About Bo

Dog lover. Runner. Although very slowly. Keeping up with the stresses of running and life...

My friends are hurting…

Posted on August 30, 2011 by Bo

I suddenly realised the other day that my friends are hurting. They are sad. They are stressed out. Their hearts are shattered. They have the world on their shoulders. As much as they smile and laugh and try to cover up, deep down below the surface, they are all dealing with issues that are causing them great pain and unhappiness.

I sat down and wrote a list of what some of them are dealing with right now: Unhappy marriage, sick child, job strain, family crisis, unexplained body pains, unemployment, death of a loved one, depression, dying pet, relationship breakup, loneliness. It’s hectic!

These are serious, heavy issues. It’s no wonder a friend confided in me that she is too tired of it all and wishes she could just go sleep and never have to wake up again.

I was once told that it is wrong to think that only some people are hurting and that everyone else is happy. Because deep down, every single person is dealing with that one issue that is consuming them all day (and night) long. It makes sense now.

It hurts me to see my friends hurting, knowing that in most cases, there’s nothing I can do. It hurts me to know that for some of my friends, they see no solution, no positive outcome, no escape, no end in sight.

If only my friends knew how much they get me through my day. If only they knew the strength they give me to carry on. If only they knew that the strain and stress of life is made that much more bearable, just by knowing that they are there for me.

We all hurt … if only they knew.

All I can offer you right now is to kiss your wet nose…

Posted on August 28, 2011 by Bo

My suggestion to go to Wet Nose Day was met with some reluctance from KK. The excuses rolled off his tongue but I think the main reason he was not keen is because he was dreading it if I suddenly decided I wanted to adopt a dog and bring it home.

With a lot of convincing and the promise of a boerewors roll for lunch, off we went.

Most people are like KK. He finds animal shelters and places such as the SPCA unbearable. He does not like seeing the dogs, locked up in tiny cages, walking in their own urine and poo, with sad eyes begging for someone to love them. It was no different at the Wet Nose Animal Rescue Centre.

The cages were full of dogs. Some had been there for quite a number of years, others were new to the centre. There was a mix of pure-bred dogs, such as a sharpei and husky, as well as pavement specials. As with all characters in life, there were the extroverts who performed little tricks as you passed their cage, whilst the introverts kept to themselves and avoided eye contact. All of them just wanted love…

KK did one trip through the kennels but then opted to sit and wait on the grass while I did a second trip. The look on his face said it all.

I do understand that it’s not for everyone. I get that. But what he doesn’t understand is that I see it quite differently…

When I was 15, my sister and I volunteered at the SPCA. Every Saturday and one Sunday a month, we would get involved in office admin duties, assisting distressed owners who came looking for their lost pets, helping families to chose a new dog or cat to adopt or just documenting all dogs that came in and were reported as strays.

From my recollection, we saw more dogs and cats being adopted than those coming in as strays or being put down.

I think the many years of working at the SPCA somehow prepared me. It “hardened” me in a way to accept that cruelty is a part of everyday life.

It made me understand that as much as I don’t want to see it or be confronted with it, I cannot think that it doesn’t happen or doesn’t exist.

I take my hat off to places like Wet Nose, Animal Anti-Cruelty and SPCA who are doing everything they can, with limited funds, to take starving, sick or abused dogs off the streets and try to give them a better life.

I have a confession…

No, we did not come home with a dog. But I did choose one, just in case KK changed his mind (which he didn’t).

Here he is… His name is Moglee.

He’s too big for the dog flap in the kitchen. Perhaps a bit too heavy to lie on the couch. And I doubt Annie and Emma would appreciate a new family member without being consulted first.

But for a few moments as I stood, giving him a ‘love’, he was mine…

What’s the point of a formal lounge anyhow?

Posted on August 26, 2011 by Bo

One of my favourite rooms in my house is my formal lounge. It’s a beautiful room where the afternoon sun steams in and makes the wall colour change from shades of cream to light stone. It has one of the best quality leather lounge suites (which we spent a small fortune on) with a stunning Nguni skin on the floor and doors which open out onto the pool area.

