’d become quite good at this manoeuvre, she always avoided injury on the pedals by ensuring her landing was precise.
Once there, another few moments of rocking preceded a deft leap onto my seat then one final leap over the centre console saw her finally sitting proudly on the left hand passenger seat, a place I’m sure she felt was hers and hers alone.
If the boys had friends in the car and in her seat, she’d throw herself on the floor and as a mark of disgust, pant her fish-infused breath in their direction. But the madness in all of this was that once we reached our destination, she’d run for cover under the seat, as no way would she get out and walk anywhere. Following was a perfect example. Living on the Sunshine Coast, home to some of Australia’s most beautiful beaches, the boys decided a late afternoon bodyboard was in order. Of course the moment the keys were rattled, Sausage was at the back door before the rest of us had even made it down the stairs. And on that afternoon she did just that and looked very pleased and contented as we drove to the beach.
On arrival, I smiled at her sweetly as she eyed me suspiciously from her special spot (there were no friends in residence). I held up the lead and with that she launched a perfect dive bomb under the seat, which in turn lead to me having to find the best grip in order to manipulate her firmly wedged little body out from under the seat.
Of course amid this madness, the boys’ were egging me on with shouts of, ‘come on mum,, you can do it’!
I finally won the battle, placed the lead around her neck and set off to the beach, although not accompanied by the sound of little paws walking alongside. Nope, she was in my arms, and if dogs could actually smile, I believe hers would have been wider than the Grand Canyon. And as we sat watching the boys surf, and although she would never have admitted it, secretly I think she quite enjoyed lazing on the boys’ towels, watching other dogs walk along the beach.
Stanley doing a spot of navigating… The ode to this story is I now have Stanley, another wire-haired dachshund and he too runs like there’s no tomorrow at the rattle of the keys.
In contrast though, he says, a walk? Yes please, but I’ll also take the car! 🙂
stanley & bear 