Tuesday, September 20, 2011

Singing the Bulldogge Blues

Apparently, it is Very Hard Being Dorothy.  I’m not sure why this is so, since she seems to live a life of relative luxury.  She gets served delicious foodstuffs and treats throughout the day.  She has so many beds to choose from – be they human, canine, or feline – that my apartment has even been referred to as the Land of 100 Beds.  She has a comfy crate, a large collection of toys to play with, bones to chew upon, two cat siblings to torment, and a ready supply of admirers right outside her building door. 

But apparently this is not good enough.  For lately, Dorothy has taken to lying under furniture and singing the blues.  “I want a little sugar in my bowl,” she’ll sing.  “I want a little sweetness down in my soul.  I could stand some lovin' Oh so bad, I feel so funny and I feel so sad.”  And all this takes the form of a disembodied whine/howl coming out from under the couch, say.

Or the dresser.  Or the bed.  And if we should not immediately pay attention to her song and join in and harmonize on the refrain while trying to entice her out with sweetmeats, she will stick her head out to make her song louder and get our attention.

I want a little steam
On my clothes
Maybe I can fix things
up so they'll go
Whatsa matter Daddy
Come on, save my soul
Need some sugar in my bowl
I ain't foolin'
I want some sugar in my bowl.

Could it be existential angst?  When she sings these blues, she doesn’t need to go out, or eat kibble, or exercise.  I suppose it could be an attention thing, because of course, attention must be paid to such a bulldogge.

You been acting different
I've been told
Soothe me
I want some sugar in my bowl.

My other guess is that it could be one of the ways she fights sleep.  Like a toddler, Dorothy seems to get angry when she gets tired.  She is all:  OMG!  I feel like collapsing on the floor!  What could be wrong with me?!  And:  my eyelids keep closing down over my eyes!  I’m sure I’m dying! 

She will whine when she is tired, and do everything she can to keep from giving up the ghost and lying down for a nap.  And singing the blues seems to be a great way to keep herself (and anyone else in the vicinity) awake. 

At least she doesn’t own a drum set.  Or bagpipes….

Whatsa matter Daddy
Come on save my soul
I want some sugar in my bowl
I ain't foolin'
I want some - yeah - in my bowl.

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