Dogs and Their Pets

Ziggy would like to share a few words on the human/canine relationship:

When a dog is born they are assigned a pet human. This is the only thing that doesn’t make sense to me. Dogs have no real choice about which human is assigned to them. It seems to be luck of the draw. And then, of course, there are some dogs that don’t get this privilege of a pet human. I feel kinda sorry for those dogs.

Dogs are very important and they need their pet humans to be really obedient. I often find with my pet Hannah that she is quite stubborn and strong willed. I found her easier to control when I was a puppy and she was kind of drunk on cuteness. We often have a battle of wills and sometimes I win and sometimes she wins.

My work is very important. I look after the house when Hannah is out doing silly human things. I must do this in case intruders break in and steal the house and Hannah and I have to live on the streets. She seems to recognise this as an important task as she always shows me lots of praise when she comes back home to find that I’ve done an excellent job at keeping intruders away.

Humans need plenty of exercise and stimulation and it is also my job to keep my pet Hannah motivated and make sure she gets out for plenty of walks. I do find that she can be lazy at times so I really have to pester her to get up off her lazy arse. When we are out and about I like to catch up with old friends and make acquaintances with new ones. Mostly I am just sussing everything out and making sure that it’s safe for Hannah. Sometimes she meets some of her friends too but their interactions with each other are oftentimes dull. It’s nice when they pat me on the head though.

As much as Hannah can be hard work at times I wouldn’t change her for the world. I’ve seen some dogs whose pet humans are so unruly that they must keep them on a lead at all times, even when there’s no traffic about. I am glad I have my pet under control. The only really, really annoying thing she does is interfere with my work when I’m barking at all the intruders trying to break in. She doesn’t understand that if I don’t keep my guard at all times we could be living on the streets.

Free Bird

So today was rather eventful in my little old life. I had my driving theory test and I passed. I'm not there yet but I'm half way there. I also finished my course, handed in my portfolio, passed my exam and recieved my certificate for the Level Two Counselling Skills. We had all grown fond of each ohter and it was sad to say goodbye. The tutor asked us to participate in one last creative learning task and that was to bring an object from nature to class with us. She told us to spend a bit of time choosing our object and letting ourselves be drawn to something. I would have liked to have gone out to Cullybackey to pick my object and I would have been spoilt for choice. It would also have been nice to meditate on the moment and use all my senses to help me feel drawn to something. As it was I was rushing around and I only had my backyard and down the street to find my object from nature. I looked in my backyard and was immediately uninspired. I went down the street and walked to the little bit of greenery behind the fire station. I saw a feather on the ground and I knew straight away that it was perfect.

When we presented our objects in class the tutor told us to work in pairs and describe the object but use the word 'I' instead of 'it'. She told us to describe it physically and talk about what it's function was and what purpose it aspired to. Interestingly, everyone else in the class had chosen some kind of plant or flower. I was the odd one out. When I described the feather I said it was "long and thin" which is kind of like me but that it was also very strong. It's function was to keep the bird warm, dry and protected and to help them fly. When I saw the feather on the ground I knew I was drawn to it because it represented being as a free as a bird. The feather also functions as an old fashioned pen and I love to write. With pens. I would write with feathers but ink is very messy.

So all in all it's been a good day. I now have a summer of Thursdays free and that can only mean one thing. I get to spend more time with my darling nieces. The two little ones who never fail to put a smile on my face.

Putting Humpty Together Again

I guess my readers (all 5 of them) are eagerly waiting to hear about the progress of my toenail. Well, what an experience it’s been! Only I could view it as such because that’s how my brain works. I managed to keep the half nail attached for a couple of days with plasters. I woke up one morning and the nail had fallen off. I was glad because I could see the nail that was left and there was a bit more of it than I had thought. But the soft nail bed was exposed and this made me feel just as grossed out as when I wasn’t sure what was lurking underneath the dead nail.

That first night I went to bed and had a struggle getting to sleep. I tossed and I turned. No matter what I did I was acutely aware of the fact that my toe nail was missing. I whimpered. I tossed and turned some more. I prayed to god that I would never EVER be tortured and have my nails removed because this was unbearable. Even the air irritated it. It wasn’t actually painful, just very, very uncomfortable. My toe felt nervy and raw and sensitive. The next day I woke up and felt fine. I went to work and by the end of the day I was aware of that horrible nervy sensation again. I put in another restless night trying to drift off to sleep but being kept awake by a sickening feeling. By the third night I had my toe bandaged up my Nurse Nelly and since then it’s been unproblematic. It must have grown enough for me to feel like it’s not so exposed and tender now.

I love analogies and last year, at the beginning of my course, we had a class that was about ‘body dialogue’. This is the idea that our bodies are telling us everything we need to know if we just listen to it. We did an exercise in class and we talked about certain parts of the body and how they felt. What would that part of the body say if it could speak? I recall that day having a twitch in my eye and I said it felt restless and twitchy, like there was a little man with a fishing rod who had hooked my eye and was constantly tugging on it. I pondered it at the time but now I wonder if that little man with the fishing rod was trying to get me to look in the direction he thought I should be looking.

