I think I’ve always talked to myself and I’ve certainly always talked to my dog. Now I live on my own, the talking has escalated. So much so, that I don’t notice I’m doing it.
One advantage of wearing a mask in the supermarket is that it allows me to mutter as I wheel my trolley around without anyone realising. At least I hope they don’t realise.
Flossie likes being talked to and research shows that talking to your dog is beneficial for both dogs and humans.
I give her a running commentary on all sorts of topics, for example, how to operate the heating controls or rustle up a vegetable stew.
Flossie looks on with keen interest. I think it’s interest. She’s probably wishing I wasn’t vegetarian.
When I’m working on this column I read it aloud to her. She seems fairly satisfied with the finished item. Sometimes she sleeps through my recital.
I also chat to her when we’re on our walks. And I don’t just mean when I call her or ask her to do something.
We walk along country lanes and I remark on things that I see and share my thoughts with her. It probably looks a little strange but it seems normal to me.
We’ve been caught out several times. I might be saying something like, “I wonder what type of tree that is,” or, “What do you think I should have for lunch?”
Or, more embarrassingly, as Flossie suddenly stops to attend to her nether regions, “Have you got an itchy bottom, Flossie?”
Then I’ll hear the whirr of bicycle wheels or the patter of trainers and a cheery greeting as someone breezes past. There’s a high possibility they would have heard my inane chattering during their silent approach.
I smile and wince simultaneously and pray that they didn’t.
We go on our way, quietly. But after a minute or two, the chat starts up again.
As published in the Bath Chronicle, 28 January 2021
Suzy Pope is a certified copywriter and newspaper columnist specialising in pets, business and lifestyle. If you would like help with a writing project, please get in touch.
