Barking!

Tags

Alpha male, Blackberry, Deputy Dawg, Dogtanian, DOGTV, Hound of the Baskervilles, mobile app, separation anxiety, sheepdog trials, SmartDog, stress medication, treat dispenser

Carrie had been giving directions to a woman who asked her where

Costamuchamoulah must-seen cafe was.  While she was indicating its

location to the caffeine pilgrim, ie/ that it was right behind her, the

woman was gazing fixedly into her Blackberry and was only half listening.

She clearly distrusted any information unless she could verify it from

her phone.

Okay, darling.  Love ya, she called off.

Semi-exasperated, Carrie said:  Look, I’m going there myself. 

Just follow me.

Minutes later she was regaling this to me as we settled into our

corner for a couple of lattes and a natter.

What’s up? I asked her.  You look a bit stressed.

Oh, it’s just that I’ve been worried about the pugs lately.  We seem

to leave them alone for ages at a time.

But your au pair, Magda, is around, isn’t she?

Not really.  Now that the kids have gone back to school, Magda

is more and more occupied round at Gyles’ mother’s.

But they have each other for company, surely?  I tried to appear

concerned.

Yes, I suppose so, but Brassie was saying that when the boys

went back, Andy, the Border, was going ballistic being home alone. 

He chewed Cosmo’s Christmas present from Castor- an astronomy

book.

He’s always been difficult, I pointed out.  Alpha male and all that.

Hmm..maybe the dog is mimicking his behaviour.

I meant the dog, silly!

Oh.  Anyway, Brassie told me that she’s been watching a programme

about the secret lives of Man’s Best Friend and it showed what dogs

got up to when their owners are out.  They’re psychologically disturbed

and have separation anxiety.

The owners? I was trying to be funny.

Both, I suppose.  It’s mutual.  Well, Brassie has enrolled Andy in a kind

of doggy creche where he receives stimulation and activities.

I bet he likes milk and biscuit time the best, I laughed, but sobered up

when I considered whether owners would receive tax breaks or

vouchers from the government.  She must have more money than

sense, I concluded.

I suppose you won’t approve of me either. Carrie looked somewhat

shame-faced.

Why?  What have you done?

Don’t tell Gyles, but I’ve ordered a device called ‘SmartDog’ which

incorporates a web camera, microphone and treat dispenser.  I’m

going to mount it on the kitchen wall and, using the mobile app, I will

be able to see the pugs, even when I’m out and about.

I don’t believe this!

Candia!  Please!  I’m going to record a message and then I can speak

to them.  There’s even a sensor which means that they can call me.

Right, I remonstrated.  So, what you’re saying is that when you’re

having a conversation with me, your dog or dogs can interrupt and can

receive instant gratification and attention?  It’s bad enough being put on

hold in the real world by people sidelining you while they chat to their

children or friends, who just cut in on your quality time with a real

presence.

It improves interaction, Carrie continued, less confidently.

Not with your fellow humans, I insisted.  I mean, whatever next?!

Oh, DOGTV, Carrie carried on, ruining my rhetorical device.  It’s

24/7 and encourages dog playfulness.  It reduces the need for stress

medication.

In whom?  I bet that there will be a dogfight when the twins come home

if Andy has the remote.  Or will they all watch The Hound of the Baskervilles

together?  Or maybe repeats of Dogtanian, sheepdog trials, Deputy Dawg

cartoons, or A Hundred and One Dalmations?

Oh, you’re so cynical, Candia!

We heard a mobile phone ring.  The woman whom Carrie had shown in

answered it.  Yes, sweetheart, I know.  Poor Diddums.  Mummy won’t be long

Do you want a treat?  You do?  Okay, lovey.  See you very soon.  Lots of love.

She’s obviously got SmartDog. Carrie’s eyes dilated with awe and envy.

Maybe that’s why she’s on her own, I speculated.  This is a genuine case

of the dog wagging the tail, and not the converse.  Personally, I think

she’s barking!

