The Diary of a Confused Dog by Susan Mellsopp
Something had been up all week. On a freezing cold yet sunny Monday morning I was given a shampoo and set. Expected to lie in the sun on the damp lawn, or on my outside bed to dry off, I was incensed at Susan’s attitude towards me. Barking constantly as loudly as I could manage, knowing I am not meant to, I pawed at the ranch slider. My anger increased as she refused to let me inside.
Eventually, perhaps she was afraid the neighbours might think I was being abused, she relented. Furious, I decided to shake over all the newly cleaned kitchen cabinets. Serves her right. Rather than lying on a couple of my rugs as I was firmly told to do, I left wet patches all over the carpet as I moved to follow the sun’s rays. Finally dry by dinner time, my coat is extremely thick, sleeping under the heat pump seemed a good alternative to lying on my bed in the cold room.
Next morning we went to the dentist. He is a nice kind man, but I have seen a lot of him lately. Being tied to a chair while he does something to Susan’s teeth is no fun, it’s getting rather boring. A visit to the clothes shop was next, this was turning out the be a busy day. The very silly lady asked if Susan had her car parked nearby as her bag of shopping was quite large. “Really” she said, with an edge to her voice, “you have been talking about my guide dog and then you think I drive!” I smirked and guided Susan out of the shop chuckling.
Home in time for a nice nana nap, suddenly I was harnessed up again for an appointment at the doctor. We had to wait an interminably long time, almost an hour, but eventually I got to see my GP. She virtually ignored me, not sure what I have done, usually she talks to me as she steps over my legs to take Susan’s blood pressure.
Wednesday morning was cold again. Susan took that grey suitcase out of the wardrobe and put it on the floor near my bed. “Leave” was the command, so I did as I was told. We have only been on holiday once together, and I remember this grey case had food, treats, a bowl and a rug for me inside it. Susan started by packing a large, very large, number of plastic bags. I began to wonder how often I was meant to go.
She slowly filled the suitcase; oh yes, my food, some clothes for her, spare airline tickets, shoes, it looks like we are going on another exciting adventure. Later in the day my big sister arrived, she had a suitcase too, a purple one. In went the new clothes Susan had bought for her, we must all be going somewhere interesting.
Thursday morning was quiet, and I had butterflies in my tummy. I couldn’t sit still and kept scratching my ears and putting my head on people’s knees. Susan kept making me go to the toilet, I became quite confused at how often she expected me to perform. Even my sister tried to make me go. After lunch Susan’s friend arrived and joy of joys, our suitcases and warm winter coats were packed into the car. Perhaps we are all going somewhere together. I tried to see out the window as we went down the expressway, but didn’t notice the sign saying this way to the airport. When we turned in a wide drive and I saw the Heliport I realised where we were, how fabulous! Susan then told me we were going to Wellington. I love flying because I get extra treats when the plane goes in to land, and ‘my staff’ are always coming to check on me.
Wagging my tail enthusiastically and looking around at the sights of the airport, especially the tarmac, we traipsed inside with our bags and walked towards the check in counter. I was so excited I was leaping and bounding along. Then an airline staff member came rushing over. I began to feel like royalty, they must be going to give me an upgrade, I am definitely an important guide dog today.
“We have been trying to ring you” she told Susan, who said “I put my phone on airline mode at home so I would not forget when I got here.” My heart sank as we both looked quizzically at the lady. “Your flight has been cancelled, due to an engineering fault.” What! My first holiday in years and now you are telling me I can’t go. Come on, that’s not fair. I absolutely need to go to Wellington, get your act together and bring me a private jet.
Much discussion was held among the humans about flying us to Christchurch and then back to Wellington, but Susan knew despite all my toileting trips that might be too much for me. Anyway, we would have been far too late for the IHC Art Awards 20th Anniversary event. I was going to miss talking to all those important people, including that Dame Susan knows. Tears rolled down my sister’s cheeks and Susan became very tense. Resigned to the fact I would not be going anywhere I flopped down on the carpet and waited. I was so disappointed I could not even wag my tail.
“Let’s go home” said Susan sadly, “there is nothing we can do about this.” Mumbling about others doing our late bookings and taking time risks, we decided to hire a taxi as our private chauffeur had long gone. Taxi travel is awkward for me. Last time I went in a taxi the driver complained about me constantly and drove us home a very long way around. I looked back longingly, but there was definitely no plane sitting on the tarmac and everyone was telling me the truth. Other people arriving to check in were now returning to their cars with very long sad faces. Perhaps they were going to the art awards too.
My sister decided to go home to her house. I was very sad she didn’t want to spend another night with me, and would let me wake her up with licks and nose rubs – hmm, obviously not. I did try to get out at her place, but I was forcefully restrained.
No one seemed to notice us arriving home less than an hour after we left, I must be invisible. Putting my tail between my legs as I tried to avoid being crushed by that expensive grey suitcase, it was soon dropped just inside our front door.
Susan rang a couple of people who had been so excited about our trip and were now rightly confused. “Why are you ringing from a plane?” Explaining what had happened their disappointment was almost as devastating as mine. Our original chauffeur eventually answered her phone and promptly said, “let’s go out for coffee then.”
Still very confused and uncertain about what was happening, I kept looking at the door hoping we were going back to the airport. I followed Susan everywhere, and yes, I went to the toilet yet again! Must be nerves. I tried my bed, sat on her feet, and hoped by looking very mournful we might, just might, still be able to get on that plane. We seldom go out of Hamilton, I am actually sick of never going anywhere, now my dreams have been stymied by a real or imagined mechanical fault.
The mall was warm, as was the hot chocolate. All I got were some crumbs the previous resident of the table had dropped. My mind was racing and I couldn’t sit still. I stood up, moved around, tried to attract the attention of a little girl nearby, nothing worked. I wondered if I had been too naughty and the pilot had refused to take me on his plane, or perhaps he just didn’t like dogs. I looked longingly at Susan for an answer. This week had become very strange.
We had been expecting to have a posh dinner at the hotel after the art awards. I had been informed I was not allowed to choose something from the menu, dry food for me again. What did Susan have instead? We walked down later and bought fish and chips. I had just a few chips because I have been so good. They are not a suitable food for my waistline. Somehow in her absentmindedness Susan had ordered for two, but the second helping of this delicious meal disappeared quickly into the fridge. Oh well, maybe next time.
It was now Friday, and I was not in Wellington living it up in a hotel with a rain shower. I had no interest in my daily routine, mooching around listening to Susan complain about our missed short break. All the planes flew the next day as this very important passenger who flies for free lay under the heat pump sliding into a travel deprived depression. I missed talking to all the artists, the Dame, and the fun of flying up in the clouds.
I am exhausted, now I do need a holiday. On the plus side – I am very clean, brushed, and toileted for life.
