The Olympic Games are at the starting blocks and here at the office we are very excited about it. Well, that is all of us except that “stick in the mud” cat Raven.
I understand sport is not everyone’s game, but surely Raven has to be inspired by watching the athletes compete? For those who get a medal, it is a brilliant sense of fulfilment and for the not so lucky, disappointment is written all over their faces.
Some of the events like the 100 metres are over in a flash, with years of hardship and training all coming down to a few short seconds. Some last a little longer, but all are the finale for many hours of determination, fighting obstacles and challenging personal bests.
Of course when I suggested to Raven he would never make the Olympic team because he lacks the mental strength required to be a top athlete… WOW, did that have him making a record breaking leap off his window sill to chase me!
Anyway, over lunch the other day we all imagined what event we would be best suited to, that is, if the magic Olympic fairy flew down and blessed us all with athletic talents.
Lola was certain she was best suited to wrestling and she liked the idea of lying down and rolling about on a mat. Sparky definitely saw himself as a little sprinter, scooting down the track to international glory. Tabby, without a doubt, would be the high jumping queen.
As for me, I think something a little more sedate would suit me. Maybe an Official, with one of those bright flags or a medal bearer.
Only days to go now and with the bang of the starting gun we will be on the sofa, snacks at the ready, remote in hand and all set to enjoy the 2012 Olympic Games.
Good luck athletes, embrace the spirit of the games.
Raven, the superior cat, was sunning himself on the office window sill, but instead of minding his own business and tending to his cat affairs, he leans over to me and meows “What is it with you dogs and balls?”
That cat doesn’t make random comments for the sake of it. His main purpose in life is to wind me up, which he does constantly due to his unique ability to regularly push my doggie buttons.
Anyway, what motivated Raven to ask this question was his annoyance at having his lazy slouchy life interrupted by our barking mad excitement with the European Football Championship.
But back to his question, and in defence of dogs, it’s not only us that like the moving ball. Round balls, oval balls, bowling balls, big basketballs, small golf and tennis balls, they all have VERY big followings and not just by chasing dogs!
Sparky, my intelligent doggie buddy told me once that we run after balls because we have a special canine ball chasing gene. It comes from our wild dog forefathers and a time when dogs had to chase everything that moved, in order to eat.
That said, I have attempted to eat the odd ball, but they really don’t compare to a Subway bun. Which leads me to ask the question, which is better – chasing a ball or the smell of food? A dog’s dilemma!
All of which now leaves me quite confused. If dogs chase balls because they think they’re prey, that doesn’t explain why people dress in matching clothes, call themselves teams and run around chasing an object they’ve no intention of eating, licking or burying.
I guess when all is said and done; I prefer to see myself as a sharp-minded dog who is always on the ball. However, when I provided this response to Raven, he scoffed at me, and left me no alternative but to go on and tell him - “Raven, the reason we dogs chase balls, is to stop us from chasing cats!”
With that Raven was gone.
Raven’s talk of the Queen being a cat got me thinking about pets in power.
As puppies we have little control over our destiny and where we go for our forever homes. Most of us find a wonderful life, but some don’t. And then, there are a chosen few who land on all paws as they take up residence in homes like Buckingham Palace and The White House.
We got to see a bit of the Queen’s corgis over the Jubilee, but I did think wearing a crown all day and having to sit on the palace cushion while the Queen takes tea, all a bit undogly.
Not to mention how they must be feeling with Kate and Will’s royal Cocker Spaniel hot on their heels to replace them as the monarchy’s breed of choice.
On the other side of the ocean, there is The First Dog Bo-bama who has the run of the White House. Bo-bama is permanently dressed for the occasion in black tail and white glove paws. Presidential accounts report him as a priceless asset to the household, like all us dogs.
Yet any talk of pet power would not be complete without mention of my fellow dogs who have the power of sight for their blind owners, work security to defend our borders and go to war and patrol our streets - all heroes.
But, there is another tale that meows volumes about pet power - Larry, a tabby tomcat stray, found wandering the London streets was placed in a rescue shelter. With a future uncertain and no home to call his own, the only power he had - was hope.
And as the saying goes, hope springs eternal - the staff from 10 Downing Street came calling and chose Larry to go home with them to live with the Prime Minister.
I hear it is a happy pet-nership even though the rumour on Raven’s cat-vine is that Larry firmly holds the seat of power.
However, all summed up, in or out of power, pet power is all the same – it’s fuelled by unconditional love and it’s offered freely.
We have had a jubilantly royal week, complete with queen cakes, princess frocks, crown jewels and prancing corgis. And while Queen Elizabeth may have held centre stage on the world screen, here at the office, we have had our own Royal Highness Raven being nothing but a drama Queen!
Raven, King of the Window Sill, has been a right royal sour puss, who being less than enthralled with the Jubilee celebrations, announced to us all, that the Queen is a cat!!
I think Raven’s attitude has something to do with the fact that the Queen loves dogs and horses and is not known to keep a cat at the Palace.
Anyway, he took it upon himself to write a poem about why he believes she is a cat!
The Queen is a cat because she’s always busy and this we know
Because we’ve seen Queen busy Lizzy at the Chelsea flower show
As silent as a puss, she glides through the blooms, smelling as she goes
Sniffing fragrances, purring contentedly and holding up her royal nose
They sometimes call her a Monarch, but she’s not a butterfly
She waves, not flutters, from her carriage as she passes by
Even when riding her horse, she sits upright as straight as a cat,
Making every jump without once, losing her riding hat
The Queen is a purrfect lady, proper and polite
Sleek as a feline, groomed morning and night
She has her own servants - just as it should be!
The only odd thing about her, is liking the corgi
The female cat is called a Queen
That is the way it has always been
So the Queen is a cat -
And that is that!!
But whether Raven is right or wrong, to keep the peace in the office we all agreed, cat or dog, the Queen is the Bees knees.
We’ve decided to get into the sprit of things for Queen Elizabeth’s Diamond Jubilee. After all, 60 years reign is a long time. I struggle with being on a rein for an afternoon walk, let alone being on one for 60 years!!
You have to admire the Queen, the throne looks really uncomfortable and having to balance a crown on your head while carrying out the royal duties can’t always be a barrel of laughs. It really is a far yelp from a comfy old chair and a juicy bone.
Of course, His Royal Highness Raven, the superior cat who knows all things, reminded Lola and I that female cats have always been Queens! I mean, how could we forget that?
Anyway, back to us dogs. Lola and I are getting ready to celebrate the Jubilee and while I concentrate on the important things like making sure the royal fridge is stocked, Lola gets distracted by her fascination with the crown jewels and quietly disappears down the back stairs to hunt through the treasure chests of jewels stored in the dungeons below our office (sometimes I think Lola is part cat!).
Why is it, I ask you, that we males can be lured by the thought of a hearty dinner and some fun company, but girls, like our Lola, insist on making it hard work by over exciting themselves with searching for clothes and jewels to wear?
Lola will tell you, that the Jubilee is a really special occasion and she needs a very special outfit, one fit for the Queen. But I’m left standing shaking my head at that.
However, it didn’t take long before Lola jubilantly emerged from the treasure chests below, covered in diamonds and all things sparkly. She was a vision of royal bejewelled loveliness and no one could stop smiling at her… not even Raven!
Our little princess Lola, how bright she shone, the most precious of gems.
Bring on the Jubilee I say!
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