Friday, March 3, 2017

A dog needs to speak up sometimes! (Sponsored by Jack Russell-speak!)

Hi----you can call me, Perdy, which is short for Perdita. I know----you are wondering why a dog would bother to write a blog. Well----you better get used to it, because after many requests to my owners,' Rio and  Neil, I have decided to step out, to put myself  'out there,' so to speak, and tell my story. OK---I have to 'piggy back' on Neil's Blog, but doggies have yet to attain full rights in New Zealand. 'They' are still working on stuff like medical cannabis, dirty rivers, and housing issues, so I guess the hairy members of the populace will just have to join the line of others wanting to push their barrows.

It's hard to know where to start because a great deal of water, clean and polluted, has gone under the bridge and I am not even halfway to the rainbow bridge yet. I vaguely remember my first few months in this crazy world. I think I was born in Meremere, a tiny little village to the south of Auckland. I DO remember being carried down a long steep driveway (well that's what it seemed like to me before I learned to escape up that same drive, months later!)
My new life began and oh what a life it's been! Not just for me, but for the two daddies in my life. Yeah, I figured that one out pretty damned quick. There was no way I could play off  'Mum and Dad!'  I know I'm using 'quite educated dogie-talk,' but one thing I have learned in my seven short years; that is not to patronize my readers, using language from the crib! Don't worry---I am more than capable of using 'barks from the gutter,' so BE PREPARED!
Those first few nights in the little flat in Mt Roskill, Auckland were really strange for me. Gone were my brothers and sisters, although, I had heard that I was the 'runt of the litter,' and that meant always being at the back of the line when it came to----everything. Yes, those big hairy siblings ignored me, unless I was in the way! You could say I had issues, right from the start, but I prefer to say, it 'prepared me for what was about to come!'
That first night in ingrained in my memory---that endless night: new smells, sounds no warm bodies to snuggle up against. Yeah, those brothers and sisters WERE good for something. I cried and even though my dads came to check o me in that little crate, I still felt deserted. I didn't understand the strange way they spoke---that was a skill. yet to be learned, but doggie oh doggie, I caught on fast!
Morning came and I had only pooped a few times in the corner of my crate. I hated that. Widdling---well I had no control of that, at that time and I didn't really care. My dads made a huge fuss of me. That was when I figured that, 'this was all up to me!'  I was the center of attention, the focus for everything in the house. There was an issue, though---I WAS NOT ALONE. There was another creature in the home---a hairy thing that did not bark. It was huge (Hey---I was only tiny at ten weeks of age!) and it kept staring at me. I stood just outside my crate and I am sure it wanted to eat me.
It had a name---CAT and a second name---Jasmine. I learned much later that Jasmine is the name of a nice smelling flower.  Yeah right! My dads did not know then, butI had a plan. If that cat didn;t stop looking at me, I was going to need to assert my position in the home. BUT---I also figured that time is like a piece of string and my story with my two dads was also an unknown quantity in those first few months.
I'm tired now and I need a rest. There will be much more to follow!