Thursday 1 January 2009

Happy New Year

Hello,
Christmas was ok. I was unsettled in myself. I don't know why, but I think I missed Mom. Portmouth was good. I like seeing my Dads family. They're very nice to me and I love playing with the little people and love the walks by the sea, but I miss Mom.
Dad lives in the country now not too far from Whitstable. I don't really like it there. I like the seaside. Dad takes me out for walks but I just want to go back home again. I hate the gun shots. There's always gunshots in the country. They make me nervous and there's no beach, no pebbles and no long grass to play hide and seek in. I love my Dad, but I am always happy to get home.
Dad dropped me home after Christmas. Mom wasn't there. He dropped me in the door and patted me and went on his way. The house was quiet, but I knew Mom would come home soon. I went into the kitchen and had a drink of water and ate some food, that she had left for me in my bowl. Then I went and sat in the window, did some people watching and waited for Mom to come home.
A while later, Mom's car pulled up. I always know when she's coming home, because I know the the sound of her car. Mom always waves at me from inside the car and I get very excited. I wag my tail and my bum a lot and I can't stop myself. This time though, I fell off the back of the sofa between the window and the sofa. I got a bit of a shock. I got over over excited and slipped but I didn't hurt myself. When Mom came in the door, I ran to her and jumped all over her and gave her lots of kisses. I was so happy to see her and so excited, because I knew where she was going to take me, as soon as she was ready. The Slopes, Yahoo! Mom always takes me to the slopes, when I get home from a holiday. It's awesome really. On the way there in the car, I can't sit still at all. I jump from the back of the car, into the front seat and then from the front seat into the back again. I just can't wait to get there. And then I go mental on the slopes and Mom laughs a lot at me because I go so mental. I just want to do everything all at once. And I do. She does everything with me. Pebble throwing, ball throwing, running through the long grass and most of all, another favourite game of mine, Round The Mound.
Mom names it that, because it's a little hill on the slopes. When we get to Round The Mound, I run and I hide at the very top of it, behind some long grass. I peek out, just popping my head above the long grass. Mom pretends to throw a stone and then I run round the mound up into the slopes and back again. Then we do the same again, until I'm out of breath. Sometimes I run round the mound, down onto the beach and run straight into the sea for a swim and a drink. Mom tells me not to drink the sea water but I can't help it. I then run back up into the slopes, behind the mound and we do it all over again, about a zillion times. Mostly until Mom's arm starts to fall off or until she's exhausted too.
When I got back the other day we went and played Round The Mound. I had a great time and felt very happy to be home. When we got back home, we had lunch together and then I had a super sleep on our new sofa. I'm not supposed to really get on the new sofa but Mom puts my blanket on there so I can get on it. Mom's cool!

1 comment:

Throg Niemand said...

This is a comment on the blog as a whole so far.

I'm surprised at the bitter-sweet tone, which adds an unexpected depth to the story. Lizzie's naive voice adds a strange poignancy. I am intrigued to see if and how her understanding develops, and how her Mum and the others in her life develop through her eyes.

Will Lizzy as a dog develop her own theories as to why her Mum sometimes cries? Will they be at all like the theories we come up with? She seems like a thinking dog (in between backflips) but do theoretical perspectives have any meaning to even thoughtful dogs.

You might (or might not) find it interesting to read up on "theory of mind", as it relates to animals in general and dogs in particular.

I look forward to reading more, and hope Lizzie doesn't have too many tears to lick in the future.