I really enjoyed World Smile Day last week. You all know that I was so excited about it that I couldn’t wait until the actual day to start the smiling. I was pleased to make new friends – I haven’t visited all of you yet, but I will soon! It was lovely to see so many happy, smiling faces!
I love meeting people and making them smile when I’m out and about with my bipeds. I’m always careful to sit politely and wait for the people I meet to show they want to make a fuss of me. This is because I know some people feel nervous of me as I’m large. I also enjoy making my bipeds laugh and smile at home by doing funny things, but there is something that’s even more important to me – that is to protect my bipeds.
It’s hardly surprising that protecting them is so important to me when you consider that my ancestors have honed their protective abilities for generations by looking after livestock in the mountains. Although I’m always on the alert for potential danger, I’m pleased that there have been less than a pawful of occasions when I’ve found it necessary to do anything more than give a warning woof. I’d like to tell you about one of those today.
It was late on a summer evening and it was getting dark. I was at home with the female biped. The doorbell rang and I went with her to answer the door. The hall was wide and there was a space to the side of the door where I sat. I could see clearly, but whoever was at the door would have to look sideways to see me.
My biped opened the door and there was a man there. He said he was selling manure for the garden. My biped told him that she wasn’t interested, but the man continued to talk. My biped kept repeating that she wasn’t interested, but the man just kept on talking. After a minute or two he began to move closer and closer to the front door.
My biped spoke louder than she had been, “I have said NO”, and at the same time she began closing the door.
The man placed a hand on the door and moved one of his feet onto the step, stopping my biped from closing the door. Before she could react, I gave a slight growl and stood up. My biped moved the hand closest to me slightly away from her side with the palm facing me, our silent signal for “wait” – so I stood still.
The man noticed me for the first time and a look of horror crossed his face. He leapt backwards as suddenly as a frog jumps! He landed awkwardly on the path about four feet away. His legs seemed to be a bit wobbly as he hurried away, calling back over his shoulder, “I have to go!”
My biped put a hand on my neck and we watched him go out of the gate before she closed the front door. Then my biped bent over and made a huge fuss of me. She told me how clever and good I am. The strange thing is that she praised me more for taking notice of her signal to “wait” than she did for scaring the nasty man away! But biped logic can be very difficult to follow – I try not to worry about it. I’m always pleased to accept praise and treats!
Even though it was funny to see a biped jump like a frog, I’m glad that I can be friends with most of the bipeds I meet!
See you next Wednesday!