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Dog



I have a dog that shares my workshop with me. Totally black, totally mad , totally obsessed with pointing out the bleeding obvious....HEY! ITS A VISITOR!.....HEY! , THERE’S A TRUCK GOING BY!.......HEY!, THE PHONE’S RINGING!.......HEY!, HEY!!, HEY!!!, I SAID IT’S RINGING!! Drives me crazy.... ruins my telephone manner, the thin veneer of professional image, gone.
We try to do the right thing by each other. When my saw bench does its high frequency, ear splitting thing, I let him out. When I go in the truck I sometimes take him with me. When he needs food I feed him. He, in turn, keeps out from under my feet, does his visitor and telephone thing, and pees on my clients' tyres, scratches their duco and puts muddy paw prints on their crotch.

How he came to share my workshop is a long story, and I will not enter into it here. Suffice to say that we did not choose each other. Neither would we again, I suspect.... and yet, we have developed a working relationship of sorts, an irritated symbiosis... a friendship, perhaps.


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