Because of my accident, I have only 40% eyesight and no depth of field awareness so I am unable to drive. I walk everywhere. To my unutterable delight, my apartment is directly behind a Spar supermarket. It is a really great shop. It’s always clean and the shop assistants are friendly with ready smiles.
Perdita, my Wire-Haired Dachshund, is not allowed in the shop. She has become quite used to our shopping expeditions. I tie her to the shopping basket stand at the door. I then leave her there and proceed to do all my shopping. If I disappear down an aisle where she can’t see me for long, then Perdita begins to bark. Wherever I am in the shop, I shout out: “It’s okay, Perdita, I’m coming. Just wait!”
She mutters to herself and continues to stand and search. When she sees me she gives a joyful yelp and then sits quietly once more, her eyes never leaving me. The Spar security guard, Rita, has taken note of her distress when I disappear. She goes and stands with Perdita and speaks softly to her until I appear to collect her. Then she hands me her lead and we make our way home.
Recently I took Perdita outside to do her late night wee just before bed. She sniffled around the fence, did her wee and came running when I gave a small whistle. We went back inside, Perdita  ahead of me. I locked the gate and the door behind me. Then I took Spencer, my cockatiel, through to the bedroom and shouted out to Perdita who was obviously eating her food in the lounge: “I’m just doing my face and teeth. I’m coming to bed in a moment.”
I did my face and teeth and went through to the lounge to check my doors were locked and switch off the lights. Perdita had obviously gone through to the bedroom. I closed the door behind my sliding gate and was about to switch off the light when a program on television caught my attention. I watched for about fifteen minutes then finally switched it off. I yawned as I got into bed. I was tired. I snuggled down to where Perdita normally was in my bed…and there was nothing! I shot up. “Perdita! Perdita, where are you?” No dog appeared. I put my Cochlear Implants back in so that my sound was restored and searched the flat. I have a small apartment so that didn’t take long!
No Perdita. Was I going mad? I thought back and I realised that I hadn’t seen her since she had run into my flat. Damn it! I realised that she had run ahead of me and straight out again through the sliding gate. Shytenhauzen, where the heck had she disappeared to? I went and stood in the dark garden and did her whistle. No response. I didn’t dare call her as it would wake up my flat mates. It was already ten past eleven. Perdita, please don’t do this, I thought. This was when I needed a car so badly. I needed to comb the streets and see if I could find her. It wasn’t safe for me to go “walkabout” in the pitch dark. Blast it! Then I saw that my neighbour Norene’s light was on. She was still awake. I phoned her and five minutes later we were both in her car heading into the night. We drove around the neighbourhood our eyes scanning every nook and cranny. No Perdita! We passed through the back of Spar, the corner where the dustbins are kept. All looked quiet. And then, mercifully, I saw her. The car’s headlight picked out this surprised dog picking at the rubbish. She had gone to collect all the little bits and pieces that were thrown out and collected by the rubbish van the next day. Perdita had obviously made a bee-line for all the lovely morsels of decaying food!
“Perdita!” My voice was low and deadly. She ran towards me but with her tail between her legs. Roughly I scooped her up and we drove home.
“Norene, I don’t know what I would have done without you. She could have been hit by a car. She could have been stolen. Thank you.” I was close to tears. We said good night as I let myself into my flat.
“You make so mad,” I fumed at Perdita. “How dare you go up to the Spar at this time? And by yourself!”
Perdita looked suitably ashamed. I was beside myself. “And don’t think that you are coming to sleep with me tonight. You can sleep in your basket in the study.” Slamming my door, I got into bed and yanked out my book. I hated sleeping by myself. I missed that warm body nestled into mine. “Blasted dog!” I muttered. Half an hour later I opened my door. Perdita, sitting directly outside, looked up at me. “All right, you can come in,” I growled. She flung herself at my bed in joyful abandon. Lying there with Perdita in my arms, I thought of those Mothers who had lost their children and never found them. I thought of those two hundred Nigerian school girls held captive since the 14th April. I cannot even imagine what those parents are going through. Are their daughters alive? Have they been raped? Where are they sleeping? Why can’t we find them and bring them home? I thought of Madeleine McCann’s mother. Her child has been missing for seven years. How do all these parents ever manage to fall asleep? Not to know whether your child is alive or dead! The anguish and despair they must go through is unthinkable. Perdita was missing for about an hour! I felt ashamed of my histrionics! I kissed Perdita’s head softly. I went to sleep as normal with Perdita tucked into my stomach snoring gently.
The next morning, needing some milk, Perdita and I made our way to the Spar. We passed the turn off to the dustbins and she did not even look in that direction. Good dog, I thought. At the door we were greeted by Rita, “I’ll tie her up for you.”
I handed Rita Perdita’s lead as I went in to do my shopping.
Yep, I love Spar. Laugh, and as far as Perdita is concerned: THAT SPAR IS HER SPAR!

