Jimbo's September 2015 Newsletter
It’s the season of contentment in my house at present. Deep in the dark depths of rural outer Auckland there is a warm glow that spreads itself through the lounge room and on through the rest of the house. When that warm glow starts to spread it’s like watching a new winter Olympic sport; “Synchronized Sleeping”. There is always jostling for a spot in front of the fire, bodies outstretched, and legs askew as the beasts and peoples line up for prime position.
It never ceases to amaze me how a dog will almost half-cook itself so as not to relinquish its place in front of the fire. The contentment is physical, visual and auditory; I guess you could call it multi-faceted contentment. An animal sprawled by the fire always has a look of pure ecstasy on its face, snoring like a happy little bulldozer. You can imagine the battles that ensue when it’s time for doggles to go out to the sleeping area for the night. Poppy the dog fakes deafness, paralysis and osmosis into her pillow just to escape the nightly ritual of going out to her sleeping area. Ah, the joys of a winter fire.
My Dog Digs Me and I Dig My Dog
I was sitting at my Mum and Dad's last week having dinner with the family when Poppy came over, rested her chin on my arm really softly and just gazed up at me with those soft brown eyes, and I thought, Wow, look at this dog, she is so adoring. I have owned dogs and been around dogs my whole life, but just in that moment it was like... like... I don’t know quite how to describe it but far out man, my eyes almost started leaking. When I am away for a night, Poppy sits by the door and waits for me to come home; if I put on a pair of socks on in the weekend, she is right there wagging her tail saying 'Where are we going and how can I help?' If I am going for a run she almost explodes with excitement and leaves me with the guilts if I don’t take her along; when I get home at night she charges around the front lawn barking, letting anyone who knows that her favourite person in the world has come home.
Somehow life is becoming increasingly complex with the simplification we obtain from all the wonderful technology we are presented with. We are hit by a barrage of emails, texts, phone calls, podcasts, tweets and all kinds of groovy stuff meaning we process even more information than we ever have and just in that moment, my little mongrel dog conveyed more in a look and a wee nudge than you could relay with a hundred words, tweets, texts and a half a dozen Facebook 'likes' thrown in.
I dig my dog, and my dog digs me. They sure are man's best friend - sorry Ono (my cat); Poppy got the jump on you with this one.