Happy Monday! I would like to introduce you to our guest blogger today. Her name is Maggie and I have had the pleasure and pain of knowing her for seven years now and I hope for sooo many more. Take it away Maggie!
My name is Maggie, Mag-pie, Mag-Zilla, Maggie-moo, Mogwai, and Doofus. But, I respond quickest to “Good Girl” and, my favorite, “Treats”.
I am, currently, the security and entertainment for two hoomanz. One is known as “Hey Babe” and the other, “Woman.” Odd names for pets but I did not get to choose. They came with names and I thought it an easier transition to keep them. We, me and my friend Bindi, spend most of our time with the one known as Woman.
I am known as the Greatest of Danes and ruler of my territory. I have trained my hoomanz well, but they still need work. I rest on the fact that I have come to love them so I forgive many of their missteps. For example, there is a very aromatic watering bowl in a cave they call the “bafroom” that they insist on covering with a rock I have not yet been able to move. Why would you cover a watering hole? Are they greedy with the aromatics that come from this water?
The one known as “Woman” enjoys taking me and my cohort, Bindi, into this bafroom and placing us in a large basin that fills with water far too warm to drink. Odd, yes, but quite enjoyable once Woman begins rubbing my backside. Lovely. I have been known to sit in this basin as a way of telling Woman that I want my hindquarters rubbed. Woman has yet to master my language, but she is learning, slowly.
Again, Hey Babe and Woman have covered another delicious smelling hole. It is in the room where mass quantities of food are kept and the best smells come from a small container that the hoomanz have covered. They tie it up in a bag and every few darks take it to the out and never bring it back. Where are they taking the smells and why can’t I, and Bindi, have any? I do not understand hoomanz. They are enjoyable as pets, but sometimes…GRRRRRRRR!
Now, there is one place that Bindi and disagree on often. She loves this place and I only go there when absolutely necessary. It is called the “out” and, my friend, Bindi, cannot get enough of the out. She deems it necessary to guard what the hoomanz call the “gate”. She is the gate guard. I do not understand this, nor do I want too. It appears to require large amounts of running and watching and more running. No thank you. As far as I am concerned, there is only one reason for the out and it doesn’t require running. There is far too much effort needed to just go to the out. I must get up from my very comfortable nest of soft things that has taken me time to collect. There is scratching and piling and moving involved in my nest’s creation. Do you know how long it takes to rake and fluff to my exact needs? Of course, you don’t, but it takes forever. I counted. It takes forever!
The only good to come from the out is, well, there are two things. One you already know and I will not discuss it in mixed company. Hoomanz do not need to learn such language. Now, the second reason is to sing for my kind. I must release the ancient language I hold deep inside. I sing long and strong for those on the other side of the gate. Sometimes they sing back, but not in the same base tones as I. I fear my kind may be lost to these tiny ones. They are so small that my, as Woman calls it, number two is bigger than these tiny canines. I have yet to see a Greatest of Danes as myself. There is a tribe of Chiwawa’s nearby. What an odd name for a tribe and there is a lonely Pit-Bull that I sing too often. She is my friend. I still do not understand why the out is so great. There are no pillows in the out or a couch. It can be heavy panting hot or pad freezing cold. The worst is when the wet falls from the up. I don’t like the wet. It’s not like the bafroom wet. No, this is shiver shake cold not warm like Woman prepares and no butt rub. Nope, not a fan of the out.
I have been without sleep for nearly forever. I must fluff my nest now and chase the furry things that run around behind my eyelids. I have yet to catch one, but I will continue to try in the comfort of my soft place.
Be kind to hoomanz. They need kindness…and cookies. Give your hoomanz cookies.
And as Woman says…
Find joy. Be joy. Enjoy.
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