Barking at the Birds

We were up at 6am peeking out the back door windows at Buddy to see if he was barking. There are a lot of birds here in the morning, squawking and whistling, it is a cacophony of bird song, it is quite deafening, at times. He was barking a little bit at the birds, but then he was back on his bed sleeping, so hopefully it wasn’t much more than that.

I caught site of the two of us standing together and I felt the cliché again.

I started rolling joints not long after 6am.

We took him for a walk at 8am. Just up to Brunswick Street and back, after yesterdays three quarter time refusal.

We met another couple who were walking a French Bulldog and they said how beautiful Buddy is and how they wished they had a dog like him, and I looked down and their French Bulldog and thought, but that doesn’t make sense, you could have had a dog like him, you just needed to buy one.

I wondered if there is a secret society of dog owners who continually blow smoke up each other’s arse about their dogs, because of the terrible mistakes they had since realised they had made.

It seemed like a charming tradition, despite my thoughts to the contrary, and we walked Buddy home at a brisk pace, that is one thing, with Sam hanging on to the lead it gets Captain Slow moving, when I never can.

I kept rolling joints.

He’s cute, adorable, just lovely… especially, when he is quiet. I don’t know, I should jump to any haste decisions. He is suddenly a very big personality into a quiet and ordered life. So it will either be great to brake it up, just a little, or a complete disaster, I don’t know at this stage.