Well hi Campers,
Its me, Hank here.
It’s been nearly a week now since I was relocated to my new home from Texas in the U S of A and I think I’m getting my paws nicely under the table, thank you very much.
I believe the impetus for my addition to the family was born of their desire not only to give me a good home here in Blighty but also to improve their stressbusting™ potential (us pets having a reputation for helping the human folk relax and be themselves – see their earlier post called “Engage your Inner Child to Stressbust™" for further context).
On my first day they sat me in front of a big TV screen playing a revolving reel of a burning, crackling home fire.
That confused me somewhat (particularly as they had a rug laid out in front of it!), and did nothing to warm me up or send me into slumber.
But I’ve since learned they have either used up, exported or sold all of their natural assets such as coal here (an odd thing to do as an island 😲), so they have no control over utility bills that are consequently through the roof and seek to recreate the comfortable (warm) old days of the past in picture form.
Good luck with that – just give me a doggy jumper.
Anyway, the 2 most striking things I’ve noticed since my arrival is firstly how bad the weather is here (something they talk about persistently as if it were a matter of life and death) and how they seem to address (or rather, fill) every single challenge or void of activity with what they describe as “a nice cup of tea’ (which smells like unwashed charity shop underwear, by the way).
I’m surprised they don’t sink, to be honest.
With the dreary weather here at this time of year they repeatedly talk about booking vacations (which they call ‘holidays’) and even relocation to warmer climates, but never seem to get round to it in earnest – the talking about it seems to make them feel better in themselves though, which I suppose is fine.
We have good daily walks, with some degree of pleasing woodland may I say, and at 8km, decently long for this part of the world – some of my poor K9 brethren appear to get nothing more than a lap or 2 of their uninspiring suburban estate, which can hardly be classed as a ‘walk’.
I have noticed a few interesting phenomena on these walks.
Firstly (and again) everyone in passing mentions weather – they are truly obsessed. “Nice enough day today”, “hope the rain keeps off”, “fresh isn’t it, Bob” – you name it, they say it.
Its almost as if, while they don’t have to speak, they feel the compelling need to say something, anything - and weather is their common default position.
It can become repetitive after a while.
I’ve also noticed a peculiar joy in their being able to dampen others’ geological optimism, an opportunity they capitalise on eagerly.
On at least 3 occasions in under a week, we have ourselves joined in the merry dance and mentioned congenially that the weather is nice for this time of year (here), only to be met with the reply that we had “better make the most of it” as it is due to change at such and such a time or date (which are never the same as they all read different forecasts)!
They just love this and never seem to tire of the chance to deflate an unwitting victim who falls into their trap.
And then there is the related need to underplay achievement.
Over here, it’s almost like people oughtn’t to prosper outside the norm, even if that prospering is a result of their own hard efforts.
There is I believe a phrase to describe this unfortunate tendency – they call it ‘Tall Poppy Syndrome’, meaning that if one poppy grows taller than the others, it gets clipped back down to the same size as the others – hardly a characteristic befitting a nation that claims to be encourage individual invention and endeavour?
I’ve had a few trips out in the car already (they treat us like their babies here so take us everywhere 👍) and encountered one of the most illogical things I’ve ever seen – the so-called ‘roundabout’.
It sounds like some sort of lotto.... because that’s exactly what it is!
The idea appears to be that 3 or even more cars can be crossing a circular shaped road leading in different directions at exactly the same time, ‘supposedly’ giving way to the right in multiple but confusingly laid out lanes.
These are like revolving hotel doors where – guess what – everyone constantly gets stuck and bangs into each other.
Only in this case, its a grown up extension of Bumper Cars (“Dodgems” to the Brits) involving real cars and trucks.
It is terrifying paws over eyes time.
We take our lives in our hands whenever we approach one (and there are hundreds) as nobody seems to have the foggiest idea how to navigate them.
What on earth is wrong with using (far safer and simpler) junctions with lights is beyond me – perhaps it’s a trait of the Brits that they would rather face recurring mortal danger daily than have to take turns with one another?!
Finally, these Brits have another seeming leisure pursuit - that of reporting and comparing illnesses and ailments, no matter how serious they are. “Jim’s got that”, “our Marjorie has this” and “did you hear such as such has been in for an operation for the other”.
It doesn’t seem to matter whether or not the alleged sufferer is family, nor their right to Privacy for that matter.
Its damn well incessant and something of a chore when all you are trying to do is go about your K9 business while your owner waves the remnants of your last number 2 as if its a microphone announcing to the rest of the disinterested world, “look at me, I’m really very law abiding and responsible, aren’t I?”!
I’ve few other complaints for now, though – they are a decent enough, loving, best intentioned bunch overall.
I’m getting to discover my stressbusting™ housemates’ own little idiosyncrasies and finding it quite entertaining.
They believe in equality and freedom of expression, so the good news in this regard is that I have open access to the laptop for future dog-blogging 👌
I’ll be reporting frankly in my posts on whether I feel they are properly practicing the stressbusting™ strategies and ideas they promote in their posts ‘from the inside’, so to speak.
But over and out for now, guys – its time for my next nap.
Big Love, Big Hank 🐶 xxxxx