Sunday, 26 January 2014

amores perros

Meet Tom.

Tom is a hulking mass of canine goodness.  A gypsy in a former life, he was found wandering the streets of Cardiff two years ago, rummaging through bins and back gardens for his meals.  He almost was the dog that wasn't, as his boisterous bouncing nearly bowled over dear Granny, most honorable member of the Committee to Acquire Canines.  But after eighty plus years, nails have nothing on this lady for toughness.  This woman breathes wisdom.  She declared yes; that was that.  Tom the greyhound was rescued, adored, cherished forevermore.  Aside from a gluten intolerance (yessiree, a canine celiac), an adeptness for thievery and an unfortunate penchant for sheep, there's nary a bad word spoken about this phosphorescent hound.

Quite the opposite.  Tom forces you to take time.  Time spent outside, time preparing meals, time companionably lounging, time recording memories, time living now.  One of my favorite things about my love's family home is losing touch with The Screens.  Mobile?  Haven't seen it for hours.  Laptop?  Around somewhere, I imagine.  Most recent episode of Girls?  Perhaps, but there's newspapers to read, board games to play and an omnipresent set of ears that need scratching and photographing.  Tom may not be the cause of my de-techification, but he's certainly a catalyst.

'Borrowing' a dog has taught me the Midlands better than my own beloved Texas hills.  Feeding the  need for novel canine stomping grounds has led to many a fine field and riverside.  This dog has taught me new ways to communicate, to speak to animals, if you will, and a lot more about my in-laws in the process.  Ears perk instantly at the call to tumpies (supper).  Vigorous wagging ensues at the mention of  butwanajits or bindy (sausages and bacon).  Anxiety is soothed by slowly murmuring, "Stoooooooooooooooones, Tommy.  Woooooooooooooooooooooooooooods."

 Copious wandering?  Exotic languages?
Why, owning a dog is a holiday.

(Dog owners, allow me to indulge.)

I believe, I may give up everything for one of these to call my own.  No more constant nomading, no more life of crossing continents, no more chasing the unknown 'round the next bend.  All for a hopeful pair of eyes, an extra swish of a tail and a daintily drawn out snout.  

Wouldn't that be practical?  Wouldn't that be gaining more than losing?


Tom helps me work:

Tom helps me play:

Sorry, I meant outdoors.

He obviously loves fashion, no?  I'm smitten.  With conviction, I do solemnly swear:

I want a dog.

What about you?  What do you romanticise about?

A tune to help you ponder...

- xx

[Photos by my love and I]

First outfit: Vintage blouse, vintage levis, vintage brogues
Second outfit: Vintage Gloverall duffle coat, Free People sweater, vintage Victorian slip, vintage boots 

1 comment:

  1. To top this off, listen to 'Poetry Please' for Sunday January 26th on BBCR4 as Helen Mort reads her poem The Dogs (about 20:18 in)
    or read it at


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