Some people tiptoe through the tulips, some attempt, quite unwisely in my opinion, the Harlem Shuffle. I myself glide through the air sleek, devastatingly graceful and always moving with a rhythm that would rival Jagger. It is this word, rhythm, that introduces you to the topic of my mind’s wanderings this evening.
Rhythm is apparently a dancer…and now…so shall I, the Spindlehound, rejoice in the medium of movement. This decision has been prompted by me witnessing a most dreadful sight this evening, and has consequently spurred me into action. Whilst nibbling daintily on my fifth custard cream I looked up as a shadow flitted past me. Attached to this shadow was the short human, displaying symptoms of St Vitus’s dance.
Words really cannot adequately describe this vision. I initially rushed to her side with great haste, assuming that her uncontrolled flailing of limbs was indeed some kind of medical event. Alas no. The tall one explained to me in hushed tones that she was in fact dancing. On purpose. She continued to sashay around the house for some time until after a sustained period of whirling like a dervish, she lost her footing and crashed sideways like a demented crab down the kitchen step and landed in a crumpled heap. I assumed the tall human would leap up in a lot of concern to help, but he appeared unmoved and carried on leafing through his copy of ‘Beard Monthly’ whilst lounging in his special gentleman’s chair.
With a deep sigh I stretched and took it upon myself to pad over and peer into her pocket in case she had been carrying any snacks at the time of the collision. Alas no, so I padded back to my custard creams and left her writhing in a heap.
Similarly I have also witnessed the tall human dancing. This is altogether different as he is somewhat more reserved and his ‘shape throwing’ seems to be done in a way to expend the absolute minimum of energy. My favourite of all his moves is ‘the rapid headshake’ which is normally done from the comfort of his chair (I have my beady eyes on the chair I may add).
Having already planned my impending mind expansion (poetry) I have now decided to extend this self improvement to involve the tweaking of my finely honed hound body. I too, shall dance in the household! The difference being I shall be a thing of beauty. I shall be, as previously stated, devastatingly graceful.
So I found myself flicking through the humans’ digital music device pod thing looking for something that might provide a suitable soundtrack for the spectacle that was to be. Sighing at their somewhat questionable taste I settled on Chaka Demus and Pliers….
3 thoughts on “Best paw forward”
Love it , we will dance when I visit,I’m sure the gracefulness of Swanlake has not eluded you?. Or maybe the Nutcracker is more to your taste!!!!!!!
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Dear Miss E W W Spindlehound,
I was so pleased to hear about your foray into the joys of dancing…..if only your limbs were not quite so long and spindly you could be my amateur partner in #dogsdostrictlycamply. I have perfect balance, lightness of foot and look HOT in my sequinned tweed pant suit, if I say so myself.
I hope the short one has not sustained serious injury since she is the provider of your comfort and well being.
I have had the most fabulous weekend, darling. My sister and her rather eccentric boyfriend came for the weekend and dedicated themselves entirely to ME. There were balls flying everywhere, sometimes perilously close to the bossy cow’s greenhouse and I ended up in the pond. Twice. It required two baths with baby shampoo and conditioner to restore me to my perfectly coiffed self.
We also went for a glorious walk along the sea shore where bossycow released me from my shackles. What fun it was to stray into the neighbouring field and eye the herd of cows while looking back insolently at BC.
Anyway I must go as I have to pester the other one who is trying to do something in the garden,
With much love now
Your Gypsy Boy xx
My dearest Gypsy Boy
I must admit that I find myself much warmed by your eloquent communication. I am pleased to report the household seems to have returned to normal…well…as close as it ever will I suppose. I would like to say that I found myself unexpectedly moved by the description of you in your “sequinned tweed pant suit”. I trust you have a matching baker boy cap to set the outfit off to it’s full dazzling potential? I will decline from commenting on the flying balls due to matters of decency..but I do sense that you very much harbour a rebel within yourself…oh the chance to set them free!! I feel that perhaps we might be kindred spirits and that only good could come of us sharing our most splendid tastes in apparel and our jaunty views of life. Yes, we must talk further. It is with this (hopefully) beguiling thought that I leave you..until next time Gypsy Boy, I bid you farewell…xx