hello, seekers of the Truth! Mr Dog here. After surviving the painful ordeal of yester-evening, I am prepared to be your spiritual guru in 2013, too, and I believe the first post of the year rightly belongs to me. We need to have a serious talk about a few things. Hot air balloons is one such thing, but we’ll leave that for later.
Trust me, I know that humans aren’t exactly the most enlightened. I have no high expectations. I’ve lived with a bipedal person for years now. Quite frankly, although I’ve done my best to discipline it, I still can’t seem to put a stop to some of the unacceptable behaviours and I can’t help but feel that the lack of deeper canineosophical insights is often shocking. But I am a tolerant dog. And there are worse two-legged people. (Better too. From the perspective of a gourmet — that is, me — there certainly are better humans. Not that I eat humans, of course not. But it matters what they have in the fridge.)
Look, today I went on a short journey on the metro. (With the bipedal person. Yes, muzzled.) Once I’d entered the carriage, this man, this complete foreigner, started to stare at me and then he began to growl, without having any comprehensible message to deliver!! Don’t humans know proper behaviour? It was so embarrassing, I thought I was going to sink through the floor. As I said, I’m tolerant. Even unusually tolerant, I would say. Not to brag about it, but I wouldn’t growl at humans unless it is extremely necessary. I talk to lots of different people. But I always advise humans not to growl; it’s very unbecoming for a human. I ignored the stupid man — better not give them attention, right? — and started to chat with a nice lady instead. I like to talk with everyone, and to convince them of the truth of canineosophy. Not that I preach to them explicitly, not to the new converts, but I smile and wag my tail. I sneak into their minds; I prime them, and make them ready for higher truths another time around. I won’t go into details; these are sensitive issues. (The world is not ready yet.) But humans who growl at dogs? My spiritual insights tell me that they will come back as cats next time.
When I thought the embarrassment could not get any worse, it did. The second atrocity, which took place within minutes from the incident with the human growler, was even worse. Unbelievably enough, it was worse. I can barely describe it to you. In comes a bipedal person with a pram. Trapped in the pram is a dog. A dog. In a mobile prison, in the most embarrassing contraption a dog could possibly find himself in, aside from a cat crate. I have photographic evidence, in case you don’t believe me. There’s a DOG in there!! I’m speechless. This is the most appalling instance of anti-canineosophical activity I’ve ever witnessed, and I’ve seen a lot. Clairvoyant gazing gives me a glimpse into that particular human malefactor’s future destiny: I see a cat… in a crate. I won’t say anything more. But there are consequences, and there are karmic lessons to be learnt.
And this is only on the first day of the year. How much traumatic embarrassment will dogs have to face in 2013? I’m filled with unpleasant expectations.
Early autumn days when summer returns, sun glittering in the sea, and the approaching winter is revealed only by the position of the sun in the sky, the reddening of the blueberry bushes, the withering purple heath, the dark evenings. The sky, at night, black and star-spangled, infinitely beautiful; the Baltic sea, already wintery and ice-cold, as though it had never been summer (and, in fact, it hardly has). The darkness feels, somehow, liberating; it is soothing, too. The days in the beginning and middle of this week were such days: warm, sunny. Then, suddenly, summer left again, perhaps for good, it’s hard to tell yet. (I’m in the city now, though, and it matters less here.)
I keep watching how the appearance of the sea changes during the days — deep blue, silver, green, slate, turquoise… there are endless varieties, contingent on weather, time of day, and other factors known and unknown; the manifold ways the sea manifests hold immense fascination for me. Not so for mr Dog, who prefers to think about bunnies. And the neighbours’ cats, which he will — so he says — have for dinner. Unfortunately, he hurt his paw, which is why he looks a bit down in the dumps in the picture. He tried to make me chase the cats, and was upset at how useless I am. ‘I’m not at all sure why I ever got you!!’ he yelled. ‘You’re only a burden and don’t even have instincts enough to chase, kill and cook our food!’ I, possessing some insights, even if limited (by my limited human mind), had to admit he was basically right.
