Me and My Dog, Two Peas in a Pod

I can’t ignore it any longer. Me and my dog, we’re two peas in a pod. I am Olive. Olive is me.

It’s a well-known phenomenon that people and their dogs often look alike. There have been studies done. Real, live, sensible studies with proper funding. And, of course, there have been articles written, photos snapped. Just take a quick click HERE.

Are you back? Have you had a little look at yourself and your own dog, side-by-side in the bathroom mirror? Any surprises?

Thirty years ago, I was on a student exchange in the USA when I met the owner-dog look-alike of the century. The woman’s name was Hilary. (Not really. I’ve changed her name for privacy reasons.) The dog’s name was Meatball. (Really! I can’t bring myself to change his name for privacy reasons. It suited him perfectly!)

Let me just say, right here and now, that Hilary was a lovely woman - kind, warm, creative and hospitable. The fact that she was not attractive in a conventional way is no reflection upon her inner beauty or her sterling qualities as a hostess. It is merely to illustrate my point. Hilary was short and hefty of build. Her skin was very fair and her almost-white hair was closely cropped. Her eyes, large and friendly, sat wide apart and protruded a little.

No sooner had I arrived  and been warmly welcomed, than Hilary hollered at the top of her lungs, ‘MEATBALL!  MEATBALL! COME ON IN AND MEET OUR GUEST, MEATBALL!’

And Meatball came.

Meatball was a white bull terrier - short and hefty of build, with large, friendly, wide-set eyes that protruded a little.

I looked from Meatball to Hilary.

I looked from Hilary to Meatball.

I patted Meatball and decided to close my gaping mouth and keep my astonishment to myself. 

However, I digress. Because, in the case of me and Olive being two peas in a pod, I am not talking about looks. Olive is little and black and as skinny as a bean pole. I’m  tall and fair and - as my husband puts it so kindly - big-boned. I’d be chuffed if my appearance was more like that of my dog. It’d be fun to see my ribs beneath my skin … to have a trim, taut stomach that curved inwards rather than outwards … to have glutes so firm you could bounce a squash ball off them. But that’s Olive, not me. My physique is more Labrador than whippet. 

What I’m talking about is personality. Olive and I have become so much alike that it scares me ...and sort of thrills me! It's complicated.

First of all, Olive is not a morning dog. I have never been a morning dog - er,  person. I am a sit-up-late-at-night-then-sleep-until-mid-morning-person.  Olive gets it. She digs the late rise. So much so that, nowadays, she snuggles down into the blankets long after I’m up. On the rare occasions that my schedule demands an early morning rise, Olive is not amused. She stares down her nose at me with enormous contempt then goes back to sleep. 

'Leave me alooooone! It's too early!'

And then there’s the dark. Olive is freaked by it. I’m scared of the dark, too. And Olive fuels my fear. She regularly wakes at 1.30 am, slinks into the hallway, raises her hackles and snarls into the black unknown. I, of course, believe that my worst fears have materialised. There’s an intruder! This time there really truly is! Just look at the way the dog’s behaving!  Needless to say, Olive’s nightly routine does nothing to quell my fear of the dark.

Olive loves swimming. I love swimming. As long as the air’s warm. Our last whippet hated water but Olive will take a dip as long as there’s not a shower head or shampoo involved. We both adore the beach! 

 

Post-swim soggy doggy.

Olive and me, loving the beach together.

Olive loves it when friends visit. I also love my friends to visit. I walk out onto the veranda to greet my guests, voice high-pitched and loud, arms stretched out for a hug. Olive runs around in circles and does an excited little tinkle on their feet. It’s not quite the same thing, I know, but there is shared joy in spending time with the special people in our lives.

Exercise does not come naturally to Olive. What can I say, but ditto? I make myself go for a walk and lift weights every day, but it’s an effort. And now I am burdened with owning a dog who would rather slouch on the couch than sniff the footpaths and lampposts of the neighbourhood. 

Dogs are meant to inspire you to walk! Whippets are supposed to be runners! Not mini-me. 

