Mr Bill and the Glory Hog

An old friend came back into my life this week! I was doing nothing, just lying on the floor by K’s office door upstairs.  J, whose ESP was on the blink, had strode in earlier and said cheerily to K, Would you like a strawberry frozen fruit bar? Some frozen grapes? A sweet treat?   K swirled in his chair and telepathed his “ahhhh….speaker phone conference call” stare at her and J had a good laugh alone downstairs and tiptoed in later and took him a strawberry bar.  So anyway, J was cleaning her croffice (that is her craft room/office) and I was sound asleep when I heard a familiar voice, “Oh, NOOOOOooooooo!”

MR BILL!! I hadn’t seen him for weeks!  I leapt up and raced down the hall.  I sewed him up, Maxie, J said, and handed him to me. Maybe it would be better if you and Buzz play tug of war with something else.   I shook him.  Oh, NOOOOOooooooo went Mr. Bill.  I took him outside where all the neighbors could hear.

I absolutely love Mr. Bill. He’s one of my three favorite babies.  JK can imitate him perfectly, and sometimes we’ll have long conversations, all OH’s and NOOO’s and I feel like we’re really talking. Because with Mr. Bill, I can talk like they do.  It makes me more human.  None of my babies irritate Buzz as much as Mr. Bill. He tries to grab him from me, and that’s how we tore his foot up.  Buzz says dogs should use their God-given intuition and telepathic skills, not try to talk like humans through a strange little weirdo for pete’s sake. 

On our walk to the boat ramp yesterday, J told K about an article she read, something about whether dogs can telepathically understand which humans are more likely to give them food. Buzz says, oh right, like that needed a study and he wishes they would have tested on him. He says JK flunk big, big time when it comes to understanding or obeying the “give me food” look.  He says his human siblings are way nicer about it and when they come to visit, just watch what happens. 

Then J said she saw a joke, If you want to know who loves you more, lock your dog and your wife in the trunk of the car and check to see who’s happy to see you when you let them out.  They laughed and laughed and Buzz and I did not get the joke. Of course we would be happy to see K if he let us out of the trunk! Who wouldn’t be? And it would be even more fun if J got to be in there with us, because usually she has to sit up front.

Dogs are telepathic in a lot of ways, I hate to make fun of that study but they barely scratched the surface.  For instance, the other day I just KNEW Macy was going to be walking by the house with her lady and pretty soon – yep!! I whined at the door until J let me out and I could rocket across the lawn and bowl Macy over – then they came and visited for a while, oh I loved every second! I tried to get Macy to play ball with me but she was worried her necklace would break-- her lady lets her wear it when they’re not walking. So we hung out and I batted the ball around and chewed some bits off of it while the humans talked and talked.  They never, ever run out of words.

Watch the beads, watch the beads!!

Speaking of telepathy, on our walk yesterday Buzz said to me out of the corner of his mouth, “I’m going to roll.”  I was like, “What?” and Buzz said it again, “I’m going to ROLL. Watch me.”  I said, “Hey there’s that fancy cat,” and that was the end of it.  He didn’t roll, and the cat just stared at us with slitty, superior eyes.  I really, really wanted to meet it but the pack was on the hunt and I didn’t break from it.

Well it turns out J had our shampoo in the backpack and the first thing they did was walk to the old ramp and J took off her shoes and socks and waded in, tugging Buzz with her.  She gave him a good scrubbing, and he just stood there like a rock and tolerated it, but I could tell he was plotting something.  My turn. I hunched down in the water while J rinsed me off so she could get all the shampoo out.  I don’t tell Buzz this, because he says it’s an affront to self respecting stinko dogs everywhere, but I like baths. I have so much fur and all that scrubbing feels so good.  After we finished, J sat down on a rock to dry her feet.  K threw the ball for me.

Buzz meandered off and acted like he was checking out the dog scents.  Then he quickly went to a patch of dry dirt and rolled! He rolled until the dirt was ground hard into the wet fur on his side and leg! JK and I stared at him. They just burst out laughing. I couldn’t believe it.

First of all, how did he know we were going to have baths that day?  Buzz says it’s elevated telepathy, probably more a purebred thing but that I’ll get better as I get older no matter what my bloodlines.  And second, how could he be so brazen about dirtying himself up again? Buzz says once in a while you have to do “in your face!” just to establish the boundaries of You’re Not The Boss Of Me.  I don’t know, I mean, I try establishing those rules with my ball now and then but when they say MaxWELL!! like that, I just feel like, They Are The Boss. Buzz says not necessarily, but let them think it. Telepathy exhausts me. I wonder if I’ll ever get it.

J picked Buzz up and plopped him right back in the water and rinsed him off again. He stayed clean this time. It didn’t matter. Clean wasn’t the point. Boundaries had been established. Buzz said he won.

J and I have been working with the Hog, to help me with my fears.  JK started calling it “Harley” which I guess is what they named it. J brings my favorite tiny little treats out to the garage, then sets them on or near the Hog Harley and if I want them, I have to come close and get them.  Every time I take one, she says Harley! Good dog Maxie!! And pets me.  Harley just sits there, never growls or roars at me. J doesn’t pet it, just me – and it leaves my treats alone.  It smells like leather and the metal like my dog tags.  At first I would creep up and grab the treat and jump back, but now I’m OK with even taking one off its tail.  I just can’t understand why J sounds so cheerful. It’s such hard work.

Well so yesterday after our walk and breakfast, JK got dressed in jeans and those ugly round hats. J’s is pink! Buzz and I got to sniff Hog  Harley, then J put us in the yard and K sat on Harley and it started roaring. I stood at the gate and barked as loud as I could while J got on. Harley growled down the driveway and the street with them, then disappeared.  Buzz stared out the gate with me and said, “That thing is a Glory Hog if I ever saw one.” Then he went to finish his little bit of peanut butter and take a nap.

Later in the afternoon, J told me about it. It’s just the best feeling, Maxie, she said. You’re going so fast. You have the breeze on your face and the warm sun on your skin. You’re aware of things you would never notice otherwise. Smells like smoke from a fire and hamburgers frying and pine sap. You feel the coolness coming from the woods when you ride into a patch of shade.  You see a broken pane of glass on an old shed, or ivy crawling up a telephone pole, or the words on an ancient sign, BOLICK’S GRO.  You hear the roar of the engine and it’s actually you! You feel completely alive because all your senses are engaged.  You’re all part of one perfect machine, out in the open. It’s freedom. The closest thing to flying.

I watched her face. My telepathy kicked in. And I got it. I know that happiness! I understand why they love that thing. The Glory Hog is their Mr. Bill.  Oh, YES!  The Harley turns them into dogs.