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A crime has been committed, but don't blame the dog
Last edited Sun May 26, 2024, 05:52 PM - Edit history (1)
https://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/article/2024/may/26/a-has-been-committed-but-dont-blame-the-dogA crime has been committed, but don’t blame the dog
Séamas O’Reilly
Someone has shripped a parcel to shreds, but it can’t have been Dougie
Sun 26 May 2024 04.30 EDT
If ever you land near death’s door, you may find yourself scrolling the options for non-human reincarnation. A noble eagle, perhaps, or a river dolphin; a mountain goat, or a stolid little bumblebee. Your best bet would be to come back as one of my father’s dogs. Free of human responsibility, you’ll still reap many of civilisation’s core benefits, like living indoors, eating cooked meals and watching Loose Women.
Moreover, you will know the love of humankind, for Annie and Dougie – his beautiful but large and needy Labradors – are my father’s most ardent objects of affection and his favourite topic of conversation. They are also, I should add, his favourite conversational partners. Sometimes, while talking to him this week, I’ve caught his face screwing up in resentment as he realises that he is reduced to speaking to a person. Most of all, he is their indefatigable advocate on those occasions when I speak calumny against them.
‘Dougie did it!’ I told him, as he immediately assumed high dudgeon. ‘I have seen no evidence of this,’ he exclaimed, all but donning a powdered wig and silk robe.
[...]
On the day of their arrival, a quick look outside revealed that the postman, presumably well used to the ogrish hounds that blight his daily route, had not brought the parcel straight to the door, but discarded it and run away, quite possibly laying down suppressive fire from a machine gun as he retreated.
[...]
Séamas O’Reilly
Someone has shripped a parcel to shreds, but it can’t have been Dougie
Sun 26 May 2024 04.30 EDT
If ever you land near death’s door, you may find yourself scrolling the options for non-human reincarnation. A noble eagle, perhaps, or a river dolphin; a mountain goat, or a stolid little bumblebee. Your best bet would be to come back as one of my father’s dogs. Free of human responsibility, you’ll still reap many of civilisation’s core benefits, like living indoors, eating cooked meals and watching Loose Women.
Moreover, you will know the love of humankind, for Annie and Dougie – his beautiful but large and needy Labradors – are my father’s most ardent objects of affection and his favourite topic of conversation. They are also, I should add, his favourite conversational partners. Sometimes, while talking to him this week, I’ve caught his face screwing up in resentment as he realises that he is reduced to speaking to a person. Most of all, he is their indefatigable advocate on those occasions when I speak calumny against them.
‘Dougie did it!’ I told him, as he immediately assumed high dudgeon. ‘I have seen no evidence of this,’ he exclaimed, all but donning a powdered wig and silk robe.
[...]
On the day of their arrival, a quick look outside revealed that the postman, presumably well used to the ogrish hounds that blight his daily route, had not brought the parcel straight to the door, but discarded it and run away, quite possibly laying down suppressive fire from a machine gun as he retreated.
[...]