Dog Days


The services performed by a canine companion are innumerable. From warning off the feathered invaders of airspace and next door’s cat, to protecting you from passing postmen. They even regulate your days…

You wake from a nightmare to the sound of yet more rain battering the windows in the pitch blackness of way-too-early. Turn off the alarm (and its back-up) before the shriek rends the silence. You don’t have to be at work till eight, but for some reason, you are up by five to five.

Note from small dog:“‘Early to bed, early to rise’ and all that… it’s good for you. At this point of your day I have only your best interests at heart.”
“I never get to bed early…”
“Getting everything you want isn’t good for you…”

The reason for rising at this ungodly hour already has a tennis ball in place, just inside the living room door, whilst she, herself, is crouched with appalling alertness just beyond the legs of the dining chairs. Waiting.

Note from small dog: “See? You have to wake up fast to tackle an obstacle course…Only looking after your health here…”

Kick ball… it is retrieved in a trice. Cuddle animal then switch on kettle and computer. Throw coat over dressing gown… let’s face it, no-one else is daft enough to be out at that time of morning. And if they are, they are probably groggily on their way to work or enduring similarly enforced canine slavery. Anyway, it is too dark for anyone to see what an idiot you look, with your ankle boots flopping around naked legs and a foot of baby pink fleece showing below the waterproof.

Convince hound that this is no time to bark at the local wildlife. Then back to breakfast. Hers, not yours. You are still at the intravenous caffeine stage. Open back door, wait for dog to exit… dog waits for ball to be kicked… oblige and bring her back in… close it and repeat kicking ball each time, return to seat. Get up. Repeat at leisure. Close door repeatedly.

Note from small dog: “It’s called obedience training.”
“I think you’ve got the wrong end of the stick there…”
“I think not :)…”

You escape to work… leaving the forlorn little face with its big brown eyes that makes you feel guilty… and wait for the defiant single ‘woof’ as you close the car door.

By the time you get home, she is waiting by the kitchen expectantly. She has been a good girl. This means there will be a treat. Then the whole door malarkey again. Then walk, more balls, home, more balls… You eventually manage to make a cuppa. The small dog is there are the fridge opens. You go do put the milk away… she shuffles, pointedly licks her lips, and stands looking at her empty bowl. You share the milk. You will also share the cheese, the sandwich and anything else you happen to eat.

Note from small dog: “You’ve looked in the mirror lately?”
“Not if I can help it.”
“My point exactly…Portion control…”

You decide you’ve earned an hour’s R and R and head for the sofa. She beats you to it, taking whichever seat you were aiming for. You squeeze into place, lie back and close your eyes. A tennis ball is thrust in hand or face. Usually soggy.

Note from small dog: “Exercise is good for you…helps you sleep…”
“Not when I’m trying to sleep!”
“That’s exactly the best time…”

She finally realises you are not going to throw it more than once twice a few times. You are going to have a rest. She vaults up onto the sofa, picks her way across the back and her whiskers tickle as she snuggles her face against yours, one paw on your chest so you can’t steal away.

“So you know I’m there.”

That’s when everything else pales into insignificance.

About Sue Vincent

Sue Vincent is a Yorkshire-born writer and one of the Directors of The Silent Eye, a modern Mystery School. She writes alone and with Stuart France, exploring ancient myths, the mysterious landscape of Albion and the inner journey of the soul. Find out more at France and Vincent. She is owned by a small dog who also blogs. Follow her at and on Twitter @SCVincent. Find her books on Goodreads and follow her on Amazon worldwide to find out about new releases and offers. Email:
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42 Responses to Dog Days

  1. macjam47 says:

    I get the feeling that Ari rules the nest.


  2. Miriam says:

    Very nice. They really do govern our days don’t they? But I wouldn’t have it any other way, mostly.


  3. noelleg44 says:

    Who could resist that dog?


  4. I remember being out with Bonnie, the crazy Scottie pup. It’s three in the morning. Temperature around zero with a nice, brisk wind. I’m up to my hips in snow, wearing my Uggs, deep winter LL Bean coat … over my flannel night gown. Bonnie is bouncing through the drifts like a mad thing while I whimper “Please, please just go. Mommy is FREEEEZING.” She still loves snow as time marches on.


  5. C.E.Robinson says:

    Sue, yep, dogs are wonderful! Ani, such a treasure! 🐶 Chryssa


  6. Judy Martin says:

    That was a lovely post Sue. Ani does look out for your best interests I see, keeping you fit and active. The last bit was so touching, with you both snuggling up together on the settee. 🙂


  7. I’ve said this before, but the resemblance Ani has to Maggie is amazing. Makes me wonder if they’re related (collected from Axminster Farm March 2005 just in case!) Recognise too all the behaviour and habits, the cuddles, the lot. Comes with the territory of dog ownership, even the ‘pain in the butt’ bits. Wouldn’t be without her though. Lovely post Sue. Hope the pair of you got some shut eye. Maggie likes to snuggle too 🙂


  8. Congratulations on getting me to read posts about dogs


  9. adeleulnais says:

    This is so very true in every aspect. Our beautiful loving dogs wouldn`t be without em.


  10. jenanita01 says:

    I do miss having a furry companion. They are so much more than a friend… sniff


  11. Recognised so much of this, Sue! And laughed out loud a few times – particularly liked “intravenous caffeine stage” for some reason (I’m particularly tired tonight, perhaps!) 🙂 Go Ani!


  12. TanGental says:

    It’s a dogs life, Sue. Mine is by my feet,ball a nuzzle away waiting for to


  13. TanGental says:

    Comment madness there. I was about to say mine is waiting much like yours for my mid morning caffeine to take effect before we head back to the park. Love to Ani says Mylo and he feels her frustrations with her two legges


  14. She’s gorgeous – looks just like our little cocker spaniel Belle (who is also completely obsessed by tennis balls)


  15. Mary Smith says:

    Did it take Ani long to train you so well?


  16. “Enforced canine slavery” Ha ha. Oh, to live with the ball-obsessed.


  17. socialbridge says:

    Ani, you have it so well sussed about the early mornings. I’m learning from you, Love Stanny


  18. 😀 One large cat appears at my bedside every morning as the shipping forecast begins… They train us so well 🙂


  19. Eliza Waters says:

    Aw, isn’t it nice to be owned by a dog? 🙂


  20. KL Caley says:

    Funny and beautiful at the same time – lovely. ❤


  21. Our little furry friends do, indeed, rule the roost.

    I am able thread my Yorkie’s body language like a book, he knows this and he uses this knowledge to his advantage. He knows how to control my emotions and has no qualms whatsoever about doing so! Good job I love him to bits! 🙃


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