A fun blog of 'soft' philosophy about the life and times of a Westiepoo called Chester. Written as a prelude to a more serious novel raising the question: Who is the most bankrupt: the banker who won't whistle-blow or the chef who loses her livelihood?
My beloved friend Mrs. Brooks is a very sweet and talented person. She regularly writes about being a mother of many children, one of whom has profound learning difficulties and how life works for her or doesn't. One of her favourite topics, along with ballet, is gardening and the dear deer that eats her baby rose shoots at the bottom of her extraordinarily long garden that reaches to the brook at the rear of Brookfield Road. There we go again ... an awful lot of brooks!
Her Muntjac deer is, unfortunately for Mrs. Brooks, an intrepid creature. To reach her baby rose shoots, the deer must scale, slump, and scramble all manner of impenetrable garden obstacles such as fences, hedges, and boundaries just to feast on the flavoursome delicacies. Not an easy task made more profound by the deer's natural introversion, intensifying the risks of exposure. Unlike me, a natural extrovert (woof, woof) deer prefer their seclusion, but will at times find their way into unexpected danger.
For instance, just the other day on my routine afternoon walk, I came across a fawn in the scrubland near to a new housing development behind my house. It was a startled creature as you might imagine, especially when it sensed Mr. A and my presence. The poor thing didn't quite know what to do. At first, it tried to run off only to follow the track that I regularly scent. Then, when I, with my superior olfaction, picked up on its hideaway, it froze to let me bark at its fazed apprehension. The bashful thing soon scarpered in another direction, not before my master had a chance to take a photograph.
Of course, I loved witnessing the deer, just like the otter and kingfisher that have frequented my neighbourhood. You see, I am the outgoing type, always wanting to see 'Hello,' and friendly to all manner of beasts, except black Labradors which for reasons that only I know, frighten me. I don't need a second invitation to express my joy at greeting people and animals with a friendly bark. To you humans, I'll swiftly climb for a pet and affection and to my fellow non-humans regularly reciprocate a splendid sniff.
While it may be true that, as an extrovert, I am a friendly and outgoing dog: this is not the only true meaning of my extroversion. In fact, I am energised by being around other beings. Quite the opposite to the dear introverted deer whose energy gain is by being alone.
I am, given the chance, euphoric to socialise with anyone rather than sit alone and sleep. In fact, my ability to make people, including introverts talk, makes me incredibly adept at all kinds of social occasions. I have this knack of allowing introverts to speak about all manner of doggy concepts and issues. Not bad for awkward deer type moments, when being unabashed leads to them opening up in what otherwise would be a boring occasion. Let me in a room and conversation will flow. Believe me, it just does!