Disappointing Dogs…


By this I don’t mean that I find dogs disappointing – far from it. Although I really am a “cat person” we have always had dogs, when I was growing up, and my mother still has dogs now. They are family to me – I learned to walk holding on to our rescue greyhound, Gypsy, and a succession of German Shepherds have been sister dogs and companions to me.My older son doesn’t get this… it annoys him if the dogs look at him while we’re eating; whereas to me, sharing my food with animals is second nature…I am often to be found eating my lunch with one cat on my knee and Ting reaching out a long brown arm in an attempt to swipe something. If I am having dinner at my mother’s and Erin sighs at me and says “Nom-noms!” how am I supposed to resist?


Alex, my younger son, has a similar affinity with animals. Some of my fondest memories involve visiting petting zoos etc. with both my sons – Alex would engage directly with all the animals, talking to them, touching them, my older son was nearly eaten by a goat and refused to participate.

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My mother’s dog Rowan was a great playmate for Alex, he would take his toys outside to play and explain the long and complicated game to her. She gave every appearance of both listening and being interested. Alex loves our canine family members too and they sense this and respond – when he came home at Christmas, Rocky was so pleased to see him he jumped straight over the four foot high garden gate and into his arms.29391434_216583372420411_1549045352_o

Likewise, my sister, who has three dogs of her own, two crossbreeds and a bulldog – they adore Alex. When we visit, the room is full of waving tails, grinning jaws and panting breath.


Then. And then. Then comes the disappointment. Alex returns to university. It’s just me. I go to visit my sister – the dogs are crowding at the door, panting and eager:

“Where is he? Where’s the fun one? Where’s the boy? Where … oh. It’s you. Just you.”

They look at me, having first looked behind me to ascertain that Alex isn’t hiding behind me… under my coat or in my bag… just in case he isn’t somehow immediately visible. Or perhaps delayed. I am subjected to a cursory sniff and a polite wag of the tail, then they return to their beds, disappointment evident in every line of their body.

“Yeah… just her then.”

“She’s boring – she screams when I snot on her…”

“I know – she doesn’t like muddy paw prints either…”

You get the idea.

So, leaving one set of disappointed dogs, I carry on down to my mother’s, mentally preparing myself to fail the next lot of canine expectations. My mother’s dogs hear the garden gate and they’re up at the windowsill, smiling and smearing their noses on the glass – I can hear my mother –

“Get off the bloody curtains!”

And then they see me. Just me. The tail wagging decreases a gear, the grins are slightly less frantic…

“Oh. Just her then.”

“Oh no! Oh no. The boy’s gone! But I love him!”

This from Rocky. I open the door and am quickly nose-frisked –

“Nope, she’s seen her sister, but no boy…”

I am subjected to the same inspection:

“No, he’s not behind her… check her bag… not in the hallway..”

Rocky and Erin resume their previous activities. I am left feeling distinctly lacking in dog -worthiness.

I cheer up at the thought of going home, having spent an afternoon disappointing dogs. Surely the cats will be pleased to see me… won’t they?

“Ohh… back so soon?”

18 thoughts on “Disappointing Dogs…

  1. Oh dear Samantha, I can almost see the view and feelings… But how nice the relation between dogs and your son… When my son moved to Baku, our Princess (cat) were not same as before with him. But I know cats and dogs are different… Do they forget or was she angry with my son that he left us… 🙂
    Thank you dear Samantha, have a nice day and weekend, Love, nia

    Liked by 1 person

  2. With you all the way Samantha. 😀
    Know the feelings – even with one of my own cats Alf Capone. He worships and adores my Son-in-law, and will appear from nowhere the moment he hears SiLs voice. After that, he’s all over him like a rash. Where-as when I come home from anywhere, he simply lifts his head and twiddles his ears & mentally says “Oh, hello. You’re back then.” yaaawwwn. And that’s it. The total sum of his love.

    Ahh, but Maisie Dotes, the pretty little girl with the most incredible way of loving me with her eyes . . . she LOVES her mummy, and clambers all over me, looks deep into my eyes from two inches away, and wants to be be loved and cuddled until she decides that she wants to be babied – and she throws herself sideways into the crook of my arm and ‘meeeews’ gently, and wants me to rock her, just like you’d gently jiggle a baby to send it to sleep.

    Ahh… love these babies, and wouldn’t be without them.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Ting is like that too, I often feel that if I could adapt a baby sling for a comfy cat fit she would be quite happy to be carried around with me all day. The others are more independent, but even so, when I’m at home I generally have at least two cats observing/helping/advising/getting in the way with whatever I am doing! 🙂 xxx

      Liked by 1 person

  3. Such a lovely share. Alex is really a good lad. Dogs are never wrong and he is the fun one to them as you don’t romp with the mutts. Your cats love you and that is great as you are gentle with them🍵🍵🍩🥞Tea time…afternoon tea for you?😚

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  4. LOL, well at least my mom’s cat was always happy to see me! (It’s because I’d spend the rest of the evening lavishing attention and pitpats on her.) And, goodness, I’ve been catching up with everyone’s posts and just read your next two posts about Charlie and Alex … and commented on my childhood experiences being butted by goats in petting zoos. Then I read this one! (I do love goats, though, especially the mini variety.)


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