What Do You Do When Your Dog Gets Notions?

I’m a bit worried about Lily The Dog.

Or should that be Star Of That Irish Times Article Lily The Dog?

Getting notions, she is. Notions!

Me, the much unsought-after author of the article in last Saturday’s Irish Times … the grand writer in residence? Ignored, pretty much. 

The odd ’well done’ or ‘nice article’ … and that was about bloody well it. 

Certainly nothing like the drivel I have had to listen to all over town, from family and friends, and online — especially online — about how cute and gorgeous Lily is, and how adorable she looked in the photos that went with the article.

Grrr! (Me not her) 

My big moment … ruined!

The champagne corks popping, modestly but suavely waving away declarations of my literary genius.

None of it!

No one cared! They only see how cute Lily is, cooing over the photos of the little mutt that accompanied my tour de force

Lily can’t even read or write, could even be dyslexic for all we know, for dog’s sake!

And I can tell you for sure she’d never heard of the Irish Times Weekend section.

But now … there she is strutting up and down the kitchen like she’s on the Hollywood red carpet …

Tilting her head this way and that, preening her long velvet ears, one up, one down, both up, both down, as if to ask ‘Well, which do ye prefer, up or down?’ 

‘Which makes me look more vulnerable, trusting …?’

Who does she think she is, the doggie Saoirse Ronan? Bloody annoying, so it is.

And I called her just now out the back, and did she come immediately, at her humble master’s bidding … did she, heck!

And there was hard-working, never-say-die me, slaving over a hot phrase, finessing and embellishing … heroically pestering the features editor with ideas and samples of my precious work, and I finally get one measly article published — which I had to search for ages to find — and all anyone can see, or talk about afterwards is Lily!!

All my nuanced ruminations on spring arriving in my garden, and magpies building nests out there and my felicitous reflections on birdsong and my elegiac lament for the wilderness out back that will be no more when they start building work ithere … and a pic of Lily’s gormless head, and those soulful brown eyes staring at me with undisguised love and reverence, and she gets the fan letter!!

Addressed to me, but it was from a dog lover … a picture of their black, low slung terrier mix, and telling me how their little yoke resembled Lily, and maybe they were similar breed …

The preening Lily has been doing since … 

Did I mention notions? The little madame definitely looked funny at her breakfast bowl this morning when I measured her meal out … and that’s not like Lily.

Usually it’s Bella turning her nose up at her dinner every few days — as if to say ‘not this same old crap, again?’ Annoying but I kind of respect her for it. See it as a sign of intelligence and discernment.

Not like Lily, who would nearly eat her own puke, she’s so permanently hungry and indiscriminate in her tastes

Lily Savage we have called her, for the way she tucks into her food, nearly putting her head in the bowl before it even reaches the floor.

Goes around the place constantly hoovering up crumbs, and comes charging into the kitchen after whoever goes in there, in her shameless quest for titbits … anything!

I have to try keeping her grounded … which really shouldn’t be too hard, as with those stubby little legs, her undercarriage is only inches off the floor anyway.

But maybe I’m looking at this all wrong.

Taken aback by the way Lily has become the surprise breakout star of That Irish Times Article.

Perhaps I ought to sit back and let those unsolicited scripts come flooding in …

Sift through that pile of Oscar-winning material for her.

Though maybe she’s d be more of an action hero, a Marvel type dog.

I mean she can hear the postman before he even reaches the front door, and barks like a lunatic when dogs miles away even raise a faint bellow

I can just see her, with her own range of Lily neckerchiefs. 

Yes, that’s her bounding into a burning building to save her sickly wounded, asthmatic young master …

‘Cut’ says the director, and off Lily pops to her ginormous trailer for another steak served up by her butler in a silver salver.

But I don’t mind … keep the cheques and the offers coming in …

Of course, I’m talking to our agent there … only the best scripts and opportunities for Lily The Wonder Dog …

There’s also that merchandise business to look into — or merch, as we call it — tasteful diamond-encrusted water bowls, to die for photos of Lily on mugs … a range of colours, some with ears up, some with ears down …

I have just started working with her on her expressions … soulful, warm, loving … they all look pretty much the same to me, but if you subtly adjust the lighting, add music, and the effect is amazing, she could be expressing anything.

Although, I did think we had deep and sincere cracked there just now, but suddenly those ‘sincere’ brown eyes started to look alarmingly off-kilter, crazed even, as she bolted after the fly that just came in the patio door …

We’ll get there …

Might as well embrace the opportunity … I’d just better finish off that follow up article the features editor just requested, about handling dogs who get famous without proper preparation. 

And the effects on their forgotten masters …