One's philosophy of barking long distance is very important. The humans, I am told, have an elaborate history where it concerns long distance barking. My breed has used the same standard methods for some 3,000 years, all the way back to our earliest days wandering the hills of Wales. My research has shown that some nearby humans were using a similar method to our long distance bark which they called "piping" and which they accomplished with a sack that was sometimes floppy, sometimes puffy, and always had very inviting sticks poking out of it. I must sadly add that we were not, under any circumstances, allowed to chew on this "bagpipe", as they called it, even though the humans themselves frequently put their mouths on it. Drawbacks considered, I hold this to be the golden age of human long distance barking achievement. At this time they had also established the "post" which allowed one to send lingering smells to another human but which, I am told, was only capable of sending "silent" barks. When we dogs send smells to one another we leave out the silent barks as we have no use for them. Later a Mr. Alexander Graham Bell gave humankind a contraption which sent audible barks over distances but which left out smells altogether. I can only imagine the miscommunications that must occur with such unsound principles. The internet, which appeared during the time of my grandsires, produced long distance barks which were both smell and sound free. While I have stooped certain instances of this methodology, such developments not only make me lament the general direction humanity must be heading but also make me very suspicious of notions such as keeping dogs quiet and bathed. This brings me back to my original point, vis. the importance of a bark philosophy. I hold that if one can bark as far as one can smell and hear one need not ask for more--take your stand and bark well. Let me give an example of the significant activity one can accomplish with these principles. With just one well planned bark (planned, I might add, through information gathered by scent and sound) I can set the dog a few houses back into a frenzy of yaps, subsequently setting its person into a series of ignored commands for silence. One bark. Continued smug enjoyment. Just imagine the potential here. You may not think it when tacked to the end of this wordy post, but I tend to think deeply about my barks, and I deposit them carefully. That is my preference, I realize, and not a universal dog trait. I wonder, Reader, what your philosophy of barking is? It would be a great gain to my research on the topic if you would venture to share it.
Saturday, January 30, 2010
Friday, January 29, 2010
Most dogs only dream of the adventures I've had in my short life, and some dogs aren't even creative enough to do that. The twitching feet and muffled barks of their REM cycles may not extend past the squirrel chase. I love a good squirrel chase as well as the next dog, but I've seen more. Fact: I ran away and lived on my own for ten days. I passed through highways and canals, and crossed intersections and woods. Kirsten will confirm all of this, although she frequently tells me I exaggerate and add my own details whenever I tell stories about my adventures. Maybe I do get the real events mixed up a little with my dreams, but one can't blame one after a larger than life experience if she's a little hazy on the details here and there. The framework of my story is sound. At its truest it's enough to speed up your pace and draw in your breath; you'll laugh and cry and come away with graditude for a nice warm couch and someone to snuggle up with. I came away more grateful for many things: for food, for safety, for love, and for my back legs. I'm afraid they got the rough end of the adventure when they got hit by a car. Kirsten says I'll be surprised by how much they heal if I wait quietly. I don't want to wait quietly. I want to chase squirrels, herd sheep, and retrieve sticks again. Still, I am pleased by the little steps, and those are coming more and more frequently. All these things will be another story for another day though. I did tell you I was grateful for food, did I not? It wouldn't do to seem ungrateful at breakfast time, and with that I'll leave you until next time.