Maida Vale Sound Effects and Bumble Bee Flight

 From comedian & writer Paul Kerensa:

No holiday for us this year. Because we’ve given in: we’ve got a dog. I wanted to call her Foibles – as in ‘my pet Foibles’ – but no, ‘Tilly’ is our new cockapoo puppy. Half cocker spaniel, half poodle, all white apart from one black eye patch. Matches me perfectly – I’ve got a dodgy left eye too, so she immediately drew my… well, my eye – the right one. So she certainly belongs.

But dog’s first nights reminded us a little too much of other family members’ arrivals. “Back to the newborn days” was a phrase uttered several times in that first week. 2am whimperings, 4am accidents… Our first dog has brought a season of chaos, but she’s a quick learner. She fits in, even sleeps and messes when and where she’s meant to. A month on, things got easier quickly, I guess because dog years are like seven human years. If a dog day is a week, maybe she’s growing and learning seven times faster than the kids did. We all grow at different rates.

I believe in dog and God, so I wonder what that time shift might be like for our Almighty Owner too. Unlike canine years, I don’t know the exchange rate of divine to human years. But like us with our pup, I think our master has plans for us – walks, treats, a chance to rub noses. Like the walkies our cockapoo goes on, we don’t know where we’re going or when. We just follow His lead, and trust.

If there is a God, I think He loves our ‘foibles’ – even my dodgy left eye – and sometimes, when we whimper for him in the night, maybe He clears up after us.

And if we don’t believe in dog – God, sorry – perhaps we can agree that obedience classes are sometimes necessary, learning that slow lesson, that a little diligence – a few ethical boundaries – can be helpful, so we don’t run wild. Like our hound, none of us are whiter than white, but just by being, we’ve all earned a treat, a pat and perhaps our metaphorical tummies being metaphorically tickled.

Ultimately we’re all rolling around this planet like panting fools, playing with toys, occasionally looking up. And who’s a good boy? All I can say, is I’m trying to be.