The post Spar’s Child! appeared first on 'ear 'ear! by Gaynor Young.

For

I smiled at this poem written by Rudyard Kipling after the death of his dog.

*

A Dog for Jesus
(Where dogs go when they die)

I wish someone had given Jesus a dog.
As loyal and loving as mine.
To sleep by His manger and gaze in His eyes
And adore Him for being divine.

As our Lord grew to manhood His faithful dog,
Would have followed Him all through the day.
While He preached to the crowds and made the sick well
And knelt in the garden to pray.
It is sad to remember that Christ went away.
To face death alone and apart.
With no tender dog following close behind,
To comfort its Master’s Heart.
And when Jesus rose on that Easter morn,
How happy He would have been,
As His dog kissed His hand and barked it’s delight,
For The One who died for all men.

Well, the Lord has a dog now, I just sent Him mine,
The old pal so dear to me.
And I smile through my tears on this first day alone,
Knowing they’re in eternity.
Day after day, the whole day through,
Wherever my road inclined,
Four feet said, “Wait, I’m coming with you!”
And trotted along behind.

The post Heaven’s Creatures! appeared first on 'ear 'ear! by Gaynor Young.

       The male birds are a beautiful bright yellow in colour. The females are a mousy green. This probably explains their stroppiness over the nests. “Yah, you might be a good looking hunk, but can hunks build good houses? I think NOT!”

       B and John regularly “borrow” a little Jack Russell, Rainbow. What a character that dog is! She is the only dog I’ve ever come across that actually pulls her mouth into a cheeky grin. She loves bringing this stick for you to throw in the stream. Then quick as a flash she is in after it and the wet stick is deposited at your feet with a wagging Rainbow ready for the whole process to begin again. It’s fine for the first couple of times but after the fourth or fifth throw one has had enough. It is then a case of: “No, Rainbow, I’ve finished throwing your stick now.You go and amuse yourself.” And she does. She takes the stick onto the bridge and then nudges it so that it falls off the bridge into the water. It’s then a case of: ‘Ah, the stick has been thrown into the water. I’ll fetch it!’ She runs off the bridge, dives into the stream, joyfully collects the stick and the whole process begins again! I have included a video of Rainbow, the bridge and the stick. You will smile out loud!

The post Rainbow, the Bridge & the Stick! appeared first on 'ear 'ear! by Gaynor Young.

I decided I wanted to move from Durban to Cape Town. I wanted to be near family and my sister, lived there. When I told my parents of this, Mum’s response was: “Gaynor, there’s no way you’d be able to afford a place in Cape Town. The prices are astronomical. Why don’t you rather move down to George?”

“George! But….George is for…well, old people.”

“What utter tripe! It is just that you don’t know any young people in George.”

The next day I looked around George. It’s actually a beautiful little town with the sea, forests and those incredibly majestic mountains. Mum phoned a friend, Gill, who was an estate agent and the next day she arrived complete with plans for a new block of flats going up called Mallory Place.  It was going to be built half a kilometre from my parents house and…..yes, you’ve guessed it! I bought a ground floor flat. I was shocked at the haste with which the whole deal came about and I thought that I would wake a few days later and would be filled with regret. It didn’t  happened! So I went back to Durban, sold my flat and duly headed for George. My apartment is situated directly behind a supermarket, a chemist and a video shop. What could be better for this DVD junkie?

