Humans are deeply illogical.
In my park, the one where I walk every day for my allotted exercise (some terrible fascist Owner formula decrees that I cannot pull her around the part for more than 15 minutes twice a day lest she wear out) there is a certain illogic.
There is a pond. Despite being home to several inexplicably floating ducks with rather insulting faces it is magical, smelling gloriously of ripe rot, and as we reach it I sink into the Bliss of the Nose, a trance-like state which not even the plaintive cries of the Owner can penetrate. I leap into the glorious waters and the ducks scatter satisfyingly, but when I rush out to share my scent, she becomes oddly unaffectionate, starting a new game of hiding behind a tempting orange ring. Thrilled, I attempt to drag the ring away, but it seems this too is forbidden. It is, she tells me, reserved for retrieving small humans from the pond.
I am mystified for at least four reasons.
Firstly, there have been no small humans to retrieve. I try to indicate that I hope someone will throw one in soon, but she fails to comply and indeed gets out the lead when I attempt to fetch a small human myself.
Secondly, I do not understand the purpose of ducks. To float is to cheat.
Thirdly, the orange ring defies the whole point of having a dog. Why would you want to have an orange ring if, upon throwing small humans into the pond, you have an available dog?
Fourthly, why have a pond if its only real use is as a float for insulting and pointless ducks? It seems to create endless opportunities to worry about the small humans you throw in without any real benefit, given that you do not trust passing dogs to retrieve them.
Human beings seem to lack foresight. They are building some sort of railway line to the north, which seems to betray the same lack of foresight as the pond. It sounds as if everyone involved in that needs rescuing too.
Don’t look at me. I’m on a lead.
Hergest the Hound
I am a dog of many thoughts.