Buddy & Brun out and about

 Buddy & Brun waiting for food

Feeling Sad

We're very sad. Grief is hard.

Brun is very quiet. I catch him gazing into Buddy's lounge room bed several times, and from different angles. I've watched him out in the back yard as though he is looking for something. He has always had Buddy in his life from 10 weeks old. He and Buddy were mates from the moment they met. Brun is very quiet, he is not his normal self at all.

Look at the two of them, like two peas in a pad, as they say

One of the last photos of Buddy taken about a month ago

Happy Buddy

 

Buddy and I waiting for the shopping to be done. I check my instagram with my eyes glued to my screen, Buddy standing watch. He is much more social than I am. He still has undiminished belief in humanity, I don't.

Buddy says hello

Buddy Has A Sore Paw

Buddy has had a sore paw. It is an allergic thing, he gets it from time to time. It seems to be a bulldog thing, many of them seem to get it.

It is the time he gets really grumpy, as his paw swells and swells, and he gets really unhappy. If we touch it, he snarls and growls. He wouldn't bite, although it is a little disconcerting, he is just telling us that it really hurts.

We bath it twice daily, with medicated shampoo. If one of us tries it, he growls and complains, but if it is two of us holding him and bathing the paw, he becomes compliant and he doesn't complain very much.

It only lasts for a few days, the angry Buddy, the the swelling pops, and he doesn't care any more about it.

My Office. That's Fluff looking intently. She heads back to her owners this weekend. They are back from Canada.

Buddy in the bathroom, about to have a shower

Buddy and Floyd

Feeding The Dog, Action Shot

 

I liked this failed photo, as it looks like an abstract oil painting, Dog & Man

Bud was all colour and movement on the back veranda. I can just tell it is him by the patch of colour, his bulldog spot on his head.

Keen on his food, is our Bud, as you can tell by the quicker-than-the-eye run at his food bowl.

Buddy's Busy Day

Lovely Buddy

Sam wagged from his company Xmas party being held at Etihad Stadium. It was some fight to the death scenario, the company hasn't done well and it became gladiatorial with the execs hunting the employees down with spears, or, at least, I think that's why he said he didn't want to go, so he had the afternoon off. Instead, he sent me photos of Buddy being uncooperative during his Xmas dress rehearsal. He doesn't look as though he likes it to me. Last year, he wore his head piece with no objections. Maybe this year, the head piece is heavier? Maybe it is the bells? (snigger) Maybe he is just older and more settled and no longer up for our nonsense.

Walking in the Park

I always pick up Buddy's pooh when I am out walking him. Always. I don't really see the point of it, to tell you the truth, but I always do it because that is what you are supposed to do. 

This morning, I walked Sam to the Carlton Gardens, it is a lovely walk first thing in the morning. On the way back, as Buddy pissed on a tree, he also had a big diarrhoea squirt across the grass, which is kind of unusual for him. I looked at it and contemplated what I could do, fingering the pooh bags in my pocket? Maybe, if I had a sponge, or a hose, I thought? Deciding that, really, there was no way that I could pick it up, I proceeded to walk away. 

A fat lady in a tweed coat and a granny perm was walking passed. She pursed her lips and audibly tutt tutted and said, "Really!" in her best schoolmarm voice. She pulled big eyes (until she looked like she was going to have a squirt out the rear end herself) and looked at me and then looked back at the offending pooh and then looked back at me. Then she tut tutted loudly again. 

"You're the type who gives dog owners a bad name!" she said. She shook her head as she continued walking to the church scone stall, I can only assume. 

"But, but, but..." I stumbled (I always pick it up). She looked angry. I wanted to call after her, "It's not like I just killed your first born grandchild, great grandchild," but I decided that, perhaps, that wouldn't have helped.

I'm not sure what she thought I was going to do? Get down on all fours and lick it up? Maybe, if I'd had a hose... 

Hopefully, it will rain this afternoon.

Contented Buddy

Sooky bulldog

I haven't been able to think of anything to write, for this last week, actually, since my last post, I'm not sure why? I've written something most days, but none of it has turned out to be much. So, while I am waiting for my writing mojo to return, here is a photo of Buddy asleep on my bed with me today. We spent the day in bed, me watching clips on YouTube and Buddy snoring next to me. Isn't he cute? You've gotta love YouTube, it is the easiest way to waste a day

Hello Handsome

We took Buddy to the dog park. It was a lovely sunny day. Sam and I had “played up” (if you know what I mean) on Friday night, and we needed to get out in the fresh air... for the first time… since Friday. Oh, other than that lunch but that was just Hainanese Chicken Rice and Nasi Lemak respectively. We stood there with our sunglasses on.

When we were driving home, there was a bike rider coming towards us on the wrong side of the road, on our side of the road. As I like to say, that is the problem with the world, all the idiots.

“Look at this…” and then he got a bit closer and I could see the square jaw and the stubble and the handsome face… “um… er… cutie pants.” …the piercing eyes, the olive skin, the small riding shorts, actually, I didn’t see what he was wearing, but a boy can embellish… You know, so what if he is on my side of the road, sometimes you just have to cut people some slack, moi thinks to himself. 

Terrible isn’t it, in truth, that the way someone looks affects the way others react to them. 

Well? Um? Thinking about it, I guess not for the handsome. It’s not terrible.

What do we care if the beautiful get away with a lot more than we ever can? Good for them. Is it just jealousy? Or does the intrinsic unfairness of the situation matter? Does it matter? Or should we just suck it up?

Should we really give a shit because we know one day they will lose their looks and it will be relatively hard for them to cope?

I remember travelling around southern Europe with the amazingly handsome Canadian David and being told by gay accommodation houses, “The pretty boys don’t have to pay.” I guessed that just having David around would attract other gay men to stay in the establishments? I rode in on his coat tails... ta da. 

Maybe it was just the come down? Nyr? The bike rider, the beautiful, and David? Who can say?

I smiled at Sam. He smiled at me. And none of it seemed to matter anyway.

Buddy Checking His Mail

Buddy, the cutest dog on the planet, but I might be bias