Monday, 6 August 2007

Z is fluent in Dog

I almost forgot to write, as I've been commenting almost everywhere today. I thought, earlier, what I was going to write about, and now I've forgotten. I have an impassioned post all formed, but I feel quite mellow now, so it can wait.

Like the Boy, we had salmon for dinner tonight. Farmed, however, for the Wild* Atlantic variety is not delivered to my door by the good fishmonger Paul. And beans and pasta. As I gathered together the final forkful, Tilly appeared by my chair, tail wagging. How did she know it was the final forkful? She's a dog. Dogs know.

I had, of course, put aside morsels of both salmon and pasta to share with her. She accepted them gracefully, without snatching. She breathed cowpat breath and we gazed at each other. Undoubtedly, she told me that she's got the message. Eating cowpats is acceptable, rolling in them is not. I stroked her, telling her how long and elegant her neck is without her collar (which, washed, is still in the porch). She leaned in towards my hand appreciatively.

She looked at me again. I took an extra piece of pasta from the serving dish. "It'll only go to the chickens" she had said.

You may think, by the way, that I pamper my dog. Chester, who died nearly three years ago, would disagree. He used to sit up at the table, on his own chair, to eat cheese. He had impeccable table manners.

*I'd have put in a quip about 'wild? it was furious', but it's been done before.

12 comments:

jen said...

when you start getting the dog drunk, then we need to talk. till then, it's all good.

Z said...

I'd offer her a small glass of sherry (I'd never get her drunk, that would be wrong) but she prefers not to indulge.

When I was a child, our horse used to have a Sunday pint of Guinness, but that's another story (and no, I didn't ride, he was a rescued horse).

Dave said...

My dog would always wait patiently in another room while we ate, but as the last mouthful was being swallowed, would appear so that plates could be scraped into his dish.

I think the reason I'm putting on weight is that I have to eat everything on my plate myself, since he died.

Z said...

When I'm away, it feels wrong not to have a dog under the table to finish the scraps. When we're out for a meal, my husband wraps morsels in a paper napkin to bring home for her, but I don't - I want all her pleasure to be in seeing me, not what I'm going to give her!

Steg said...

My two dogs are incessant scroungers and appear not to have the intelligence to realise that if they actually backed off a bit they might do rather better.

Good to hear you're felling mellow, by the way.

Murph said...

Oh Z, are there any vacances at your 5 Star Hotel?

("Oh Z" is you, not my young halitosis prone companion btw)

Z said...

I expect Tilly to wait quietly and politely until I'm ready to feed her. My children would laugh at me saying this, as they believe I'm hopelessly indulgent and incapable of saying no, but it's not true. I also expect to be able to leave food, however tempting, within reach of a dog and it not touch it without permission - unless one puts the plate on the floor, when it's fair game as that's the dog's territory.

I'm still feeling calm and cheerful this morning. Usually a sign that shit is about to hit the fan, but let's hope not.

Murph, I'll keep a chair just for you. Do you like Stilton or cheddar best? Or a nice ripe Camembert? I know you will have the manners not to put your paws on the table, but what about Oz? Had he better be fed on the floor?

martin said...

Dogs and food. When Mozart was alive he was generally very good when food was left unattended. However one night when I had bought a fabulous cheeseburger in, I put it on a plate and took it to the sitting room. I thought I need a beer. When I returned there was no burger to be seen.
Just a strange chewing noise from behind the sofa. I just had to laugh, he loved burgers too!.

Z said...

It's when you think a dog is trustworthy that you become careless, isn't it.

badgerdaddy said...

Shamrock, my friends' Great Dane, was the greatest food thief that has ever lived. They had hardwood floors, yet when she was looking for food, you would never hear the click of a claw. I'm sure she could walk on her heels. She once lifted a sandwich out of someone's hand at some traffic lights, ever so daintily, and the girl didn't even notice. My friend had to apologise and was really embarrassed, while finding it hilarious.
She was great. I miss her.

Z said...

Chester once took a slurp out of a friend's teacup, which he had put on the floor. My friend, though not a dogowner, was quite unperturbed and drank the rest of the tea.

luckyzmom said...

Totally delightful reads, both post and comment.