I asked Gill: “Do you think that I will be allowed a dog?”

Instantly she was on her phone inquiring for me. Apparently they were not clear on all the rules as yet.  The flats had not even been built! Well, I thought, somewhat mutinously, I am going to have a dog. I want a dog! Oohhh, please God, let me have a dog!

Mallory Place was beautiful when it was finished and I duly moved in. But horror of all horror, no dogs or cats were allowed. Yes, I was allowed my cockatiel but that was it. I duly wrote a letter to the board asking them: Please may I have a dog. I am deaf and I need the protection! And you are not going to believe it but they said YES! I was overjoyed.

Mum has a close friend, Maureen, who works at the SPCA. She knew the kind of dog I was looking for and contacted me, highly delighted. “We have just the dog for you, a wire haired Dachshund. She came to us pregnant and had two puppies. She has a week longer with the puppies and then she is free to go. Come and meet her!”

I was nervous travelling to the SPCA. What happened if I took an instant dislike to this dog that Maureen had picked out for me? Well, I decided, I would be totally honest and say exactly what I felt. Maureen greeted us and said: “I’ll go and fetch her. And Gaynor, if you don’t take her, I will.” Maureen owned six dogs, all SPCA specials! I had no doubt that she meant it. I waited. The next moment Maureen appeared with a dog on a lead.

She was a small dog with a brindled coat of sandy, cream, rust and black hues, kind of a Yorkie colouring. Her face is dominated by these bushy eyebrows. She has brown eyes framed with the longest eyelashes that gazed shyly up at me.

I fell in love!

I had just finished romping through a Jilly Cooper novel in which the heroine was called Perdita. I read that it meant – little lost one. A perfect name for my new female friend, I thought. I am ashamed to say that I have never read A Winters Tale so that Perdita is totally foreign to me. My Perdita is pronounced Per-deeta.

Last year a new resident moved in to Mallory Place, and she bought her little Maltese dog with her. Our supervisor spoke to her and said that before she moved in he had said quite clearly that no pets were allowed.

“Yes, but I saw that woman downstairs with her dog and I thought…”

Our supervisor cut her off. “You saw wrong, Madam, that is not her dog, that is her child. I am sorry but no dogs allowed!”

Laugh…and that is how my “child”, Perdita, came to live with me at  88 Mallory Place!

Disclaimer: To protect privacy, names and places in this story have been changed.

The post My love child……………..! appeared first on 'ear 'ear! by Gaynor Young.

Every night I take off my hearing appliances and go back to being as deaf as 43 doornails. Perdita, my dog, somehow senses this and from the moment my hearing appliances gets put in their box, I have one incredibly avid guard-dog, sensitive to all the night sounds.

It was about 3.30 in the morning.I was asleep in the “spoon” position with Perdita lying as a baby does, close to my chest. Peace reigned. Suddenly panic erupted as Perdita literally threw herself out of the bed, practically dislodging my nose. She raced through to the lounge barking madly. And, no, I didn’t hear her but I know that dog of mine. She was obviously “scaring off an intruder”! Normally this takes about 3 – 5 minutes and then Perdita returns with a triumphant “Ha! Got rid of him” air about her as she re-snuggles against my chest. Only this time she didn’t return. “Perdita!” I called out sleepily, “Come on, come back to bed!”

I waited. No Perdita.

I switched on my sidelight, sat up and called once more. Still no returning prodigal! I got out of bed and went through to the lounge. And there sitting on my dining room table, her eyes turned upwards towards the ceiling was Perdita!

“Perdita, what on earth are you doing? You know you’re not allowed on the dining room table!”

She didn’t even look at me, just wagged her tail in acknowledgement.

“Perdita, honestly!” I said and thoroughly exasperated I scooped her up and made my way back to bed.

I could almost hear Perdita say: “But, Mum, you don’t understand….”

