The Little Black Dog

I’m not sure that I like some dogs. There is a huge creature that lives near us and I dread meeting it when I walk the LBD. The owner seems to be responsible and the mastiff-shaped dog is always muzzled. Even so, I reckon it would really hurt my old girl if it broke the hold the human has on it. This arvo, when I ‘met’ them (through really bad planning on my part – I thought they wouldn’t be home yet), I had a good look at the dog. I think he might be a pit-bull or similar.

Stella doesn’t seem to care one way or the other, she trots along next to me and greets the dogs that she feels like talking to, or those that are smaller; then she can show her superiority by sort of towering over them. However, I notice that she doesn’t leave her mark anywhere on that particular route. Usually she marks her territory like a male dog and even lifts her leg, then scratches back the sand. Sometimes she lifts both back legs and does the doggy equivalent of a handstand! Now that she is older she has some tricks to slow down the walk: she’ll start limping so that I can stop and inspect her paw, many pee stops are another ruse. I told Roland that I don’t take her for a walk, I take her for a pause. Pretty poor pun but it makes me smile.

When Rosie was born, the LBD took it upon herself to be the nanny. LBD wasn’t quite so maternal with Lily. Both the girls love the little black dog and lots of cuddles are exchanged (‘no kissing’ is the one rule I’ve imposed). For a long time, before Lily was born, Rosie was convinced that Stella was her sister, after all they had the same kind of hair – lots of curls. I reminded Rosie about that the other day and she looked at me with disbelief. “Granny” she said, “Stella is a DOG!”

The LBD
The Little Black Dog

Life is a story

Carl Jung

In  Memories, Dreams, Reflections, Jung tells of his life as a story having no beginning and no end. That it was an historical fragment, an excerpt. He said, “My life seemed to have been snipped out of a long chain of events, and many questions had remained unanswered”. How does this philosophy correspond to the way I see my own life? So many things occur during life, it can be seen as a chain of events.

Looking at life as a chain, positive thoughts of links and connections arise – but also thoughts of restrictions, fetters and shackles. Who chains the shackles on us? I have a suspicion that, much of the time, we do that all by ourselves! How do we cast off the chains? Once again, we need to do that all by ourselves. In the event there are connections and shackles, links and restrictions; the unanswered questions persist and the mystery is profound.

Life is a story