Monday, January 25, 2010

Day 113

I think my status as a dog whisperer is in jeopardy. I am trying to get inside the head of a Labrador but I just can’t work out what is making him tick at the moment.

Max (the hip gyrating lab) is seriously thick. Thick as a brick. Thicker in fact. He is probably as thick as two short planks. Nope, thicker. He is as thick as a brick and two short planks cemented together. For many people who know Max this may not be news, but we’ve always defended him suggesting that he may not be stupid but actually incredibly clever! So he doesn’t fetch a ball – maybe because he is super-intelligent and realises fetch is for the weak (or something). So he gets in trouble on the farm for chasing the horses, but we know he’s not actually chasing them, he is just running with them to increase his fitness. He eats things that aren't actually edible (like door mats, bikinis and chook poo) but maybe he has exotic tastes and likes to try foreign food? Occasionally he runs into closed doors at full speed, but that could be the need for glasses. We have always had lots of excuses for Max to defend him against his stupid label. He’s far to sweet to be stupid. (But maybe they say that about all blondes? Apologies to the blondes out there ... I am not actually "blondist" just jealous.)

But lately it has become obvious that he is very dense. Millie’s arrival seems to have turned him blonder that usual. And no, it’s not because he is enamoured with the dainty white fluffy. The opposite. For some reason he just does not acknowledge that Millie is a dog. He doesn’t even see her, smell her or hear her. She is completely invisible to him. So much so that he bowls her over with every available opportunity. Next time we take Millie to the vet I am sure they are going to have the RSPCA called in to assess her for abuse. She has to be bruised and battered and probably has internal injuries because Max isn’t exactly a light animal. Yesterday as Derek got the dogs organised for their walk on the beach he said the magic word – “walk” – and Max came bounding through the living room catching Millie between his legs bowling her over into a yapping somersault. Derek reprimanded him by sending him back to sit on his mat, which Max did but only after he bounded back in the other direction and skittled Millie again. Derek is now feeling a bit distraught for the white fluffy so calls her to him so he can inspect the damage. Max thinks he’s about to miss out on the walk comes roaring over the top of her yet AGAIN causing her to squeal and bite defensively into the air as she goes for another cartwheel. “Max! You absolute tosser” (or words to that effect) filled the air, but Max with tongue hanging out and happiness in his eyes continues to bound about with all the grace of an elephant in joyous oblivion. He seriously has no clue that she is there. I don’t think he can actually see her. He doesn’t acknowledge her. What does he think she is? A toy? I know she looks like a muppet (there are times I am sure I can actually see a wrist inside her neck and hand inside her head controlling her movement), but even a muppet would get more respect from Max than Millie does. He side-steps around socks lying on the floor but will not side-step poor Millie. She is invisible to him. Completely invisible. Have they had some sort of falling out? They seriously don't give each other the time of day. Does he say to her in gay dog-speak “you are invisible to me girlfriiiieeeennnd!” Or is it because I was right all along and the dogs are "breedist" and waiting for the KKK of dogdom to intervene (the DDD). Or is Millie a home-a-phobe?

It’s left Derek and I scratching our heads in wonder and frustration. It throws my self proclaimed dog whisperer status out the window. I haven’t a clue what is going on in Max’s brain (other than “Walk! Yipeeeee. Walk! Wooo Hoooo. Walk! Roooooooffffff. Walk! Take me with you, take me with you ….) Does anyone out there specialise in dog psychology? Might be time to give Dr Harry a call …

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