So I phoned my dog on Saturday afternoon. Ok, ok, strictly speaking The Mother and The Sister went to visit Siska at the scene of her incarceration and phoned me and let me chat to her over the speakerphone. So I talked to my dog on Saturday afternoon.
Me: Siskey! Siskey! Baby girl! Googoo gahgah!
Siska: [thinks] What's the buzzing?
Me: [getting frantic, the dog has forgotten me!] Siskey! Baby! Siskey! [whistles loudly]
Siska: [puzzled] Hiking lady?
Me: [relief] Yes!
Siska: [still puzzled] Where are you Hiking Lady? Lady-who-owns-the-handbag-full-of-sausage-roll-dog-treats and Lady-who-smells-of-baby-powder are both here but I don't see you.
Me: Well, I am rather far away. I'm talking to you over the cellphone. You know, the boxy thing that looks like a toy but isn't.
Siska: Ohhhhh
Me: So, how are you?
Siska: Same old, same old. When you've been on the inside as long as I have...
Me: Yes, about that...
Siska: You lied.
Me: Well, it wasn't a lie exactly...
Siska: You lied.
Me: You exaggerate.
Siska: [does remarkable subliminal imitation of Liz's gooey Siska voice] What a good girl you are! You deserve a holiday. Yes you do, yes you do. And because you're a special doggy who deserves a holiday I'm sending you away on an all expenses paid trip to the Ryslip Hotel and Country Club. Five star accomodation, meals, hiking trails, new toys, tons of food.
Me: [defensively] You get fed!
Siska: You lied. You put me in a wooden box and the next thing I know I'm being unloaded at the "hotel", except its labelled quarantine facility! And the people talk funny! [wails] They called me fat!
Me: Calm down...
Siska: You lied.
Me: Ok, ok so I lied. It was for your own good. And you can't tell me you're not having a good time.
Siska: [sniffs] I guess not.
Me: [patiently] How's Squeak?
Siska: He's all right. He likes it here and he has a new friend. Lady-who-owns-the-handbag-full-of-sausage-roll-dog-treats brought a new one. She keeps saying he's orange. Could you tell her I'm colour-blind? But he's very nifty. And I have my bone, and my balls, and my rope and my bed and everybody loves me here.
Me: Way to be modest, Siskey.
Siska: It's not my fault I'm beautiful. Lady-who-owns-the-handbag-full-of-sausage-roll-dog-treats, Lady-who-smells-of-baby-powder, Man-who-likes-to-terrorise-me and Other-man-who-looks-at-them-all-like-they're-mad tell me so all the time.
Me: [mutters] We've created a monster.
Siska: There are dogs here, you know.
Me: Really? At a kennel? How odd.
Siska: I've never been a dog person.
Me: Strange that.
Siska: They're very loud.
Me: So shout back.
Siska: Oh, I do. The book club is great. Then there's the music forum. And a Toys We have Loved retrospective. We have a debate every day...
Me: [interrupts] A debate? You're a bunch of dogs. What could you possibly have opinions on?
Siska: [huffily] Excuse me, we are a bunch of dogs from all over the world. We discuss lots of stuff. Lots of important stuff.
Me: Like?
Siska: Uh...we discussed what kind of cat George W Bush is like. Why vacuum cleaners are scary. Whether retrieving sticks makes us smart or makes us slaves. Begging: the ends justify the means. Stuff.
Me: Who's a clever girl?
Siska: [smugly] Oh, stop.
Me: I have to go. I'm sorry I lied.
Siska: That's all right. I really like it here. It's better than the big farm in the sky.
Me: Ok, go get Squeak!
Siska: [...]
PATTOTE: Better living through black labradors with toys on the brain.
5 comments:
Funny funny funny. You always did have that theory about Siska reading all your books while you went to work.
See! It wasn't my imagination! I knew that fur got into my Jane Austen's somehow.
So when are you coming over then? I know you told me, but you know what my brain is like for details. Its a, erm thing with holes in it. erm... sock?
Brilliant I'll take a copy to the lady in question
The current plan is late April early May next year. Well, when I say that's the current plan I mean I've told my boss I'm quitting then so I'd better leave the country then or else.
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