I wished the camera was within reach.
As the kettle boiled I had opened the door for Ani to go out and prepared her breakfast. Calling her in I watched, astonished, as she skidded to a halt and began the low, warning growl at her breakfast bowl. Spider, I thought. They are everywhere.
I checked, but no, nothing.
Ani is still growling, advancing, pawing at the ground like a small horse and retreating.
I pulled everything out again… checked all round… not a thing. I could see no reason for it.
Ani has by this point retreated to the living room, within sight of the bowl. Her nose is wet, her mouth says yes, favourite breakfast… but she won’t go near it and is whining. I sit on the cold floor in my dressing gown and show her it is okay.
She advances… but not too close, continually growling with that low, worried rumble. I pick up the bowl and she scarpers to a safe distance, howling quietly. Maybe a field mouse has come in, or a big beetle? A frog? Goodness knows…
She takes the morsels and wolfs them down. Not the food itself then. Weird. I advance the bowl again… she retreats further, pawing and growling.
I can’t understand it… there is nothing different, no changes… nothing at all to worry her, yet she is obviously very worried by something….
I look at the bowl from my ground level view… and then I understand.
The two pale golden capsules hidden in her food… capsules she had eaten with no problem every day for the past week… are catching the light and sticking up slightly from the surface.
Like eyes, perhaps…?
A quick stir and they are out of sight. I try again, she creeps in slowly and wolfs her breakfast after a cautious sniff.
My dog is officially a chicken…
… and I was chuckling away at the daft thing for quite some time. Her sheepish ‘thank you’ after breakfast sort of said it all.
She’s not having the best of days. The washing machine decided to pack up and spew soap suds all over the floor, billowing everywhere… This wouldn’t be too bad (apart from my own consternation) but she’s always liked helping with the laundry…
Last seen she was hiding under the sofa cushions, which, to complete her discomfiture, I have stripped of covers to go in the wash… hmm. That could be tricky…
Still, she is buried and not coming out. Daft animal.
Except… that is unfair. From the small dog’s perspective some arcane creature had taken up residence in her bowl and was looking back at her with a pale golden stare. She was genuinely worried about something she simply didn’t understand. It was outside her experience and made no sense to her. Then the friendly washing machine attacked her.
I can’t say she is alone in being scared by what she has not had to face before and fails to comprehend. It must be a feeling we are all familiar with at some stage of our lives and I suppose we might all end up feeling sheepish or looking as funny as Ani did to outsiders who can see the fear for what it is.
Me, I was supposed to be having a quick clean up, strip the sofa and curtains then get out into the garden… yeah, right. Where’s the screwdriver…