Hi everyone! I hope you’re all well. Today is Wednesday, and it’s time for another post in the Wednesday Weekly Blogging Challenge hosted by Long and Short Reviews. If you would like to participate in the challenge, you can find the topics for 2024 here, and if you would like to read other people’s responses to this week’s topic, you can find them here. 

A Funny Animal Video, Photo, Story etc.

Oh, the stories I have about our dogs! I love dogs. Their personalities are as varied and layered as humans, and just like humans, they have their own quirks and idiosyncrasies.
 
Sash
When I was eleven, we got a dog called Sash, who lived to the ripe old age of eighteen. She was my favourite living thing in the whole universe, and I truly believe I was hers. She never left my side for more than a minute — god forbid I needed the bathroom. I’d be in there, getting on with things, then, suddenly, the door would burst open, and there would be Sash, looking at me with that look of desperate love.

She was such a caring creature. She would lie beside me at night, her head on the pillow next to mine, and she would wait until I was asleep before moving to the foot of the bed. Sometimes, I used to trick her by pretending to be sleeping, and she would start to move down the bed, but if she caught me watching her, she would sigh with frustration and come back up the bed to lie with me until I was really asleep. It was like she saw me as her baby.

Also, whenever my brother and I came to fisticuffs, as so often happened when we were kids, without fail, I would end up pinned to the floor with my brother kneeling on my chest. Invariably, Sash would bark a few warnings for him to release me (being that she was a German Shepherd, I always imagined her saying in a German accent, ‘Unhand him, you fiend’). When he wouldn’t, she would run around behind him and bite him right on the bum. Oooh, the memories.

Momo
Years later, we rescued another dog, who was only five weeks old when we took her in. She was called Gizmo (because on her first night with us, half-starved, she ate her food and immediately demanded more — hence, giz-more = Gizmo). My nephew couldn’t say Gizmo when he came along, only managing Momo, so that’s what ended up sticking.

Momo’s previous human wasn’t kind to her, and she ended up with some brain damage. The vet told us that she would never be able to understand when she did something wrong. So if you told her off for something, she would stare at you happily, panting and wagging her tail, clueless.

One afternoon, my mum cooked a pork joint for the Sunday roast and placed it on a dish on the kitchen worktop. A short while later, she left to visit a friend’s house.

Upon her return, she discovered the joint of pork was gone. It had vanished completely. Eventually, she traced it to my brother’s bed, where Momo sat happily clearing off the last meaty morsel. Poor Sash had hidden herself away lest she bear any blame for Momo’s naughtiness. 

The reason this story is remarkable is that Momo would have had to climb up on my mum’s chair (a dining chair she was usually permanently affixed to), clamber onto one kitchen worktop next to it, walk across the hot oven in which said pork had just been cooked, clamber over the other worktop to collect her prize and the go all the way back.

Not bad for a dog with brain damage.

When my parents died, both dogs came to live with my husband and me. Whenever we’d leave the flat, we would return to find some weird things had occurred while we were out. Doors would be open that shouldn’t be, doors would be closed that should be, and on more than one occasion, we’d find dogs locked in rooms they couldn’t possibly have gotten into.

One morning, when we prepared to leave, I left the laptop webcam recording to find out what on earth was happening when we weren’t home. When we returned and reviewed the video, we discovered Momo had listened for us leaving (she heard our garden gate squeak closed), then jumped up at the kitchen door, pulled it open with her teeth, and, sauntering on in, helped herself to her dog food. Sash is visible momentarily, stopping as Momo’s head vanished into her bag of dried dog food as if to say, ‘I wouldn’t do that!’ Then, she sensibly wanders off into another room. I wish we still had the video because it’s pretty unbelievable.

Another time, on laundry day, Momo climbed the pile of laundry in front of the washing machine and opened the fridge next to it, where she ignored a plate of sausages and instead stole my husband’s cornish pasties. She had very particular tastes.

I enjoyed today’s post. I brought up lots of lovely memories. I hope it made you smile as it did me.

As always, thanks for reading my words!

Until next time,

George

© 2024 GLT

Categories: life, Wednesday Weekly Blogging Challenge

Tags: animals, challenge, dog, dogs, funny animals, Wednesday, Wednesday Weekly Blogging Challenge