The physical discomfort of my big toe matched the emotional discomfort I went through at Christmas. For some reason I like it when this happens. It’s like the physical aspect of it is a sign that it’s working its way out of your system. You are truly healing. I can’t attribute all the pain I felt at Christmas to my ex-boyfriend. I had a whole lot of other hurt I needed to get out of my system before he even came along. I suspect he did too. But it’s ok because I’m training to be a counsellor and as someone once said “All the king’s horses and all the king’s men couldn’t put Humpty together again but we can because we’re counsellors”.

In Dreams

I might as well rename my blog The Palace Of Heavenly Ziggy. I don't mind admitting that I haven't a while lot else to write about at the minute. In the weeks leading up to Ziggy's birthday I kept telling him that he was going to be a big boy and he'd have to start behaving a little more responsibly. It actually seems to have worked. He hasn't miraculously turned into the most well behaved dog overnight but we are getting there. For example, last night he was barking out the window at nothing. He probably heard a leaf rustling in the wind. I had a stern conversation with him. It went like this: Now Ziggy, you're going out to see your GRANNY tomorrow, and to see JUDY and JESS but you have to be a GOOD boy, or you won't get to see GRANNY. NO more barking out the window and being BAD or you will GO TO BED and you won't see GRANNY. Ziggy listened to this with his head cocking from left to right. He sighed and lay down and went to sleep. Of course, all Ziggy heard was GRANNY JUDY JESS GOOD GRANNY NO BAD GO TO BED GRANNY but he understood what I was saying to him.

And, seemingly, he had a great day flying about with Fly, a dog that does exactly what it says on the tin. Which is fly. Ziggy barely had enough energy to eat a few mouthfuls of his dinner before conking out on the sofa again. I haven't told him yet but I phoned the vet today and booked him in for his change of life operation. As soon as I got off the phone I felt guilty. I seem to recall feeling much less guilty about Rocky getting his balls chopped. I suppose the thought of dozens of unwanted baby rats eased my conscience a bit. Ziggy has made further progress in that he can now "play dead" on command. He has also rolled over a few times for me as when he was playing dead he figured he was half way there and he might as well please me. The wee dude's lying flat out on his back, snoring at the minute. I've been thinking about doggy dreams recently and wondering if they have very boring dreams that involve chasing balls or do they have crazy epic dreams that they are chasing a rabbit with a duck's head and they follow it into a burrow that leads through twisty tunnels and eventually brings them out in a butcher's shop where cat's are their servants and humans are their playthings and the hottest bitches are in town smelling of fox dung and calf shit? I'm going for the latter. I'd like to think dogs can have crazy dreams too. The way Ziggy's eyelids and paws are twitching at the minute would suggest that he's having a good time whatever he's doing.

It's My Party And I'll Huff If I Want To

So it was Ziggy's birthday and he started the day off at his granny's house where he had runs and chases and a birthday boke. When he got home I gave him the birthday presents from the flatmate and me. He then posed (very reluctantly) for a millisecond just so I could get this reminder of his very special day. Of course, typical Ziggy had to show his displeasure by huffing. I went to the birthday girls' party on Saturday night. I missed the stripper but was there for the pineapple hunt, which, unbeknownst to me consisted of two pineapples that were doing the rounds. We toasted Sunshine and Moonshine with zambuca soaked pineapple and sangria. It was a lovely night.

But the real action in my life all lies in my big toe. Before Christmas I dropped heavy crates on my toe. It started to grow out black. Eventually white nail started to grow and i have been patiently waiting for the black to grow out. Disaster struck the other night. It is half way up and the nail has started to come away. This happened on Sunday night. I felt queasy about it but I stuck a plaster over the nail to keep it attached for now. I went to work on Monday and thought about my nail only briefly at times. I went to my interview (which went ok I think so fingers crossed!)and afterwards I stopped in at the podiatrist. They were fully booked. I went home and took Ziggy for a walk. All of a sudden I became very aware of a senstaion in my big toe. Not sore, but nervy and a bit unpleasant. I soldiered on with the walk and came home and phoned my mum who reassured me that my toe probably wouldn't fall off. It didn;t stop me worrying about infection. I made some cheese and crackers with branston pickle (I had this same snack the night before because I've been too lazy to get groceries) and after a couple of bites I got a really strange taste in my mouth like metal but really bitter. I drank some water and took another bite. Again, that tangy, metallic taste. I checked the date of the branston pickle. It was fine. Besides, I'd had it the night before. I couldn't finish the rest as my stomach was turned. I had unfounded suspicions that this was related to my toenail. Somehow. I then felt cold and weak. So cold. It hadn't been an unpleasant day but I was shivery. This was probably the infection setting in, I told myself. I went to bed and I could feel my cheeks burning. My big toe felt warm and unpleasant. I shuffled around trying to get comfortable. I told myself it would be fine in the morning. And it was. I got to work in lively spirits but after an hour I started to feel drained. I felt like I was wading through mud all day and I felt a tightness in my chest.

It's amazing how the mind works. And how illness can escalate and how you can actually make yourself sick by thinking about it. I know I'll be fine. Though I felt sick in the bath because I was thinking about the water seeping under the nail (I get this same queasiness when I see wtaer sitting in my belly button. I feel like it's gonna seep into my body and drown me). I was lucky enough to capture this shot of Meka and Ziggy the other day. They are rather fond of each other though it's rare for Ziggy to be patient enough to let Meka come to him. I think it's a very sweet photo.