My dog and me

They may be old, tired and worn ( just like me) but the expression, adage or saying; call it what you will,  about being either a 'Cat' person or a 'Dog' person holds true, I sincerely believe this.

And I'm a dog person, always have been and I suppose at my age it's impossible to change even if I wanted to. I don't mind cats, we even had one once when I was a boy, black as the 'Ace of Spades' he was and his name was Nigger. Back in the late 1930's early 40's this name was quite common and acceptable for a black pet.

Nigger was a good cat and great mouser and when the war started the ARP had a station in the junior school grounds just up the road from where we lived, and they were overrun with mice apparently. So to help the war effort we let them have our cat

.

Trouble was the ARP men and I suppose women too, didn't believe in giving any food to Nigger he had to live on what he could scavenge by way of mice or whatever else he could catch. Whether they ever gave him any milk or not I don't know but I remember them giving Nigger back to us and he was in very poor shape emaciated scrawny and on his dying legs.

We never had another cat.

As you know I have a dog named Coco; (I'd never have called him that but that was his name when we rescued him a couple of years back) and I love him to bits.

He likes to sleep in his little bed in a nook in our bedroom, he likes his bed and I take it with us and plonk it down close to where I am, (although he's not too keen having it out in the garden). At this moment he is curled up in a ball close by, one eye watching me and obviously wondering when I'm going to have breakfast and if he's going to get any; he's very fond of the food I eat.

I particularly enjoy the early mornings. I'm an early riser and this suits Coco. Before my feet are in my slippers he's up and having his languid stretch and waiting at the bedroom door.

He's very good at this time and lets me know I'm the master by standing back and letting me leave the room first, I get this privilege once a day; from then on he's the boss.

Actually the reason he is deferential to me at this time is because he's hungry and wants his breakfast, so as a dutiful master I feed him and then wait quietly on his sofa while he eats. When finished Coco comes over for his quality time No 1 of the day I give him a rough rub which he loves and then we retire to the garden so that he can check that his territory is in order and to , (as Kate Shrewsday so delightfully put it when describing her dog Macaulay's toiletry habits), dump some ballast.

Tour of inspection finished it's time for Coco to have a nap, he enjoys napping and does it at every opportunity. He also likes to play with his toys, bark, chase birds, catch little lizards, (just for a snack mind) he also likes to eat and does so every chance he gets.

And he watches over me constantly.

After all his needs have been attended I then like to take my shower and get cleaned up before I have my breakfast. Now Coco doesn't like me to shut a door and close him out so I leave the bathroom door open  a few centimetres and he will lie down across the doorway and snooze.

However, if he feels I'm taking too long  he pushes the door open and comes into the bathroom to check me out. If I happen to be under the shower, still, then he looks at me in amazement, I think he wonders why I'd do anything as silly as standing in the rain. He hates the rain.

He may if the mood takes him then sit and watch me complete my ablutions then again he's more than likely to push the door wide open and depart.

I'm glad the War Office is a heavy sleeper, and that I'm a dog lover.