Wednesday, March 29, 2017

McNab Dogs Are Just Too Polite

I don't really have a dog.  I have a shadow.

Rack is my rescue.  Actually his full name is Rack The McNab SuperDog (TM).  He told me to put that TM there.  I'm on the fence about that.

Thing is that I'll be in a room doing my thing and I notice he's watching.  The bedroom door is across from the bathroom.  His mat sits there so he can watch both.

I'll get up off my chair doing whatever it is that I do in the course of the day and wander into either room.  Do my thing, and turn around and there's a mostly black with white accents dog looking back under all seeing brown eyes.


If I happen to go into that bathroom in this little house and close the door, and I do close the door if there are other humans here as a polite man is wont to do, Rack will make his presence known.

He's worried that I may Fall In.  I hear paws on the tiles. Walking.  Pacing.  Back and forth.  Too long sequestered, I have heard some gentle little whining at the door.


This particular day was a very active one.  My normal routine was a bit upset.  You see my elbow got hurt.  If you have a foam mattress you may find yourself in the same position.  In my case, I was in a bowl.  Sleeping on that foam mattress, I found myself sinking down into it slowly until when I wake.  My elbow was hyper-extended by sinking so I will try to re-position.  Back to sleep.  Elbow wakes me up in pain again.  It got to the point where my elbows were both in pain all day.

I went to get a new mattress.  It was not an option, but a requirement.

I put this new one on the bed and flattened it out.

Mind you I am a very creative person.  I realized that inside the old mattress was one inch of memory foam and another five or so inches of upholstery foam.  I started carving it into shapes for future pillows and so forth filling the master bedroom with oblongs and rectangular shapes, odd specks of foam hitting the floor and bouncing over the distance to land near Rack's nose.

Yes, he came in and was busy watching me make a mess of things.

I realized it.  He was doing his job.

He also has a bed.  That bed needs to be replaced a good six or seven times over.  Sure, he has mats that I can toss in the washer on Hot Wash Day to kill whatever is inside, but he prefers this slightly bowl shaped contraption that is a hand-me-down from a long since moved away neighbor who insisted that Rack would like it.

I got the bright idea to take some of the smaller scraps and filled the dog bed with it.  Eventually he will learn to like it as he melts over the side in a position that only a Bendy McNab Dog would enjoy.  Never complaining, melting over the side like a Salvador Dali painting of an impossible clock, he would find a new position.

All the while I was breaking the one cardinal rule of having a herding dog.  I was changing routine.  Listening to a radio station called 4TO in Townsville, Australia for their coverage of Cyclone Debbie, they sounded the hour.  I looked at the clock here and realized that it was already Noon.

Lunch would be late.  I had to make a pot of rice and warm the curry.

Putting the rice cooker back on, I looked around and realized that he had moved into the kitchen and was watching for some food. 

"Sorry Rack, chicken makes you sick and this curry has onion in it."

I got a disappointed look and he circled around to lay down, Sphinx-like from the little hallway.

Once the rice was on, I asked "What is it, Rack?  Show me!  Show me what you want!"

Nose in the air, I responded "Sorry, boy not for dogs.  How about something else.  Come here!"

Gently, he padded across the tiles on his cat like feet and wagged his tail at me.  I bent down to his ear and whispered the magic word:  "Yogurt."

Got a solid wag there.  Never a bark, those are reserved for the intruders like UPS Guys and those rather insistent Duck that roam the yard.  I started to pour out the yogurt, he was going to get a treat...

OOPS!  A solid pint of home made plain yogurt?  This should be interesting.

I set him back on his way.  He downed the yogurt as I went back to stuffing his bed.

The rice cooker, later, snapped to the finished position.  I put the curried chicken on top and sat down at the little rolling table.  Rack was well tall enough to be able to bend down to eat right off that plate, but no, he got a conversation instead.

"Rack, you know this is chicken and onion!  Curry is too spicy for you.  Not for dogs, I'm sorry".

I got the most plaintive look back from him. 

"Rack it will turn you into a soft serve dispenser.  Let's not have any of this here."

Sad expectant look walked away slowly.  I was able to finish the plate of Chicken and Chick Peas, Onions, Sauce, Peanuts and Rice without an issue.


Of course he was.  That's his job.  Me.

If anyone tells you that you can't have a McNab dog in the city, just tell them that they simply need a job.  You can be their job.  Best job a dog ever had.

Oh!  And as for the beds?  Both are fine.  My new one helped my elbows out greatly, it's amazing what a good mattress will do for your back too!  Rack is still on the fence about it, but I took a giant cartoonish kitchen knife and cut the foam inserts I made down to one half thickness.  He's on the bed now.

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