Tag: brother

The joy of life

I was going to call this article “The Joy of Dex” but that may attract a different type of reader.

I’ve been watching my brother recently and noticed that he has settled so much faster than I did when I arrived. I am forever on the go, I need to see whats happening, when its happening and why. If someone goes out of the room, I will be right there dutifully trotting along behind. It has come to my ever increasing notice that Lenny just stays on his bed, lazily opens one eye to survey the scene and then falls back to sleep again.

Chalk and cheese we are referred to. The rare times upon which he will move swiftly usually involve food or going into the garden to run around like hounds possessed.

On our walks around the local lanes Lenny has started to find his own trails more often although we still sniff the same scents now and again. When we look at him, he is trotting along with his tongue hanging out, happiness writ large over his cheery little face.

Today I was in the office with mum whilst she worked away and dad made dinner. Lenny strolled to the door and asked politely if he could go outside, so dad obliged. Within five minutes there was a quiet bump on the door and Lenny was playing happily with a small unripe apple that had fallen from one of the trees in my small orchard. He picked up the apple, tossed it onto the patio and play bowed with it. He was so engrossed with such a small thing that brought him so much joy that he hardly noticed dad watching him.

Apparently he is a little heart melter just like me. We may be the same breed but we are so different in our nature. He is the epitome of a rescued dog living his best life with love and security showered upon him.

Dr Jekyll and Mr Lenny

Wake up wake up, it’s gone 6 am and the squirrels are running amok in the grounds. Ok, they’re not actually running amok but mum and dad didn’t know and we could have stopped a squirrel invasion. I got Lenny to leap on dads kidneys so he had no excuse to go back to sleep. Up and at them, come on.

We were soon in our harnesses and exploring the lanes and byways around Pednor, with the sun on our fur and our scent receptors close to the ground. As we went along the lane, the rabbits scattered for their burrows and the squirrels hid in their trees, sadly out of our reach. Upon reaching the dingley dell on the corner of the road, we decided we would take the parents along Herberts Hole as there was a better chance of getting some good baying off our chests with the critters that live in the hedgerows. Birds, squirrels and rodents made their escape as we wandered along, having great fun. Apparently I sound like one of those steam trains you see and hear in old films, when I am on the trail of prey. Anyway, we got most of the way down the track and mum decided she had to return home to do something called ‘work’. Nope, I have no idea what it is either. So, we turned around and headed home.

Back at home and after breakfast we were allowed out into the garden again as the sun was still shining and there were various horticultural chores that needed to be started and finished. It was such a peaceful morning with Lenny and I wandering around, sniffing, lazing on the grass and playing the odd bit of snout jousting. He seemed to be quite calm as we lay near each other, thinking about where we could drag mum and dad tomorrow morning.

What a lovely day for some nefarious activity

Then it started. The glint in his eye, the slight wry smile, the malevolent sideways glance to see if I was concentrating. He woofed to me that he was off to chew a stick so off he toddled. You could almost see the little halo above his head, he looked so innocent. My canine senses told me there was malice afoot however and I made myself ready to repel boarders. I was right, quick as a flash he was on to me, teeth glinting in the sun, eyes reddened from his transformation into a devil of the night and his paws standing on my ears whilst his teeth went to work on my face. He had pinned me down ready to inflict the final chomp on my jugular vein. However he didn’t account for my saviour, in the shape of a dad shaped object advancing up the garden to prise us apart and save my ears and neck from looking like a kitchen colander. “Off! Leave him alone!” called dad. And suddenly Lenny was running googley eyed around the garden arooing at his perceived victory over me. I got ear tickles whilst dad made sure I hadn’t been perforated and then he told me to “stop encouraging Lenny”. Forget the perforated ears, they were shocked and stunned ears. As I looked past dad, I saw Lenny down the garden once again wandering around quietly eating revolting stuff and looking for worm casts to roll in. How could he be so different so quickly?

Ow ow, get off. Hee hee.

I had held him off, just, and I live to tell the tale. Innocent, my paw.

I shall chew a stick and await my next victim.

Still love him though. He is my brother after all.