I don’t care what any tone deaf skin says – I am a great singer! My songs are tuneful and melodic, with a haunting sound that stays with you when you hear it.
This morning mom got up at the crack of dawn as usual, she has so far to travel to work, and took us for a walk across the fields. Jess refused to go, as she sometimes does because she’s a lazy lump and a bit grouchy in the morning. Me and Alf are always willing to go for a walk at any time so we set off.
It was really nice this morning, grass wet with dew, the sun beaming its warming rays down to us as if it was saying “Good Morning!” and the autumnal air so crisp you could snap it over your knee. Alfie shot off at his usual lighting pace, I was happy trailing behind because he cleared a path for me as he arrowed through the longer grass. Alfie stops every so often to make sure he can see mom and to make sure I’m ok; he’s my big brother so I don’t mind him being over protective, but I can take care of myself.
Eventually we arrived home wet and panting. Mom had put me in my playpen after a good drink of water, where I usually stay until dad drags his lazy butt out of his pit. I like my playpen (or pigpen as dad calls it) because my favourite blanket is in there for me to curl up on and there are some great toys for me to chew. It’s actually a child’s playpen so there’s plenty of room in there. After a walk I curl up on the blanket and catch some zzzz’s. Dad likes me in there when he’s upstairs because it stops me chewing everything I can get my jaws around.
Now Jess decided she wanted a walk, she’s more of a brat than me and I’m a puppy! Mom said she would take her along the lane at the back of the houses, as she didn’t really have time to go across the fields until she got back from work. Alf was jumping up and down like a Jack in the Box, “Me too, me too, take me too!” So big softy mom said Alf could tag along, a second morning walk!?!?!? That’s not fair, I was just settling down for a snooze until I realised what was happening, but by then it was too late. They were gone, I was alone….well apart from him upstairs but he would be fast asleep. I don’t like being the only one, I wanted Alf to be there while I slept. I felt really sad.
I decided that because I felt so low, I should put my feelings into a song. A sad song that one day would be on the radio and a million tears would well up in a million sets of eyes, a million hearts would ache with there own loneliness as they knew how I felt. It went something like this:
The yips soared high and the whoos dipped low and the whole world stopped to listen; to it’s simplicity, to its beauty, to its glorious harmonic grandeur. A banging on the ceiling suggested that dad had heard and was joining in with percussion. That’s it dad, feel the song in your soul! I heard him come across the landing like a low rumble of thunder and realised he was coming to duet with me, he was very welcome. This was going to be amazing! I wondered what he was going to bring, would he join in the yipwhoos or harmonise with his own lyrics? I sang louder as he burst into the room, waiting for him to take his cue.
What he added to the mix, wasn’t exactly what I had in mind. “WHAT THE BLOODY HELL IS THAT NOISE? SHUT UP DOG!!!!” His words hung in the air like smoke, even after he left the room and thundered back upstairs. I sat in the pen and pondered it all: hmm, he’ll have to work on his scales if he wants to be my baritone.