“Go to sleep, Angel.” Warmly ensconsed in bed, Perdita against my chest once more, I was just beginning to fall asleep when the panic-ed nose-dislodger once more erupted. That damn dog! I waited about ten minutes then on went my bedside light and I climbed out of bed once more. I went through to the lounge and sure enough Perdita was once more on my dining room table with her acknowledging tail wagging madly. I walked up to her and said: “Perdita, what’s up?” And, indeed, that was where she was looking – up! Following her gaze I looked up at the top of the curtains. Nada! Nothing! I held Perdita up, near the curtain rail and said: “Look, Angel, nothing!” She squirmed in my arms, attempting to get closer. And that was when I saw it! Two black eyes and a pink nose. I got one almighty fright. A mouse! It took one look at Perdita and I and dived back into the top of the curtains. I was totally pathetic. I instantly ran and got a large wooden spoon which I brandished at the curtains. Please, Gaynor, of what use is a wooden spoon going to be? A little more collectedly, I put down my wooden spoon and picked up a dish towel. Yes! If I could capture the mouse in the towel, then I could take it to the sliding door and that would be that. So…Gaynor joined Perdita on the dining room table armed with the dish towel and searched for the mouse. And I found it. I snapped the towel around it. Ha, I had it! Then gingerly I climbed off my table, opened the sliding door a little further and then shook the towel out in the garden. I looked for the mouse….but couldn’t see it. Oh well, at least it was outside. I closed my sliding door and called: “C’mon, Perdita, back to bed.”

But Perdita wasn’t interested in me or bed. She was seated next to my washstand, her head cocked to one side. What was….? Her wagging tail told me the rest. I peered at the back of my washstand. Forget about the mouse being outside. It was balancing with an arm and foot on the washstand and an arm and foot on the wall, too terrified to venture on the ground. Oh, glory be! If only it would just get outside. Unable to hold it’s position it dropped to the floor and made a bee-line for the bathroom with my bloody Perdita hot on it’s heels. I went into the bathroom to discover my dog wedged behind the washing machine. There was a growl, a bark and silence. Then Perdita’s bum appeared as she backed out. She looked at me, wagged her tail and literally grinned. I looked behind the washing machine and sure enough, there was the mouse – dead.

“Why did you have to kill it? It was no threat to you. It wasn’t a ferocious rat, it wasn’t even a mouse, Perdita. It was a…a dormouse!” I was close to tears as I deposited it’s body in the dustbin outside. Perdita had no such qualms. The only thing that upset her was having to leave the dustbin and go back inside!

Apparently, Dachshunds are ace mouse catchers. They are known for it. So Perdita was merely being true to her nature. Just as we women get pleasure out of being thought attractive, babies like to be rocked, people like to be loved….so Dachshunds like to catch mice.

Bugger it!!!

The post Night time manoeuvres! appeared first on 'ear 'ear! by Gaynor Young.

On Tuesday evening, Perdita (my wire haired Dachshund) and I were making our regular walk from my apartment to my Mum’s. It was a beautiful evening and I was humming as I strolled. Perdita strutted along beside me, gleefully barking and generally winding up the other dogs in the neighbourhood. It was a case of: “Ha!You’re locked up! Look at me!”
Perdita got her comeuppance! ‘Bark, bark’ as we approached my Mum’s neighbour. They have two enormous dogs who Perdita gets great joy in taunting. Well, not only did they bark back, but also charged out of their open garden gate towards us! Perdita was utterly horrified. I bent down attempting to rescue Perdita but in doing so lost my balance as the two dogs bowled into me at full pelt!

The good news is – Perdita is fine! The bad news – I have broken two bones in my spastic right hand. It is now in a plaster cast for 6 weeks. I have also dislocated and broken the middle finger on my good left hand. This is currently strapped to my ‘wedding’ finger. Today we saw the orthopaedic surgeon who is operating on it this evening and putting in steel pins.
Glory be, I come out of hospital tomorrow only to go back in on Monday!
Please pray that all goes well in tonight’s operation.
For the time being, I have moved in with my Mum who, thank the Pope,is a trained nurse. Throughout my turbulent life, my Mum has been the most important person to me. She has raised me twice, and continues to rescue me when disasters strike.
She is also my best friend.

Love you Mum!
Ps. I guess blogging now is going to be a slower affair as my typing skills are truly tested!

The post ‘Oh no! ……………..Disaster!’ appeared first on 'ear 'ear! by Gaynor Young.