Bark if I have told you this before but I really must get it off my chest. It is not like that lazy itch you get with fleas when a few scratches to the tummy or a nip to back will satisfy you for a little. What am I going on about you ask? It is the job of being a guide dog. No, No! I don’t want you to go on about what a cushy job I’ve got. I know all that stuff about, being well fed, going for lots of walks and being a boss of sorts to make sure master doesn’t walk into danger. I want to talk about me. And don’t sniff me like that Rastus; I am not supposed to circle round otherwise he might trip up.
The question really is: am I still a dog? I know few of us really know our parents, certainly not our dog father. And who can remember our fellow cubs in the litter? It’s just that I rarely do really doggy things. I’ve been trained you see, right from a puppy to do just one job and to forget all the really canine things in life. Oh I remember when being licked by my mother (together with the other five pups), her going on about that I must remember that dogs are the most important animal. Dogs are the true link between man and beasts because we tamed them to accept us into their lives as an exchange of needs. We needed to be fed and they needed us to bark, it is a simple as that.
Then she told me about our special gifts, about another Labrador that used to collect things. I bet he was my father. Well he lived in a family home and couldn’t fetch rabbits and birds that the man had killed with his banging stick, because his man didn’t do that sort of thing. So one morning he managed to get out the side gate by squeezing under it and seeing a rolled up newspaper on the front lawn, thought it would be a good idea to see if there were any more to bring back. I have no idea why his master was cross when he found this great heap of newspapers on his lawn a little later. But Rastus who can figure out these humans?
Rastus? Rastus you are a mean dog you have left me alone talking to myself. Hello, master is getting off his seat. It is time to go. Who would be a guide dog?
Thank you for the smile!
ReplyDeletearf...arf how about a bone instead of this old dry dog food
ReplyDeleteguide dogs are lovely creatures - special and smart to be able to go through the extensive training and bond with their masters to be, to the point of being ubiquitous. Lovely of you to give him a voice. He deserves a hug and a nice soup bone.
ReplyDeleteoh wow... robin this was a creative write up :)
ReplyDeleteThanks for the dog's eye view of the world of guidance. Sometimes it helps. Actually, it set me to thinking if maybe my job, which seems so complicated, and my life, which seems so important, might read this way to God.
ReplyDeleteWhat a heart-warming piece - interesting question 'is he still a dog?'..they must have to surpress many of their doggy urges..very cheering on a frosty morning..thank you for visiting and making me smile..Jae
ReplyDeleteI have a soft spot for work that explores the thoughts and heart of our furry friends... This was a great take on "guidance" and one that gave me a nice chuckle.
ReplyDeleteVery clever take on this prompt! A great guide dog tribute too!!! Well done and fun!!! Great sense of humor!
ReplyDeleteHugs Giggles
smart take,
ReplyDeletelovely humor and delightful read.
Blessings fly your way.
Jingle from Sunday Scribbling.