Friday, March 13, 2015

Rack's Dad's a Soft Touch

Just before you left you said it.

"Dad's a Soft Touch".

"No, I'm not!"

You sure are.

I guess I'm starting to break the dog.  Well, not break but "break".

I was waiting for the house to empty.  I wanted to put on the headphones.  Music had stopped on the iPod, there was a queue to start up rolling.  I was going to listen to "Something Different", although someone who listens to music regularly in four languages, in eras stretching back over the last 100 years, and on every one of the populated continents, it's difficult to tell what "Different" really is.

I settled on one of my old favorites.  I had a cache of music I was listening to from a West African group called Loketo in Mostly French as well as a smattering of local languages.  Guitar, but not like what most Americans have heard unless you took a liking to World Music back in the 90s.  Absolutely pure tones in rapid fire contra-puntal form.  Think Bach four or five times removed done by a group of people out to have a lot of fun dancing in the Congolese sun.

I grabbed my noise limiting headphones, a pair of "courtesy headphones" from a computer mounted inside of some "Hearing Protectors" from a gun range, and walked outside with the trash and recycling.  They look like I'm up to no good so wearing them outside will give me "Looks".

While Diblo Dibala was doing his African Speed Guitar act and the background group was singing "Dancez! Dancez! Dancez-la!" I bounded out of the house and bounced down the driveway and back in.

It was time for the last course.  Rack was sitting at the entry of the kitchen staring at the counter when I returned.  I had left a hard boiled egg, peeled, in a bowl there.  Adding to it a bit of Mayo, I made up a light egg salad and realized I forgot the curry and onion as I bit down.

Rack continued to stare.

This is a big change from the dog that I had to feed by hand, one piece of kibble at a time.  We tried the Feed-and-remove bit and decided that was unnecessarily cruel.  I pieced together what was wrong and got the Vet to confirm that he's missing a tooth which means hard food is painful.  His food now gets soaked soft.

He's even begging for some of the stuff now.

Which I guess I started.

Laughing at him as I wolfed down my breakfast sandwich, I looked at the bowl.  It was coated with sunshine yellow egg.

Shrugging, I walked him out to the living room.  Velcro Dog was glued to my right calf muscle.

He sat down in the middle of the room, I was being stared through with brown laser beams as the background group singing in my ears was chanting in French "Ou Yea, Ou Yah!".

Oh here, you earned it, it might put some weight on you!

"Dancez!  Dancez-La!"  "Bolingo! Bailondo!"

Rack proceeded to lick the shine off the bowl.  Yes, I was in proud possession of a CBD Bowl by the time he was done.

After all, who needs to pre-wash the dishes before the dishwasher?  CBD - Cleaned By Dog!

I'll get that dish now that you're done.

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