A Dog's Life It Is...

Have you ever wondered why the statement ‘it’s a dog’s life’?

It must have started in the centuries past, where man and dog co-existed and hunted together, dog doing all the toiling and man just going in for the kill and could have meant working oneself out over little gains. But things are fast a-changing.

Today, in the urban lifestyle, a dog is the king of the crib. Ask me, or better still, ask Apache!

Apache is my Belgian Shepherd dog, jet black coat with a white scarf patch, six hind toes, and brown eyes that seem to soften the grim look he would have had they been the color of his coat. But that is not the best thing about Apache. It is his incredible ability to deter strangers through a guerilla tactic of hug and lick that deter even the most patient dog lovers and would be miscreants. More likely his ‘licks can kill’.

But let me not boast of Apache’s handsome demeanor. This blog is about my envy of his life. A dog’s life. And I want it!

Apache’s day begins sharp at half past whenever he wants to wake up. His wake up yawn is followed up with a few full body stretches that gets him ready for the next item on the agenda – become an alarm clock.

Apache has distinct ways to wake up each person at home. Me, he will wake up by licking my hand and letting me know it’s time to wake up and wash my hands before I touch anything! The rest are woken up by his gentle prancing across the home bundled with some non-stop clicketty-click footwork. Once all of us are up, the day begins at home.

Having completed mission wakey wakey, Apache’s next order of business is a visit to the trenches. Cadet ‘Patch is well trained to soil only where the soil can absorb and reuse. The morning ablutions are combined with his morning walk, an hour long with gentle pauses of catnip salad and ritual territorial markings.

There are those rare days when this leisurely walk is disturbed by stray canine hooligans who are dealt with severe barks, growls, and more territorial markings that would cause the Nile to dry up. The return walk back home is sprinkled with some gazelle-like bounding and hunter stalk and ambush with my shoes while I am wearing them. Seems I wear them out way to soon and it could be attributed to the Peter Pan of dogs.

Once home after the morning walk, Apache tanks up on water and chows down on a breakfast of pet-food or gourmet dog food prepared especially for him. A good breakfast meal is a heavy meal that straight up leads to a snooze.

Nap times are long and languid hours of nothingness punctuated with barks, scratches, and a few gulps from the fountain of the thirst busters. This is followed by longer naps and more of those distractions.

By midday the haze of laze subsides with a want of activity. A passerby, some chirping birds, joyous shouts of children playing, or even a breeze of wind that rustles the leaves is adequate to rouse curiosity. And that piqued inquisitivity is sated with some relentless barking and quick-pawed rounds around the house.

If it’s the children that caused this activity, it is further fueled by an exchange of canine talk between the children and Apache. I wonder what is it that the children communicate with him but he seems happy to be able to voice back to them in response to their initial discussion point.

Some more sleep followed with a treat of chewies (those doggie treats that act as supplements and seem to taste good as per Apache).

By the time it’s 6ish in the evening, it’s time for the evening walk. As all walks, this one too is greeted with some excitement and impatience. Every time the leash is brought to his collar, Apache responds by trying to chase his tail. I have no idea whether he wants the leash to be tied to his collar or his tail! Nonetheless, leash secured, we begin our eveninger. A walk by the sunset. A walk by folks returning home. A walk by the mornings poop stop. Stinky doobidy doo.

On the return, there is some chase the legs game. Apache tries to stalk and hunt my legs while I try to hurdle over his attempts. This is his favorite game and he can go through hours of this if he gets his way.

Back home, after that bit of exercise and activity, a bowl filled with water quenches his thirst while a dinner or soup with bones, meat, rice, and mashed veggies greets his pallet appetizingly. With speed and dexterity the meat is identified and savaged upon. Then come the bones alternated with the broth. Finally the rice and veggies go in grudgingly. And then burrrrp!

He is happy the day went well. Now time can be spent lying down while we watch television, unless there is meat for our meal tantalizing him to want some more. The day ends with the cliketty-click of paws heading back towards the bedroom where he occupies his favorite spot to sleep on, the floor rug. With a yawn and a scratch, sleep is welcomed. The eyes gradually blink out into dream state with yips and nips in response to the fun he has with his eyes closed and mind wandering.

So what is a day in the life of Apache? Wake up, clean up, eat up, sleep, bark and make a point heard, eat some more, more sleep, play and clean up, eat, and then drift back to sleep.

If that’s a dog’s life; give it all to me. I bow wow to it!