Friday, 12 July 2019
Reading time 01 minutes 20 seconds
The world would be a nicer place if everyone had the ability to love as unconditionally as a dog. – M.K. Clinton
My earliest and happiest memories is with our family dog*.
Mum would always shout at me not to let her lick your face. Why ever not? It was like a kiss, but much much better. If I had to let my scary nan kiss me then surely my dog easily qualifies and then one day the penny dropped.
She was beautiful, the dog that is not my nan. She was a Doberman Cross, again the dog not my nan, not that she was angry. For the final time my dog not my nan, who was a little angry. She was one part Doberman and one part something else that we never knew nor cared about.
My step mum always laughed at my dad’s 1950s values with her. The Dog, not my Step Mum. If she was on heat, the dog that is, not my step mum, dad would be warned to keep her inside. It’s OK he’d insist, She’s a good girl. How the dog understood this is beyond me. She either used contraception, or was not interested in sex as any of these would have resulted in no pregnancies. Or she could have just been a good girl as she never fell pregnant.
My earliest memory of the pair of us is carved into my brain.
There’ s a tin Pedigree Chum dog food in a hubcap. It’s still in the shape of the tin and still wobbling from where it slid out of the tin with that satisfying SCHLUPP sound.
We’re sitting in our back garden and four eyes looking at the majesty of that little tower of goodness. Then we’d share it.
A little bit for her, a little bit for me. It was delicious! To this day the small of Pedigree Chum makes me drool in anticipation and nostalgia.
On my birth certificate my dad is registered as a Painter. This is true in a roundabout sort of way as he had a railway arch lock up and was a panel beater but painter sounds much more romantic. Our Doberman Cross lived in this arch and would be a guard dog at night to keep the thieves away. Good girl she may have been, sadly she was terrible at her guarding duties as my dad had many break ins over the years.
I’d often be at work with my dad during the school holidays and sadly there was no toilet. If I needed a pooh I had to dig a hole in the back yard and make my deposit in there.
One day I learnt that I didn’t need to put the initial work in because my dog would eat my deposit, and once I learned that she never licked my face again.
To be on the safe side I didn’t let my nan kiss me again either.
*Obviously I can’t reveal my dogs real name as I’d have my identity stolen.
Picture: I was performing at The Dead Pigeon which we can all agree is the Best bar in Rochester Kent and this photo was taken of my shadow. I did wonder why people were laughing.