Muddy
Molting Dog Days
By Kent Barker
My poor pooch had a pretty rotten Christmas. Well, Christmas day anyway. She was barred from the house we were
visiting for the festive lunch. They’d
apparently just had the carpets cleaned at considerable expense and so had
banned muddy paws. However it was
noticeable that this injunction didn’t extend to their own dog! He was allowed full reign of the house while
Myrtle had to slum it in the conservatory alongside everyone’s muddy boots and
damp coats.
Now, I do concede that dogs, and in particular my dog, are none too
good at wiping their paws before bounding across cream-coloured carpets and, occasionally, onto sofas. It’s not their fault. They just don’t see the point of a paw mat. I mean the other day Myrtle sat down in the
middle of a muddy puddle in the park just before we were due to visit friends. She didn’t need to. There were other perfectly good and much
dryer and cleaner pieces of ground nearby.
But her mind was on the tennis ball.
And when there’s a ball or stick to chase all other thoughts just
evaporate from that doggy brain. Fellow
hounds will come up to her to pass the time of day or, perhaps, wish her season’s
greetings. But she just ignores them
completely. But without a ball in her
mouth or the prospect of one about to be thrown, she’ll be as sociable as the
next dog, and dutifully allow all manner of canines to sniff round her nether
regions and even accord them the same courtesy.
I’ve long thought this method of greeting total strangers a bit …
well, strange. Just imagine if it was comme
il faut for we humans! No, it really
doesn’t bear thinking about too closely.
A handshake is generally OK – though you do sometimes wonder if the
greeter is as assiduous at washing their hands as they should be. And I’m all for a double-cheek kiss of an
attractive member of the opposite sex but even that can get complicated. Particularly in France. There the triple kiss has become de rigeur particularly for close
friends. But how close? And which cheek to start with? I’m forever getting it wrong and nose-butting
the person in front of me. And should
your lips actually caress the cheek in question or remain a millimeter
apart? And how well do you have to know
the lady to give her a hug at the same time? It’s all very difficult.
There are still some people for whom a hello kiss means on the lips
rather than on the cheek. My former mother-in-law was one such. Now, it’s bad enough having to kiss you
mother-in-law at all. But to set off to
peck her on the cheek in a chaste and affirming kind of way, only to find that
she’s altered the trajectory of the move and planted a kiss full on your lips,
is nothing less than disconcerting and can quite spoil the mood of the
occasion. And what about your
father-in-law? No. I’m not suggesting
you go up and kiss him on the lips. Not
at all. In fact I strongly advise
against it. But should you throw your
arms round him and give him a manly hug?
I’d feel it was a nice gesture, but he might be of a generation where
physical contact with a member of the same sex is likely to produce a reaction somewhere
between panic and repulsion. And anyway
there’s the whole Freudian resentment thing about you sleeping with his
daughter, which a clinch with him might only make worse. (Though letting him
see you kissing his wife on the lips might not be best advised either!)
But back to carpets. I’ve
long wondered at the habit of some country folk in installing wall-to-wall,
light beige or crisp cream carpets in their living area. Mud, particularly at
this time of year, is just bound to get into the house and will, invariably,
end up on the carpet. Along with dog
hairs. Now, Myrtle is black. She can’t help it.
She was born that way. My house
has brick or wooden floors so I simply don’t notice if she’s molting. But take her to my partner’s place and within
minutes her light-coloured carpet is just covered in dog hair. And, being Sisal, it’s a nightmare to get
off. We’ve tried everything: vacuuming,
brushing, sticky back tape, but none appear to work. The only vaguely effective method seems to be
shuffling over the surface with rubber-soled shoes. That rolls the hair up into clumps which can
more easily be collected. But it’s a
slow and laborious business.
I deemed it prudent to bring over a large rug to cover the centre of
her living-room for Christmas. It won’t
stop Myrtle molting, but it might disguise the results.
ends
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