Pigorilla Power!
55
29 Sept – 11 Oct 2009
Slowly, but surely, the days are getting reeled in till, all things being equal; I will have my British passport in the sunny, wonderful, great July of 2010. It has been almost exactly three months till I stopped travelling around the world on a tin bucket and while the real world has its own challenges (like what to do), I am finding it extremely liberating to have the choices available to me that I currently have. I am not proud that, of all the things that I could be doing with an oyster of a world lying at my feet, that in my infinite wisdom I have chosen to do nothing but worry that I am doing nothing. It beats bouncing up and down on the high seas combobulating about how things are on land, but it is hardly grabbing the bull by the balls and asking it to cough.
It reminds me so much of a card given to me on one of my birthdays with the customary Orang-utan, scratching its head in the sunlight while looking perplexed, as only they can, with the caption, “Sometimes I sits and thinks, and sometimes I just sits”. It was exceptionally funny at the time, but somewhere deep in the labyrinth of grey matter within my thick skull, two synapses’ must have met, and with illuminated, astonished faces and incredulous comprehension, given a cracking “High-Five” somewhere between my ears and the plan to sit and think, and other times to just sit, was born.
In my sitting and thinking, I occasionally trawl the web for interesting other thoughts and at other times I look for applications for my iPhone. Most of the ones I have, have not been used, but I never download anything that I don’t think I will ever use. My barriers to entry for applications onto my iPhone hard drive are soon to toughen up as my available memory contracts.
For weeks we have had a puppy that does not respond to anything except the look of horror that it manufactures on our faces (and the accompanying wail) when it squats down to have a wee or steaming pint-sized poo (pint as in “small”....it is not a bear). The down-side of these situations for poor little Molly is that she is now terrified to relieve herself at all and even on a long walk will hold it all in until she is in the comfort of her home on the lovely thick, new carpet.
Another problem with Molly is that calling her name is an immediate command, it appears, for her to run away from you as fast as she can, and the shriller or more aggressively her name is called, the faster she runs. My excitement was breathless in its nature when during one of my searches for applications for my iPhone; I found a high-frequency whistle! Finally a way to get molly to come to me when necessary! I always research the applications I am to download and was pleased to see that this one had been down-loaded millions (literally) of times! I downloaded it, and at times am quite sure that Molly can hear it, but she doesn’t seem to know where the sound is coming from and soon loses any interest in the sound at all. I’m not sure what the whistle was designed for, but the purpose is lost on me.
While “Reliable Interior Projects” has yet to do its first job outside of the family, “Private Computer Classes” is slowly taking shape, and I should have some solid advertising going out by the end of next week. If that little business takes off, the idea is that the next nine months will fly off the shelf quicker than free sweets in a candy store and before I know it, I will be languishing in the marina in St Tropez, in my Jacuzzi, watching my staff polish my motor yacht while I get my trapezius’ rubbed tenderly by a delectable Estonian masseuse......what dreams may come.
I took Molly, for a walk with a new found friend the other day and despite the gorgeous untainted forests, lovely wells and fine company, it ended in tears. Molly was investigating a “treat” that her new friend had been given by his owner, when all of a sudden, Fido (not his real name) stopped seeing little twelve week old defenceless Yorkie and all he could see was something trying to take his treat. Molly was bowled over and was screaming and running for her life with blood pouring out her ear which was now torn by Fidos teeth, but he was not looking like he was going to get any satisfaction until she was dead. A man whose child had been playing with Molly came rushing in to assist...in my haste I nearly barged him into the nearby lake, but with Fidos owner we managed to prise Molly free, not before Fidos owner took a nip herself. I was surprised that Fido was not satisfied with the damage that he had done and despite Molly still crying in my arms, Fido was still trying to attack her. I’m not sure how I should have felt about this at the time, because at that moment all I was thinking about was keeping her out of harms way. Now that I have had time to think about it, I see Fidos continued attacks as a direct threat to my pack-leader domination of the group (as the oldest, biggest male present).
I was very disappointed that this happened on my watch. Admittedly, dog fights are always a little disconcerting, but had Fido not been my friends’ dog, he would have ended up with a good couple of hefty kicks and still be nursing a few broken ribs. As it turned out, he ended up getting away with the attack in its entirety. Hopefully Molly will be a little more circumspect in choosing her friends in future.....it’s a mistake we have all made.
I thought I would finish off this little update on The Pigorilla and the strife we call life with this uplifting poem I will call....
The Heat of the Street
Sometimes, you write and write and with no end in sight
You think of your plight and get no respite
With all of your might, you consider your rights
And fall back on your face to the delight of the race
How many times can you get up to rhymes
When you are beaten to the ground by information profound
When your mind is going batty trying to fight reality
When you’re scatty, natty, ratty and downright blatty
With your only weapon......Imagination?
The golden leaves fall heavily on my uneven path.
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