The Builder’s Dog in his Hi-Vis coat was wary when he entered Will’s place. Were those Chihuahuas around? Nor scent nor sound nor scratch marks on the gate. All was well, except that he had a stretch of time, impossible to contemplate, without his mistress who could not take him on her sunshine holiday.
The food was good – exactly the same as at home, except for treats like scraps of Sunday dinner. The walks were OK, except that the Mistress was not there and Will and Mrs T avoided walking down BD’s home street. But the park and Abbot’s Hill were full of smells that humans were utterly unaware of.
It was coming down Abbot’s Hill one evening that BD gave Will his reward. Or was it the other way around? An urgent, complicated overlay of scented canine communication required close study, and BD was pleasantly surprised not to feel the lead jerk. Will, too, was fixed to the spot. He was listening to a Blackcap, perched in a suburban Japanese cherry tree, singing his heart out, ignoring the human and dog below.
As Will said later, there’s always something to be grateful for. And he enjoyed another little link as he researched this post: according to Wikipedia, the Blackcap’s song provided the theme for Saint Francis when that famous bird lover Olivier Messiaen wrote his Opera, Saint François d’Assise. Not just any bird then!
Blackcap by Ron Knight
Yesterday’s reflection seemed incomplete after I’d set it down, though I could not put my finger on why until I found this passage from the pioneering Anglican Franciscan, Father Andrew:
Try to keep a brave will. Minds may wander and hearts feel cold, but if the will is trudging on, however heavily, love is loyal.
The most costly service is really the truest service. it is all part of that spiritual mortification which is part of the inevitable process of the soul’s education.
Mortification is not a word that springs to my mind all that often – this is the first time I’ve tagged it on this blog in 18 months. Maybe I’m just such a big softie that I was rewarded with the snowdrop for the mini-motrification of trudging on with my litter picking. Well, I was glad to see the snowdrop. Laudato Si!
by Agent Ajax/Bogmerlg
Observations to the Central Committee (CC) on Canine Human Interaction: Case Study of Noreen: Sheet 2
Triangulation of telepaths on earth is difficult with two Ossyrian receivers close together and a moving target but the intensity of the signal showed it was from nearby. Agent Alfie jerked his lead out of Will’s hand, ran a few metres away and sat on the grass. Chihuahuax’ ears are also excellent telepath receptors so we established that the signals came from a child’s buggy, pushed by Noreen.
It was Agent Hableehm! She had missed the return flight to Ossyria after the first expedition. When the Director had called agents to embark, she was locked in an Anderson shelter, unable to receive telepaths through the steel plates. She escaped when chasing a rat down a drain but found herself on the street with no desire to eat rats and no communication from the expedition.
Noreen had found her lying in the woods, ‘all skin and bones’, and taken her in. Not wishing the convalescent Jack Russell to pine indoors, she brought Hableehm out each evening in the buggy. Hableehm had telepathed her name to Noreen, a fine receptor for an adult human, but Noreen understood it as Melba. ‘Melba will soon be running round with Mitzi’, Noreen said to Will, ‘the vet says I look after her so well she has to get better.’
We had thought that Agent Hableehm had perished but that almost happened only after we had left her. Now we could take her home for rehabilitation.
‘I’m staying with Noreen,’ she insisted. ‘I owe my life to her. Life as a dog with Noreen is better than living in my solo pod where all is calm and all is grey. I enjoy being fed treats and being groomed. I enjoy walks, I even enjoyed chasing rats but I did not being locked up, that was even darker than pod life.
I like being Melba; life is short, life is sweet.’
Top photo: Agent Alfie