We arrived home from another trip to the doctors. I walked across the breezeway, opened the laundry door for my father to make his dash to the loo. Traditional on these occasions. As I walked back to assist Ma from the car I noticed something pink in the near dead tomato vines down in the veggie garden. Later when taking Liquorice on the lawn for her leak, also “traditional” on these occasions, I found the pink object to be a helium-filled balloon on a string. How it came to be trapped there I’ll never know however I retrieved it for Liquorice but she had other things on her mind, or rather the other end. And then she only wanted to properly greet her oldies.
Eventually though she settled and I tied the balloon to the top of an empty plastic drink bottle and stood it on the family room floor. Liquorice has many toys-squeakies, ropes, balls, stuffies, jacks, you name it, however her favorite toys are those that cost little. One is the center from a toilet roll that will get chewed and spat out in tiny wet pieces at various spots around the floor. Another are the plastic drink bottles that make annoying noises as she rolls on, bites and bashes them into submission, or just chases them as they escape, skittling across about the floor as she bites and bashes them. Between that noise and watching her enjoyment it becomes impossible to concentrate on any TV program. I gave her the balloon while we each looked on hoping Liquorice would get her monies worth before it burst. The balloon hovered above her head, just out of reach until she knocked over the bottle. She could then touch the balloon with her nose and punch at it with a paw. As she punched, her paw would get tangled in the string, bringing the balloon closer but then the string would gain her attention! Simple things amuse our Liquorice. I would untangle her and tap the balloon toward Liquorice. At times she would wrestle that balloon to the ground by the string and would hold it with those massive black puppy arms that Newf pups are equipped with. Once, with Liquorice wrestling it, the balloon’s shape changed alarmingly as she tumbled completely over the top and landed on her side. Liquorice was not impressed. She thought her opponent to be out of condition, so “soft”, no muscle tone at all! And it’s totally bald! It doesn’t even know enough to fall down, this silly thing falls up!
Liquorice would smell, lick, prod and poke at that poor balloon. At times she would try to bite that balloon with the side of her mouth. It refused to burst. Either Liquorice is amazingly gentle or balloons are made much better than when I was a pup! In the fullness of time however she discovered its “bellybutton” where the string was fixed to the plastic clip that held the balloon’s contents within its pink body. Liquorice’s head recoiled with surprise as the balloon started to deflate. She had managed to loosen the clip without bursting the balloon. Then the helium came out a little faster. I waited, hoping she would bark at it in a funny, helium induced voice but she just continued to look shocked at the lack of manners her shrinking friend displayed. When Liquorice has flatulence she does not let it go in someone’s face! Liquorice knows the value of anonymous actions on such occasions! When I notice an “odd aroma” Liquorice will look back at me with blissful innocence. But when my parents comment she will give me the filthiest look of utter disgust! Guess who is given the dubious credit – three votes to one!
All to soon the balloon was just a piece of lifeless pink rubber on the end of a string with Liquorice looking up at me to give it mouth to mouth resuscitation.
Arthur Witten
Liquorice – That balloon is as soft as you, Dad