The Tales of Lilly The Mud Life Dog

The Tales of Lilly, The Mud Life Dog

Birthday Girl

by Karen Lee Turner

The big number on the page may give you a clue to the age Lilly turned on the 4th of September. Yes, she is now six, middle-aged in dog years.

If the experts are correct she's 42-ish in human years and, like me once I hit my forties, she has aches and pains. When she has a mad run around with her mates she feels it later, but, unlike me,she doesn't let it put her off doing the mad zoomies (not that I've ever done mad zoomies).

The consequences of the exhuberance is that later in the day, after a few hours of happy snoozing, when she gets up she does a hop-a-long routine involving a lifted leg, sad eyes and sly glances towards her treat jar of bangers. Strangely, when said treat is released into her mouth, the hopping vanishes as she runs off to eat her sausage on her bed.

Obviously this is proof that with age has come wisdom - the wisdom to know how to play us. She knows exactly what she wants and whose button to push to get it.

For Damian it's the 'Stare of Devotion'. This involves staring intently at him from across the room until he looks - she would definitely win the no-blink game against the best in the world.

If the stare doesn't get her desired result, she moves closer. Like the weeping angels in Doctor Who, you never actually see her move, she just gets closer, then closer still, until she has her head in his crotch and big brown puppy eyes burning into his soul.

Damian is powerless to resist (I mean look at that face, could you?), and her goal, usually a walk or possibly a sneaky chip, is achieved.

She occasionally tries the 'Stare of Devotion' on me, but it's not her preferred method. I think she knows that the stare is more powerful on the fragile male psyche, and that women can be a bit more stubborn. Nowadays I know when she trying to manipulate me, but only because I learned from past experience...

I tend to put this mag together in the wee small hours when Damian and Lilly have gone to bed. My desk is the kitchen table, which means that I am tempted to have a snack or two whilst tapping away. Lilly learned rather quickly that if she heard me open crinkly food wrappers, and she got out of bed and ran downstairs, she would be rewarded with a blackmail 'get-back-to-bed' treat.

Once I realised her game - that she was training me to be her midnight snack dealer - I nipped it in the bud. The moment I heard her jump off the bed and come down, I just turned to her and said "No.", at which point she would stand like a statue in the kitchen for a few minutes just to see if my resolve would weaken. When it didn't she would head off back to bed.

It only took a couple of nights before she stayed at the top of the stairs waiting to see if the "No" would come, and nowadays she doesn't even bother to get up. I can now eat the entire kitchen in peace (not that I do... obviously).

She may not get food treats with her ruses anymore, but she does have one trick that works on me to get her what she wants, and it's called 'Belly Control'.

If I am not giving her the attention that she 'knows' she deserves, she will lay down close to me and unleash her slightly furry midriff directly in my eye line.

It starts with a huffy sigh, then an overly dramatic drop to the floor (it works best on the wooden lounge floor as it sounds painful too), then a slight roll over to reveal the only bit of her I cannot resist - the pinkie bit and belly beans!

The pinkie-bit is not, as you may have incorrectly thought, the naughty bit, it's the part of her underbelly that is sparse of fur, so much so that you can actually see the pink skin. Belly beans are her black nipples that contrast perfectly with her fawn fur, and look like liquorice jelly beans, hence the name.

I am an absolute sucker, for the Belly Trick, she has ultimate control and she knows it. One flash and I stop whatever I am doing and head to the floor with a goofy grin on my face, and an outstretched arm. I am her slave!

So, many happy returns to our gorgeous furry overlord, who rules our every moment, and as I write this her present, a new stuffed duck, is primed for it's birthday disembowelling.