As the metaphorical ink dries on the figurative blog parchment in front of me, I’m engaged in a staring contest with a Lhasa apso dog.
Well, clearly, not exactly as I scribe. After all, I’d have no chance of prevailing in a competition whose aim is to outstare a challenger until they avert their eyes, whilst concurrently penning a narrative. The fact I’d be scribing means I’d frequently need to avert my eyes mid challenge; subsequently losing me the ocular joust.
Creative writing requires great focus, and I can state categorically any indulgence in a ‘Man vs Dog’ stare fest in parallel to undertaking the writing process would impact my concentration levels severely.
So, to clarify, the glaring contest I engaged in with Lord Avashight (aka Deano) took place shortly prior to me commencing today’s journal.
I’m unclear what manifested this stare to the death challenge with my furry little buddy. From the passiveness adorning the Lhasa’s bearded mush while this played out, along with the humility on my own non-confrontational bearded mush, it clearly wasn’t an alpha male challenge aimed at establishing the ‘man’ of the house…… Or indeed top dog.
In fact, the sad eyed glare in Deano’s peepers was the very antithesis of confrontational. He seemed more intent on hypnotising me with his own brand of canine emotional blackmail. A ploy he utilises with such melancholy and skill, if I could guarantee he’d not bite me, I’d put a mask over his eyes to spare me from these mesmerising stares.
Additionally, I feel disinclined to put an eye mask on old Avvers as he’s already deaf. Consequently, I feel it’d be cruel to turn the unpredictable Lhasa into a canine version of Tommy in The Who’s 1969 eponymous rock opera.
Tommy the deaf, dumb and blind kid who evidently ‘sure played a mean pinball’. Well, that’s according to numerous people who over the decades have waxed lyrical in song about the young man’s Bally table and religious exploits.
Admittedly, though, as Lord Avashight isn’t dumb (vocally or intellectually) my analogy to him and the lead character in Pete Townsend’s musical doesn’t strictly ring true. A comparison made even more threadbare by the fact his lordship is likely rubbish at pinball.
Footnote – Quiet clearly, as I’ve never put my theory to the test, an assertion Lord Avashight is rubbish at pinball is speculation. But, come on!! A Lhasa apso having the skillset to become a Bally table king is about as likely as…… Well, errrrrr….. Well, someone who’s deaf, dumb and blind attaining that competency level at the pastime….. Ok, ok, it’s possible, but highly bloody unlikely!!
Anyhow without the aforementioned eye mask, upon viewing his lordship’s own personally acted Royal Society for the Protection of Cruelty to Animals (RSPCA) commercial I’m putty in his paws. Consequently, at some juncture later today I’ll inevitably acquiesce to those dark peepers which are so tinged with (unwarranted) sadness.
Consequently, while he no doubt laughs at my expense behind his paws, this sucker will wander into the kitchen to fetch dog treats for him and his sister. The pair of them high-fiving each other at the success of the ruse when my back’s turned.
Balls, he’s heading towards me now. I’m off to put the eye mask on myself to avoid making eye contact with him….. Right then, where’s that pinball table?!…… Ouch, I’ve just stubbed my toe because of wearing this bloody eye mask….. Sodding emotionally blackmailing dog!!