.

Digging Up The Past

Tags

Alex Salmond, dermo-abrasion, Dogtanian, Dundee University, hirsutism, Plymouth Brethren, Shakers

You can’t find a seat at certain times in Costamuchamoulah must-seen cafe,

in spite of the recession.  As I waited to pounce on a spare seat, I observed

the lovely Citronella, proud owner of the newly-entitled Beauty and

the Beast, once named Pride Knows No Pain, gassing away with her bosomy

buddy and colleague, Melinda, the masseuse, or Mimi as she self-

styles.  Ella was unaware of the frothy moustache on her upper lip

until Mimi indicated it.  Strange, since the lemony one is known to

spot any hint of hirsutism at fifty paces.  She licked the tide mark off

with a tongue that was surprisingly not forked.

Do you know, she addressed her sidekick, they are going to create  

500 new-builds on brown sites in the town, and that small patch of

land behind us is the first to be excavated.  That’s where we put our

cars, so goodness knows how we are all going to survive, unless we

become Amish, or Shakers and Movers and return to horsepower,

like those zipless people in America that took in some UK

students for a steep learning curve in what was supposed to be

a boot camp.

Weren’t they Plymouth Brethren?

No, they’re our locals, but they don’t come into the shop.

You meant the people on that programme where the brats loved

discipline, chastity classes and hankered after rules? queried Mimi.

I quite liked their clothes, actually .

(I was somewhat surprised at this remark from one who

sheds outer garments like a disinhibited chrysalis.)

Yes, that’s the people I meant, Ella explained.  I sympathised with

their moral code, but their no make-up policy would be a killer for

our livelihoods….Getting back to the council, though, it definitely

shouldn’t be digging up car parks.  It’ll ruin everyone’s business.

 But digging up the past’s the latest craze now, Mimi elucidated. 

Councils all over the country are hoping to unearth some celebrity

skeletal remains, so they can attract tourists…

who would have nowhere to park when they arrived, Ella clarified.

I agree, Mimi hastened to positively stroke her employer, in the

metaphorical sense only. But- you know what? – I don’t see anyone

wanting to build on that little plot. 

Hmm, Ella interjected, but, supposing Sonia’s Phantom Cavalier’s bones

were to be unearthed, he could be laid to rest in sanctified ground and she

might get some peace from his paranormal activity in Royalist House.

Mimi looked thoughtful. I don’t suppose Sonia would agree to selling

that plot, though.  She has some rights over it, surely? Access over it is

the only way she can have her bins emptied.

What do you think of those facial reconstructions, Mimi?  Ella changed

the subject. I saw that someone from Dundee University made a model of

that Scottish poet’s face, but it just looked like Alex Salmond with a pony tail.

Mimi had never heard of Scotland’s First Minister and so she

affected an even greater confidence:

Facial reconstruction is what you do every day, Ella.  These people

are amateurs.  You know all there is about peels and dermo-abrasion. 

You didn’t need to go to university for those skills.

Well, it’s nice to have your vote of confidence, Mimi.  I suppose

that if we have hundreds of new-builds, we’ll have plenty of new

clients. And if the Council uncovers The Phantom Cavalier, there will

be plenty more tourists.  Unless Suttonford has a huge feud with

Suttonfield over who gets to keep the bones. It’ll be just like the

Battle of Suttonford all over again.

Oh, breathed Mimi.  All those Dogtanian-types will probably require

quite a bit of massage.  I know they’re tactile: they wore velvet,

didn’t they?

Ella couldn’t understand the non-sequitur but she humoured Mimi

nevertheless:

It’ll be all for one and one for all! laughed Ella.

And all out for themselves, I thought. They’d even hogged the spare chairs

by strewing their coats and carriers over them.

I wasn’t going to wait any longer.  I went next door to the opposition.

Their attitude to customers is less cavalier.