Things I don't Understand About Humans #2

When it comes The Bed it’s all very confusing. By The Bed I mean the big comfy raised rectangle thing - all fluffy pillows and bouncy duvet - where Humum and The Frenchman sleep. Not the small not-so-comfy-round-thing on the floor where I am supposed to sleep – that’s Edie’s Bed. I know this because on a regular basis I am told ‘Get off The Bed. Bad girl. Go to Edie’s Bed.’

You might be thinking that if I’ve been told this numerous times, I should know by now not to attempt to infiltrate The Bed, and to stick to Edie’s Bed. And well I might, if it weren’t for the following:

1. When Humum is away and it’s just The Frenchman and me at home, I’m allowed to sleep on The Bed, although I’m told ‘Don’t tell Mummy you're on The Bed’.

2. When The Frenchman is away and it’s just Humum and me at home, I’m allowed to sleep on The Bed, although I’m told ‘Don’t tell Daddy you're on The Bed'.

3. When both Humum and The Frenchman are in The Bed and it’s nearing ‘Change The Sheets Time’ I’m allowed on The Bed. As in ‘Oh come on then, you might as well come on The Bed, it is nearly time to change the sheets.’

4. If I get on The Bed nearing ‘Change The Sheets Time’ when nobody else is on The Bed, I’m still told to get off The Bed, and to go to Edie’s Bed.

5. If I get on The Bed in the days (usually a maximum of five) following Change The Sheets Time, I am subjected to a much severer bollocking then at any other time when I'm not supposed to be on The Bed. The frustrating thing for me being that I am never aware when these particular days are because I am not usually in the bedroom during Change The Sheets Time and so I don’t know when it’s happened. To me The Bed always looks the same, changed sheets or not, so it’s always an extra shock when I’m told ‘Get off the bed. Bad girl, we’ve just changed the sheets.’

6. Even if I’m on The Bed at a time I’m allowed to be, I’m still not allowed Under The Sheets. Under The Sheets is totally forbidden. This is a real shame because, devoid of light and sound, Under The Sheets is by far the comfiest part of The Bed. Illicit duvet diving has therefore become of my favourite sport, guaranteed to set my adrenalin pumping. I can’t stop myself from doing it, even though I know it will entail me being chucked off The Bed even at times when I would otherwise be allowed on The Bed.

7. Sometimes when I get on The Bed at a time when I’m not supposed to be on it, I am told ‘Get off The Bed, how would you like it if we got in Edie’s Bed?’ This doesn’t help me to understand why I shouldn’t be on The Bed, because it wouldn’t make any difference to me if Humum or The Frenchman got in my bed. I would simply find somewhere else to sleep, like The Sofa or The Armchair or The Rug. Actually I would be quite amused if they tried to get in Edie’s Bed because it’s not big enough for even half of one of them. And they wouldn’t like it because I never Change The Sheets.

So humans, please realise, us dogs don’t follow your crazy bed unlogic. For us it’s yes or no. On or off. You either always let us on The Bed or you never let us on The Bed. That way we would finally understand.

Spring Is Here - Time To Go Potty!

Whilst Humum and The Frenchman have been busy planting seeds and preparing the garden for Spring, I thought I 'd give them a helping hand.

Things I Don't Understand About Humans #1

Why do humans waste so much time and energy training their dogs to do their business (or as my Humum embarrassingly calls it, our ‘empties’) outside? When we do eventually ‘empty’ in the correct place they rush over, often bending down behind us whilst we’re mid-empty, their plastic-bagged claw hovering like a hungry hawk distractingly close to our rear ready to whip its prey into the nearest waste receptacle faster than you can say Dr Poolittle. If they are going to grab and drop, why go to all the bother of making us do it outside in the first place? Surely that’s the equivalent of them emptying into the toilet bowl, fishing it back out again and dumping it down the waste disposal? Madness. Je ne comprends pas!

It's That Time Again - Merde!

ALL THIS BLOGGING & TWEETING CAN GET A DOG DOWN...

"Talking Dog" at The New Venture Theatre, Brighton

Last week I had the pleasure of attending a rehearsal for 'Talking Dog', which opens at The New Venture Theatre, Brighton, on Saturday 10 December.

I've chewed my way through many an ounce of rawhide at rehearsals for various shows and events at the NVT (where Humum often performs). But, when I saw Talking Dog, bones were the last thing on my mind. As I entered the theatre it sounded like there were dogs everywhere. However, when I looked around, apart from me there was only Daisy, the director's long haired Jack Russell, soundo on the stage manager's lap.



So where were all the barks and whines coming from? You could've knocked me down with a rabbit-flavoured twizzle stick when I realised the human actors were quite literally 'talking dog' - and behaving like them too! Unused to being around humans who can talk dog, naturally I wanted to join in. Unfortunately, barking and jumping up at the actors wasn't conducive to the rehearsal process, but my reaction confirmed they had succeeded in their anti-anthropomorphism, much to the delight of director Sarah Davis.

When I'd calmed down, I spoke to professional performer and drama-teacher, Davis, about the show:

"It started out as just a title based on a joke a friend had told me about a talking dog," says Davis. "I also had a method and a way of collectively devising I wanted to put to the test."

All she needed then was four willing and brave performers, a massively creative and supportive crew and a Great Dane-sized leap of faith.

The result is a unique piece of theatre that engages and transports the audience on a shared magical storytelling extravaganza using puppetry, mask and a good yarn to tug at your heart strings. More specifically it is the tale of Eddy the dog who travels through his local woods to seek out Crow, the Angel of Death. Eddy's doggy sense informs him that his beloved owner, Mrs Wilson, is soon to die. Having been her loyal companion for many years, he wants to be allowed to make the final journey with her. Along the way Eddy recalls memories of those humans he has loved and lost, such as Mr Wilson and Marty their son, and of significant dogs he has known, in preparation to answer Crow's question. He is familiar with the myth of Brindle the Original Dog and knows that upon meeting Crow, he must answer its questions successfully. Only then will he stand a chance of succeeding in his wishes.

I told Sarah that the thing I find most exciting and original about the show is the fact that all the human characters are in full face mask and are therefore silent. Only the animals can talk.

"Most performers rely heavily on facial expressions, gaze and voice," says Sarah. "In Talking Dog all these elements are removed with full-faced mask, alongside much of one's sight."

After rehearsals I was lucky enough to hang out with the cast, Claire Armstrong, Mark Green, Frank Leon and Leanne McKenzie at the dog-friendly Temple Bar across the road from the theatre. In return for crisps, strokes and tickle-bellies I gave them some tips on begging and slobbering and even demonstrated some real-life butt-sniffing with the hot Spaniel at the next table. After exchanging butt-scents, I asked said Spaniel if he'd like to come to the theatre with me to see Talking Dog. He called me a crazy bitch and told me everybody knows dogs can't talk. I told him to 'talk to the paw, because this cute Frenchie face ain't listening'. Word up.

Talking Dogs runs from Saturday 10th - Saturday 17th December. Curtain time on Tuesdays to Saturdays is 7:45pm. On Sundays, performances are matinées, commencing at 2:30pm. No performance Mondays. For further information and to book tickets visit http://www.newventure.org.uk/home.asp

Who needs posh dog toys when you can play with plastic water bottles - of course I would've prefered Evian