Mossie's big day

Thursday 25th October 2007
My day started really on Wednesday when I started my long journey from Ireland. I tried to tell Ann that I could stay and would be good and although she looked sad, she still sent me away. All the way from Galway to Rosslare (wherever they are... I only left the farm a few weeks ago). Loaded into a cage and into a van and then onto a ferry. . Nothing in the last 10 years had prepared me for this, but at least I wasn't seasick unlike some of the others. I felt I had to be really brave since I seemed to be the only grown up in the van. Some of them were really little - and they cried most of the time.
I have always been able to sleep in most places but the cage was uncomfortable. The man driving was nice, but had a lot to do with all the little ones.
Fishguard, Wales. Wherever that is. Off the ship, at least But we're still not there. I don't even know where there is. What there looks like. Who will be there. Will there be frightening. I don't even know why I'm being sent there. Hours and hours in the van, long and not very winding road. My nose itches.
Still dark, we turn off the road into a small clearing. P-I-C-N-I-C A-R-E-A. My cage is at the back of the van so I can see out a bit. I wish I knew what "picnic area" meant.
Donal, the man driving, opened the van and took out one of the little ones. Barking, in that frantic puppy way. Gone. Voices outside.
"Mossie's a lovely old boy, really nice"
"I'm sure he'll be smashing"
Smashing - what does she think I'm going to do? Run a Greek restaurant? Well, at least she sounds harmless. But you never can tell.
Door opening, cage opening. Lead on collar. Oh my goodness, I must get a grip on my syntax.
She doesn't look actively dangerous but the light isn't too good yet. Squinting up, I can only see a streak of dawn light.
"Gosh, aren't you a sweetheart". Who says "gosh"?
At least I managed a pee in the woods before another van. Except this isn't a van. It's one of those car things. The mad-but-not-actively-dangerous woman has a feeble attempt to shove me into the car thing. No back doors so I have to climb in. Vans are easier. I have been thinking so much about me in the last few minutes that I forgot the others. They were depending on me.
And now I am on my own. Caninely, speaking. She's been mumbling something but I have no idea what she means so I settle down for another long journey. My eyes are hardly closed when we stop again. We're here. Here? is that a bit like "there"? It's just dark. Maybe there is just dark.
"Come on Mossie" - a house thing. I am expected to go in. A house. Scents. Another dog. They complain when we smell but their houses are full of smells. Some I can't work out at all. Dog, cat, people, garlic. But there's only the woman here now.
A bowl: water. A bowl: food. I wait, just in case one of the big boys is around. MBNAD woman pushes the food towards me. Just check that no-one else wants it. Go for it Mossie. I can feel one of those gosh moments coming on too.
Tired now.
MBNAD woman says "Shall we go for a walk?" leaving me feeling like it's not really optional. I suppose I won't feel so stiff if I walk for a bit and I do need to go. She'll remember the poo bag next time.
Cars, vans, buses - and that's just to get to our walk. Woods with lots of strange scents. MBNAD woman likes this walk and she talks to me a lot. A pond , trees and a bridge. MBNAD woman is really sad here, ears back and nose down. She says "we call the bridge 'The Pooh Sticks Bridge' ". Whatever. We set off towards it. There on the bridge. White dog. Old. Waiting. Puffing, pink tongue lolling out. Just as if she had raced to get there first. She.



MBNAD woman can't see her. But she's doing that wet thing from her eyes and nose and there's no way I'm crossing that bridge with a snivelling woman. And the dog I could smell in the house is standing in the middle of the bridge. "Come on Mossie", says MBNAD woman. I feel she's going to say that a lot.
I crawl onto the bridge, belly to the ground. We've both got ears back and nose down now. She stops in the middle, next to the other dog who is giving me a hard stare by now. After a moment, we walk on, leaving the white dog still watching us. "Come on Mossie, she's not really there". MBNAD but really stupid.
Back to the house. So tired. At least she's not wet now.
Sleep for a bit. Floor is hard but I am so tired I could sleep on my nose, If it it didn't itch.
Waking suddenly, she's has gone. I look round and hear her. Above. How?
Looking up, I see her head and there is this path going up. "I'm only upstairs, Mossie". Only up what? I put my foot on the bottom steps of the path and she comes down baring her teeth but not in a biting way.
She sits at the bottom of the steps and puts her arms round me. Resting my head on her knee, I think that she might be ok. With training.
Another doze and I wake to her doing some food that I don't recognise. "Jacket potato, Mossie, my lunch not yours!". A voice, unbidden, urges me to try this strange food. I do the sitting neatly, paws together, pleading eyes. It works, it works! I try this potato - food of the angels. Remember this, says the white dog
After another sleep, I find that she has gone back upstairs. This time I follow and when I get to the top she tells me all about the upstairs rooms. Sleeping and washing, mainly.
Washing. Oh no. I am trying to blank out what came next. Yes, I smelt. It has taken me years to get like that. Distinctive. Powerful. Now I smell medicated. If the other boys used to beat me up before, they would have such a lot of fun with me now.
"I think that I need a cup of tea" says MBNAD woman. I watch carefully and she asks if I want one too. I have NO IDEA what she's on about but the jacket potato was a good experiment so I do that thing again that seems to work. So, there in the bowl is this light brown, milky liquid. Not a jacket potato, then. Tongue in, experimentally. Slightly warm, makes my tongue curl in a pleasant way. Tannic, says the voice.
Bed time, Mossie. Where now? A bed, all for me.
"Night, night Mossie, night, night, Bella" she says. But I know that the white dog isn't here tonight.