Ruggles and I journeyed to the shopping center today, not that Ruggles is allowed inside; sadly such things are forbidden in this unenlightened land “Downunder”. Ruggles did have a good walk around the perimeter of the building and carpark area where he made lots of new friends and also met many old friends.
The hustle and bustle, the sights and sounds, the scents and clamor at a busy shopping center are so different to the leisured life the young master leads on his small rural acreage. Ruggles is always a big hit wherever people congregate with progress always being slow as folk pat him, ask all the usual questions, make comments and the endless taking of photos using mobile phones. Ruggles looks at each new person asking a question, ever hopeful of enticing ear-massages with a winning grin or have someone stroke his long soft coat. His Lordship is ever the showman, ever willing to engage with his admiring “public” – “noblesse oblige” and all that. Ruggles is always patient, though at times the constant attention wears the little fellow out after a time, so Ruggles will lay down sprawling out across the footpath, that is until someone else wants their photo taken with Ruggles.
He equates phrases like, “Do you mind if I take a photo?” with the command “Up you get Ruggles!” A photogenic boy must do what a photogenic boy must do.
Once we’d run the “gauntlet” of the admiring and curious, Ruggles returned to his mobile kennel, occasionally known as “my car”, where the young master had a much-needed drink before going up the ramp to the interior regions of his conveyance – a hatchback.
Earlier I’d ordered fish ‘n chips for myself and then collected same.
Ruggles accepts that he doesn’t “dine” while in his mobile kennel, and knowing his mean old dad wouldn’t be sharing, the drool taps either side of Ruggles mouth remained on “trickle” rather than “flood” setting. Thus His Lordship ignored me, sitting to one side of the back door, and gazed at all the activity outside. And much of that activity was the passing of wide-eyed people staring back at him, or coming over asking all about the boy – one disbelieving lady even asked if Ruggles was “real”. People posed with Ruggles while even more photos were taken on mobile phones, or he was cuddled with genuine enthusiasm despite warnings of his being the possessor of a wet mouth! We travel with a ready supply of towels.
One red-haired lady and her equally red-haired young daughter approached rather hurriedly, both all excited. They both patted Ruggles with unrestrained enthusiasm with Ruggles standing up wanting more and nearly falling out the back of his mobile kennel! Finally they started asking questions, first of which was did I mind their taking a photo with the mother using her mobile phone taking picture after picture as daughter while telling me they were slowly driving past when she commented to her daughter, “Look at that man so contented eating his lunch”. Her daughter told her to look again and she was stunned to see the giant Ruggles equally contented watching the world go by.
Each time the daughter sidled away from having yet another photo being taken, the mother would hug Ruggles burying her head into his Landseer coat, finding good spots to scratch the boy before having the daughter resume posing next to Ruggles, who by then was feeling familiar enough to wash the young lady’s face with his broad tongue – much to the mother’s delight, less so the delight of she whose face was being cleansed. Each time the girl would get out of Ruggles’ range, the mother would smother Ruggles with more and more hugs and kisses before having her dutiful daughter resume position.
People were stopping, looking at the scene, while the daughter was trying to disown her mother, which was difficult considering they each wore the same distinctive bright red hair atop their heads, a hair color that by then well-matched the daughter’s face.
Arthur Witten
Ruggles – Go away dad, you’re cramping my style!