It’s a dog’s life
Posted on December 1, 2006
Filed Under Outside Dublin, Sport, fauna, holiday, sea, weekend, women | Comments Off
mama isadub has joined the internet age and installed broadband in her house. Well, actually, I installed it since supertech, my brother, tried to get it running but failed since there was no wrenches or hammers involved. Now she can download email from her sister a nanosecond quicker. She’s had it for about a week now and, in that time, she’s discovered Bord Bia‘s recipe website. When she told me, my stomach had an involuntary reflux moment but I managed to control it. She’s actually a good cook but here’s an example of what I’m up against.
I visited today to do the computer updates and walk her dog (long story but karma is involved!!). Since the updates would take an hour or more, I asked for a can of coke. She didn’t have any cans cold enough. In her opinion, this is a mortal sin so she dashed to the shops to buy me a can of coke. She returned with three cans of coke, a large packet of mini-mars bars and two tins of dog food for
methe dog. Sometimes 2+2=5!
She’s a typical Irish mammy – she won’t rest until the visitor has eaten. She doesn’t eat while I’m eating – ‘Oh, I’ve just had lunch etc‘. Dell, or whoever, should employ her for her just-in-time skills. She doesn’t exactly hover around me while I’m eating but I wouldn’t be suprised if someday she bought a gadget that measured the tension of my trouser buttons to ensure I’d eaten enough in one sitting to last a complete week.
She’s also bought a digital camera, the Canon Powershot A540, from Pixmania. My suggestion was to start at the A540 and have a look around since her budget was approx €200. But, no, she just bought it. Pixmania is a French company and DHL do their deliveries. I showed her the DHL tracking website and how the information showed how it was in France on Wed, the Uk on Thurs, and in the back of an Irish van today (Friday). And, as luck karma would have it, the DHL guy actually showed up at the exact same moment. She was dumbstruck. Actually, she wasn’t dumbstruck. She triumphantally told the delivery man how ‘my son‘ was tracking him to the front door. He looked at me. And I looked at him. And all I could do was smile weakly.
Anyhows, I brought the dog for a walk. Talk about mind games!! Mama isadub has Snowy well trained. Or maybe it’s vice versa? Most days, they walk to the nearby beach following a particular route and then they walk home, again, along a particular route but smartypants isadub had to choose a alternative path. it was a different, shorter, route because it was going to rain very soon. Isadub, with his glasses, doesn’t do rain but Snowy wasn’t having any of it.
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That’s what we saw on the beach. I put the collar and leash on the dog as tightly as I dared and brought him to the beach. All went reasonably well until it started to rain. I ‘explained‘ to Snowy that it was time to go home because the rain was making me feel uncomfortable. In a fine display of empathy, Snowy refused to budge and dug his heels in (literally). I tugged at the leash as hard as I dared to encourage him to come home (to the car). The ungrateful bastard slipped out of his collar and ran away, through a puddle, in the opposite direction. I knew if I ran after him, he’d only run further away, thinking it was a game. So I jumped in the car and chased after him.
When I caught up with Snowy, he promptly started running back towards the beach! Luckily, he seemed to get a bit afraid of all this ‘freedom‘ so, when I called to him, he came running back to me like a long lost son. I was having none of it. There was no back seat, cushioned, ride for him since he’d insisted on walking through every puddle and body of water available. As a prisoner of war, he was deposited in the large boot (of my S-Max) and driven escorted him home.
My mother’s neighbours must have thought something weird was happening when I arrived back. Normally, I park my car opposite the house but this time, I reversed my car right up to my mother’s front door. I alighted and opened the front door of the house before I went back to the car boot. I had to distract Snowy before I opened the boot but I picked him up and physically carried him inside the house like a Category A prisoner serving life for heinous crimes.
And do you know what the fecker did once inside? He walked strutted upstairs to his bed like nothing unusual had happened. Just a walk in the park (or the beach) for him. Me? I had to sit down for a few minutes and compose myself. I can cope with business pressures, instant decision-making, and mega-bucks deals but an arthritic, asthmatic walking ball of hair just throws me!
I am definitely never, ever, going to rub his back or tickle his belly again. I may scratch behind his ear from time to time but I won’t mean it.
Sometimes you just can’t win but that’s life, I guess!
