By Fleur Lind
Warwick & Stanthorpe Today is featuring contributions from the Rose City Writers Group – this week FLEUR LIND shares her latest work…
For some unfathomable reason, Mum is in a grump with me.
It seems I have been demoted from my ranking of totally cute and am now sliding down the slippery pole of popularity, to a new title.
My name is Lulu, but lately I have been called a variety of far less favourable names.
I have also noticed some changes in Mum’s tone, and being referred to as ‘that’, as she points an accusing finger at me, or even worse, ‘that thing’.
What??
My loving looks aren’t working, my watery eyes, I’ve even fluttered my long eyelashes as her, but it didn’t work. I’m at a complete loss why I’m out of favour.
To try and work this out and console my hurt pride, I have written a list of what I do well and what I do amazingly well. I can’t think of anything I do wrong.
Starting at the top, I think it’s more than fair to say, I am adorable.
Dumbing it down in my defence, I have a demeanor that melts hearts. My appearance has been known to uncross the wires of the most-cross, grumpy person I meet.
You like your messy/scruffy-bun hair, seems to me the scruffier the better. Well I do scruffy too. I don’t mean to brag, but I invented it.
I make my admirers go all gooey. It’s what I do. I can’t help it. I’m welcoming, excitable, loving and playful. I’m not boasting, but I generally make people happy with my cuteness.
I have a partner in crime, as it were. Ben is about ten times bigger than me, that might be an exaggeration, but he’s big and I’m not. I’m a Silky/Maltese/Jack Russell, he’s a collie/blue heeler, a big gentle giant. So, while I run around frantically, he is running but pacing himself calmly. As for our vocals, Ben is loud and bassy, while I am more soprano. I think we ‘harmonise’ well.
The next door neighbours, Wilson and his sidekick Tayla, also like to put their 20 cents worth in when a leaf drops, or a car goes by, a car door shuts, or another leaf falls to the ground. It’s all news to be enthusiastically shared in the neighbourhood. Wilson and Tayla join in the chorus; they seem to blend in with us very well. If there were such a thing, we would enter a talent show for our canine kind. I have a feeling we would win, paws down.
So, with my excitable view on life and everyday things that would no doubt be monotonous to anyone else who hasn’t the breeding of my associates and I, our end of the street can get a bit raucous. We three amigos share joie de vivre that is unparalleled.
I am about halfway down my list of what I do well and what I do brilliantly, and still there is no change in Mum. She puts a finger in each of her ears and pulls a face when Ben and I are about to reach our crescendo. She yells something at us in a very growly tone, sometimes she throws one of her old slippers in my direction. I am never harmed by this gesture, as her aim is always off, and I’m too quick and dart out of the way.
When visitors come to call, they can hear Mum yelling at us before she reaches the front door. Can we help it if we have super-power hearing and we can hear a car turn a corner a block away? Does Superman have these problems when he is hovering high above the earth, his red cape floating gracefully in the stillness of space, as he listens for signs of alarm or danger? Do any nearby space shuttles or random aliens that are just passing through our orbit on their way to another galaxy, ever growl at him? Even if he isn’t blessed with pitch-perfect vocals like us, he can still hear a pin drop in Pittsworth!
So now, my mission is to sweeten up Mum. Mother’s Day is long gone, but Christmas is around the corner. I thought if I saved one of my bones and buried it, letting it percolate with the bug life beneath the grass or in the vegetable patch, I could deliver it on the kitchen floor for Christmas morning. It would have a nice woody, earthy taste with the dirt sticking to it, making it even more delicious.
I will have to check with Ben, I’m sure he will also have a master plan to keep my Mum happy. Ben visits daily for respite while his owner goes to work, so I must brief him each morning on the latest scoop. He goes home after a day with me and Wilson and Tayla. It’s a busy life.
And as the sun sets, Mum is having a cup of tea while she cooks dinner. I’m back inside on my best behaviour, selecting a toy to chew on from my basket. After a day of chasing anything that does or doesn’t move, and voicing my opinion, pleasure or displeasure in my soprano tones, having many discussions and singalongs with my associates, it’s time to reflect on the day.
Mum is happy for now, but how long that will last is anyone’s guess. However one thing is sure, there will be no more old slippers being hurled tomorrow… I’ve hidden them. One’s buried next to the snapdragons and the other is under the house in an old box.
Maybe I’ll give them back at Christmas as a ‘side’ with the bone. With a card that says, ‘From Lulu, with Love’. I’ll be out of the doghouse and back in the good books!