Fabulous paintings by South African artists hang on the wall and on the main wall, a collage of family photographs is spread out. There are some really special ones too, including my grandparents wedding photograph of them in their Salvation Army uniforms (I kid you not!). There’s even one of my granny’s standard 3 school photo. My head floods with special memories when I stare at all those photographs.

The sad irony is that it’s the one room that I never use. In fact, in the last 8 years of living in our house, not once have we made use of this lounge. Never! It’s crazy!

We built our house off-plan and at that stage, majority of our friends were in the same life stage and doing the same thing. Building or renovating their houses. We all made sure we included a formal lounge. In fact, paging through copies of décor magazines, it just seemed like the “right thing” to have.

Years down the line, I am not sure that I understand the need for a formal lounge.

We rarely get visitors and even the ones that do come around I’ve always considered never “that important” that they need to be entertained in such a formal room. In fact, if our families do visit, they would never be “allowed” to use the lounge because they are not “important enough”. (and no, it’s got nothing to do with the fact that they do not use coasters)

What the hell does it all really mean? It hurts me to realize that one of the best rooms in my house, I don’t even share with the most important and special people in my life? That is wrong. Surely that’s not the way I should be treating my friends and loved ones? Isn’t everyone that comes to visit worth only the best I can give them? Would I not want to make everyone that comes to visit feel as important as possible?

So my formal lounge gathers dust. My maid religiously cleans it every week. And I have the sneaky suspicion that Annie and Emma (my dogs) sleep on the Nguni in the sun during the day. Buggers!

What a waste…

I think on Sunday, I will go read my book in the formal lounge. I’ll kick off my shoes, put my feet up and take my afternoon nap in the sun, surrounded by all those wonderful photographs. Sounds like a plan!

And the next time we have visitors, even if it is family *gasp*, that’s where we’ll be sitting! For a few minutes anyhow…

Two little girls in the bath

Posted on August 25, 2011 by Bo

My dogs are typical spoilt brats!

They live indoors, sleep on the couch, watch TV and get pork strips from Woolies as snacks before bedtime every night. I always say that when they look in the mirror, they see two little girl faces, not dogs.

They visit the dog salon every month. Washed, trimmed, nails cut, the works. It’s only in emergencies that I bath them myself. Last night was one such emergency.

My neighbour is painting his house. Every evening the painters rinse their paint brushes and tools at the garden tap in the corner of his garden. It just so happens that the washed off paint ran into our garden and the flower bed near to where the rotten tree stood.

With Annie & Emma playing in the garden, their little paws and in between their toes, became caked with paint.

I was so worried about the toxicity of the paint, I decided to bath them. Yes, in the nippy evening with the wind blowing. (hey, don’t judge me! At the time, it seemed like a good idea.)

Usually, when they see me preparing their bath, they go into a terrified state.They don’t run away but instead hang around my legs as if begging me to change my mind. The preparation sometimes takes longer than the bath. Hairdryer, towels, shampoo, brushes, treats. The build-up must be pure torture for them!

I usually start with Annie (my first-born as Queen, my maid, calls her). She’s the more hyper one so it’s best to get her bathed as quickly as possible. Poor Emma sits at my feet and occasionally leans over the bath to check up on Annie.

Sometime during the bath, I decided that this would make for a great blog post and so tried to take some pics with my Blackberry.

Not the cleverest idea and not the easiest of tasks. There I am hovering treats above my head, singing songs, whistling. All I got were dirty looks as they stood there shivering. (Please don’t report me to the SPCA).

Luckily my dogs are not good escape artists and stand patiently in the bath. They don’t mind the hairdryer afterwards while I brush knots out their hair. I think it’s because they know, the best part is yet to come – a full body massage. They love it!

Most of the paint washed off, but at least, for now, they smell clean and fresh and have soft fur, just like two little girls (and not dogs)!