Some days I have to drag Olive outside.  Some days she comes willingly, but then, two blocks along, she nudges my leg and gives me that look that means, ‘Enough. It's too hot. Let’s go home and have a treat.’ And sometimes, I’m ashamed to say, we do!

And so there you have it. Olive and me - two peas in a pod. We are the friendly, light-loving lounge lizards of the owner-dog world.

How are you and your dog alike?

Oh my goodness! I was just about to post this when I realised how similar my nose is to Olive's - long and thin!!!! I'm Whippet Woman!

FOR A SPOT OF READING ON THE DOG-OWNER LOOK-ALIKE PHENOMENON, CLICK HERE AND HERE.

New Beginnings

Happy New Year!

And happy new blog site to me!

It's a long time since I last blogged. Nine months. Enough time to grow a baby! Which I haven't. But many women have. Over four and a half million babies born already this year.

I think I'll call the lull in my blog The Gestation Period. I like that. It sounds like I was deliberately withdrawing from blogging while I developed my musings into something beautiful and full of life. It's a lie, of course, but a lovely one. And it sounds a whole heap better than The Great Disorganisation of 2016.

I haven't been idle, though. I've been doing stuff all over the place. Here's a quick fill-in:

ONE

I did a road trip, The Telling Tales Tour. I travelled to Melbourne, Bendigo, Sydney and Brisbane with a marvellous group of fellow authors. I spoke to school children, teachers and librarians - anyone who'd listen, really - alongside the amazing authors Judith Rossell, Tiffany Hall and C M Gray.

 

With Tiffany Hall

With Judith Rossell and CM Gray

TWO

I met with a range of lovely friends for lunch, dinner, craft sessions, life-changing chats and wildly competitive games nights. Yes. You read that correctly. GAMES NIGHTS. I have a friend who fancies herself as Grant Denyer and likes to host Deal or No Deal nights. It's a hoot.

THREE

I ushered two new books into the world - Olive of Groves and the Great Slurp of Time  and Olive of Groves and the Right Royal Romp. Both true stories, of course.

FOUR

I continued to garden like a maniac. Episodes of frost, flood, scorching heat, earwigs and thistles have made this a challenge, but I still truly believe that I can make my one and a half acres of earth look like Versailles.

FIVE

I crocheted a dashing new coat for Olive, my precious little whippet. It keeps the winter chills at bay and she’s terribly proud of her herself when wearing it. 

 

I know! She looks a little sheepish here, but when she
heads out into the lane, she trots with pride. Truly!
The Great Dane slinks behind, blushing with
embarrassment.

SIX

I hit the road again for Book Week, visiting wonderful schools in Wagga Wagga, Jugiong and Canberra. And I did my all-time favourite Canberra thing, which is eating cake with my mother.

SEVEN

I fed my already raging Scandimania by travelling to Sweden, Norway and Denmark. My love affair with all things Scandinavian began 30 years ago when I first met the Great Dane and it was wonderful to expand my horizons. (Actually, I’m not sure that you really can expand your horizons within the confines of an obsession, but I gave it a good shot!)

Boat houses on the harbour at Smogen, Sweden.

Reflections on a lake near Sognefjord, Norway.

On the Pulpit Rock with the Great Dane, 605m above
Lysefjord, Norway.

EIGHT

I spent lots of time daydreaming, reading, writing, drawing, taking photographs, arranging treasures in little trays, baking, experimenting with computer graphics, splashing ink about  - wandering wherever the creative spirit led me.

NINE

I harnessed some of that loopy-la-la creativity and wrote a new children’s story. The manuscript reached my publisher just five days before Christmas. There’s action, adventure, mystery, romance, travel,  ravioli and gelati. Sounds like I’ve written an Italian soap opera. Maybe I have!

TEN

We bought a block of land - our own little slice of hill and granite and grass. Stay tuned for more details and dreams and schemes. 

The Great Dane pretending to be an Aussie farmer.
That's our hill in the background!

Have a squiz at this!

For a mind-boggling glimpse at the rising tally of births this year, 

CLICK HERE.

I'll be blogging every Friday, so feel to drop on by or sign up for blogs by email. (Look up to the right!)