A Whippet Starts to Sing

Here is a lovely poem about Bailey. Thank you to his owner, Gordon.

Waking in the morning comfy in my bed,

Underneath my duvet with a pillow on my head.

Contemplating wondrous things this brand new day will bring
Is shattered every morning when my whippet starts to sing!
He cannot sing an Aria, Zydeco or Rap,
Rock and Blues are not for him nor Pop or folk or Jazz.
He is unique, he has a style, an elongated growl
Without a vicious overtone it’s like a happy howl.
A warbling up and down, scales go round and ring.
We have that every morning when my Whippet starts to sing.Half awake, half asleep, far away from harm,
Until the Whippet’s cold wet nose makes contact with my arm.
My bed is my sanctuary, a haven, a retreat;
No ills can befall me here in my semi state of sleep.
This place under a fluffy cloud, on goose down rest my head
Until that bloody Whippet starts jumping on my bed.His skinny frame nestles next to me, the Whippet burrows in.
He can’t get away with it, can’t let the Whippet win.
This round though has gone to him
The Whippet’s snuggled in!
Ten more minutes in my bed semi slumber is this thing.

But the final peace is shattered when the Whippet starts to sing!

Gordon McCranor

You know that you have a whippet when……

You can feel warmth & a strong heartbeat on your lap…. They give you that “Dog Trust” look when they’ve done something naughty, or want something off your plate….You can only ever find one shoe from any given pair….You get woken up in the early hours with their face hovering above yours to get under covers….They take up most of the space on the sofa and steal the blanket….You did have chicken on your plate, but you don’t any more….There’s not a spare seat on the sofa….When you can’t even go to the toilet without being followed and spied on….They steal your heart and anything else….You can sleep with a warm little body curved into yours….You open the back door to let them out, its raining and you see them bury into the sofa….You are calmer in his presence as his chilled out persona radiates peace….When they steal pizza from your plate, open doors and sleep diagonally on the bed, under the duvet, forcing you to sleep in a corner at the top of the bed approximately 6 inches square….When you can’t leave any food or paper on the table and your slippers are taken as soon you take them off….Nothing survives in the garden….You have to check the worktops every time you leave the kitchen…..You say out-loud “who wants to go for a walkies?” and you think they put they’re hand up, then you realise they’re just asleep upside down on the sofa with one leg stretched out to the sky….You check the advanced weather forecast prior to booking that last minute weekend away…and pack their cases appropriately….You find yourself being forced to share your dressing gown….When you have to reach around a nose and an ear to type and you are sweltering under a boney hairy body….You are never alone….When you come downstairs in the morning and can’t find your whippet pup in the kitchen. Then you realise she has accidentally shut herself in the dog treat cupboard while helping herself to dog biscuits…..You come home to muddy paw prints on the kitchen work surface….Your view for most of the evening is a bald tummy next to you on the sofa….When you put one foot on the stairs, and the whippet missile beats you up to get to the bed first….You hear one crunching on a bone, and then think “hang on I’ve not given you a bone today” and find the remote with teeth marks….You can’t bear to be away from home….when you return home it don’t matter how long you have been gone you still get the same welcome home party….When you have to buy a 6ft wide bed to fit them all in and still have them laying on top of you….When everything on the work surface in the kitchen is ‘fair game’….when your able to hold a conversation with your whippy and know exactly what they are saying in whippy language, food mum please….your breath is taken away every time you see them run….When you realize that your heart has been stolen and you’ve found the love of your life and you just don’t care….you can feel a bump under the duvet….When he proudly skips round like a dressage pony showing you a toy, whenever you come home, even though you’ve only been gone 10 minutes…. You have muddy footprints on your patio door, and nose prints on your windows….When you come home to a house full of love….When you spend more money on coats and collars then clothes for yourself….You have to share the hot water bottle….When they don’t see you, while running towards you, and you land on your butt in the grass….Your dirty knickers are doing the wall of death around the lounge….You wake up with it stuck to your face or on top of your head….The freshly dried, still warm tumble dried washing is now a whippet bed….The bin empties it’s self….You have to make sure all bathroom doors are closed or you will have a toilet paper party in your house….When anything you own becomes everything they own….When your life (and house) gets turned upside down, for the better….For the first time in your life your kitchen is free of dirty dishes and leftovers on the side….You enjoy the luxury of clean bed sheets for just one night a week…. When you have a full house and the whippets are on the sofa stretched out and you are sat on the floor….When you can’t see out of your windows because of all the nose art….They never cease to amaze you will their grace, speed & not too mention stealth of getting under bed covers unnoticed….When everything reminds you of them – a sharpened pencil, a kangaroo, Kenneth Williams, The Sphynx, Velociraptors etc, etc….When you buy a superking size bed and still wake up lying parallel to the headboard….When you get stood on for a belly rub or cleaned of any crumb left on you from eating….When your dishes get cleaned before you manage to get them in the dishwasher….

julie

Thank you to all our Facebook followers for the quotes, and Julie Hudson for the photo of Finlay and Bailey.

Copyright Scruples Whippet Rescue 2012

WordPress theme: Kippis 1.15