Anyway. There’s no tap water, no hot water (unless you boil it first); you have to get water from a communal pump a hundred or so meters away. That is perhaps the downside, but really, it works quite well, surprisingly well. On the other hand, you can brush your teeth on a beach while watching stars. You always have sand, gravel and dirt in your shoes, and feel like a forest troll most of the time. The world outside the cottage is black at night, and when you brush the bread crumbs off your tray you realise you brushed them off over and into your shoes. And so on. I’m trying to convince the gnomes they need to wear warning lights, so that I don’t accidentally trample them to death. The elves are much more cooperative in this regard, but they’re sort of shiny by nature, in a translucent way.
silver moonlight, coming in from the east, gently stroking the sea
The sea was unusually calm on friday afternoon. The weather, shifting between sun and rain. But much of the time, last week, the sky was heavy with rain; funny is how the fogginess makes the islands far away appear also to the eye as individual islands — separated into darker and into lighter — rather than as a solid mass of land. Everything out there is really islands (floating around in the sea, as you all know islands do)! Sometimes the areas of rain are distinctly separated, too — sun, ran, sun, rain… and you know that those who have sun will soon have rain, but from their perspective they may not yet be aware of it.
Luckily, on two nights, the clouds vanished, revealing a starry sky (one evening, I was even lucky to glimpse, from the corner of my eye — it happened so quickly! — a falling star). It’s pitch dark around 10 pm now. The amount of stars is just staggering, yet it’s too close to the city (it’s not far at all), so it isn’t exactly the genuine experience; it’s never as black as it could be, in a world without or far away from electriticity. Or so I’ve understood it. Watching the stars the other night, as the sky was without clouds above us — mr Dog was asleep already, however, dreaming of a moon made of cheese (strong cheese, to complement the deliciously barbecued cats) –, I could at the same time see lightning strike, rip the black sky apart, again and again, far away over the Baltic sea in the east. There was no sound of thunder; it was dead silent. (Apparently — I had to look it up — thunder can sometimes be heard 40 kilometers away, depending on conditions, but is usually heard 15-20 kilometers away.)
As a bonus, a few pics of the mighty mr Dog himself:
it’s mr Dog’s birthday today, his eight birthday. Which is unbearably sentimental.
I finally emptied my camera to see if I had any relatively new pictures of him at all. I didn’t (not any that were good enough, a bunch of out-of-focus ones where he looks bored with me, which is close to the truth, he was bored). So I can’t post them. (‘Yes, you can’, he says, ‘let them see what a boring bore you are!!’) This is from early this summer, on one of our walks.
So, we had ice cream today and he got some raw liver mixed in with his dinner (yummy!), but I haven’t really been up for celebrating lately.
On the camera memory card, I also found a video of mr Dog howling somewhere in central Stockholm. And what is more appropriate for a birthday celebration than a good old howl?
Mr Dog and I were in a different part of town today. On our way back, on the bus, we had a little conversation. Not an unimportant one, mind you. Every conversation is canineosophically important.
CATS?!?! Are you mad? I’m shocked! Shocked!
You meant cats for dinner? Oh, ok, that works. Barbecued. With gravy.
Having impressed people on twitter and facebook, we can’t deprive you blog readers of this listening experience.
Mr Dog and I proudly present the Yorkshire Wolf and the Canineosophical Howl from the North. Don’t be deterred by the inital blurriness and lack of focus — it gets better. Make sure the computer sound is on! Mr Dog is ready to hypnothize you and convert you all into committed canineosophists in an instance!
Because I haven’t blogged as much as usual, I thought you’d enjoy a picture of the guru, mr Dog, resting comfortably in a chair. He likes scruffy chairs. They’re good for thinking about thinking in, he says. Or just for resting in while thinking about sausages, cake and grilled cats with gravy.
I’m trying to catch up. Meanwhile:
enlightened canineosophist on the path. (Yup, it’s a perfect path. See comments to the other blog post. It’s the same path, slightly different location.)