Asking For It

Four years ago, it seemed like a brilliant idea: it would help my motivation, it would be great for the family as a whole, and our overall security would be taken care of.

Quite a job description for a mere mongrel.

Pic courtesy Howie B

Four years on, we can leave the house in her paws, safe in the knowledge that if she doesn’t leave teeth-marks in uninvited visitors, the neighbours will investigate any ruckus she makes. The honeymoon period of family outings for/with the dog are long over – come to think of it, it lasted as long as she looked and gambolled like a puppy.

Which leaves my motivation. I need to run regularly. The Dog needs to be exercised regularly. Hey hey: a running buddy.

The thing is, I hate running. Always have. Always will. But there’s no other form of exercise where a good pair of running shoes is all you need. Biking means bike maintenance. Walking’s too slow. Swimming means a half-hour drive (and costs). One could say it’s a low-maintenance high-intensity kind of exercise. I still say the hell with that – I hate it.

It has some pluses though. It’s supposed to be good for me. It clears my head, though this shouldn’t be surprising considering the din of my desperate wheezing, a drumrolling heartbeat, and a thought-process as primal as just to the next corner… okay, just a little bit more to the next telephone pole… ihatethisshit… now just to that red car…. On occasion, it feels good when I’m huffing about out there and I think, I’m-a goin’ places, yessirree… oh yeah, feel the flow, baby… but these are rare moments, fleeting enough that I seek them like some narcotic high.

Writing’s like that sometimes. I’d be sprawled across some project and, despite the writing pains, a liitle voice whispers how about… just one more set-piece/subplot/pay-off, hm? like, how hard could it be? Rare flashes of creative joy as words are thrown up on-screen in search of a story.

By the end of it all, whether I’m running or writing, I’m glad to (still) be alive, there’s the satisfaction of having done it and, if I’m not careful, thinking that wasn’t so bad – let’s go again.

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14 Replies to “Asking For It”

  1. did you not know that your dog has a secret life?
    ella by day
    jessie the crimefighter by night
    as the dog’s mentor said, “if there is a bone to pick, you will be there”

  2. of COURSE – “don’t. blow. your cover.”

    an inaugural no-prize to the canny comment-reader who can name the film that was enunciated in.

  3. thanks for the no prize
    it throw me back to the silver age of marvel comic books
    and those letter pages by Stan the Man

    yes jessie the wonder dog
    whose secret weapons include the pooper shooter
    and beware when she raises her leg…..

  4. Ok, ok – so I’m finally replying. I am a blog replying/poster virgin so please forgive me.

    Ella’s secret life is actually that she goes out and hangs with the local cats – shocking I know, but true. She finds the purring soothing after a hard run with her master (truth being she hates running too and doesn’t really need the exercise ;O)

  5. yes, it is true she hangs with the local cool cats
    the clue is in the name, ella being ella fitzgerald
    remember the origin tail?
    the cats she hangs out with are those cool jazz kitties
    like dizzy, the bird, the monk and lady day
    cos the alley ways of the noir landscape at night is where the action is at
    and that is a fact, jack
    bongo, bongo my friends

  6. to recap the origin tail
    Jessie/Ella was aware of her secret powers long before dizzy the cat introduced her to the jazz gang
    the origin goes back to the dying embers of WW2 where desperate Nazi scientists were looking to perfect a serum to create a secret weapon, super “hot” dogs
    but when Berlin fell, the secrets fell to the highest bidder
    in this case, the Americans took over the unfinished project as a new war came into being, the Cold War
    but, the project was never completed as more glamorous projects like the H bomb took precedence
    and there the tale would have ended, had it not been for an archivist many years later in a small country down at the bottom of the world
    whilst doing a routine clear out of old intelligence material, mention was made of the long forgotten project in secret papers shared with the SIS in New Zealand
    just enough material was leaked which intrigued the poorly paid archivist in the NZ public sector
    the archivist who had a science background
    checking his sources in the land of old Uncle Sam, and ones in Deutschland, he realised that this was the only copy left of the project
    disillusioned by his poor public sector pay, the archivist checked in his job and moved north from the nation’s capital in Wellington to Auckland, and set around to completing the project
    the archivist even learned some German to try to complete this task that would earn him money
    even if the only clients were likely to be criminal ones
    but like other things in his life, Herbet Smith would fail at this
    or so he thought
    whilst his life ebbed away at the bottom of yet another bottle of vodka, in the bushes of the Waitakere Ranges, two of his subjects that ran away from Herbet’s crumbling lab were busy setting up a family
    that litter included Jessie…..
    …and so began a new 21st century super hero legend….
    Nuff said

  7. i -. yeah -. but -.

    “Captain America” meets “Hellboy” meets “The Plague Dogs”.

    better register that idea quicksmart, Stevo.

  8. ok
    got the Kirby, Captain America part
    but I will admit that I have not read hellboy or the plague dogs
    I did see the hellboy movie

    nice plug though

  9. hey boys, good to catch you all on the same page. ella the mutt / jessie the crimefighter – who knew? so that was her cape and tights in the wash? and here i was thinking dfmamea had been dressing up and jumping off the shed roof again…

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