Rufus and Millie: Not a Love Story.

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Given the choice, I’d take humans over Magpies, any day.

I’m sure there are good ones out there; Magpies, that is. But on the whole they are a cheeky bunch of bastards.

I’m not lumping all birds in with Magpies, mind you.

Some of them sing a beautiful song and go about the business of living without making my life more difficult; and more power to them.

Apart from the ones who swoop around the neighbourhood my first ‘up close’ view of a Magpie was Millie.

What a strange name.

I can see a person being named Millie, but a Magpie; I ask you?

I guess the human who was looking after Millie liked the way it sounded, either that or it was the name of his former girlfriend.

I guess I’ll never know.

I’m just a dog after all, and no one tells me anything.

That’s not completely true; my mistress tells me stuff all the time.

She reads me her stories, when she is finished writing them, and she asks me what I think.

I can’t tell her of course, but she seems to sense when I like one and when I don’t. I try to let her know by wagging my tail or howling. She seems to know the difference.

Her stories are a bit ‘kissy’ and ‘loveydubby’ but I try to overlook that stuff.

I’m interested in the plot.

I particularly like it when there is a dog in it doing wonderful things. Like Rex The Wonder Dog. He’s German but he doesn’t bark with an accent. He gets to solve crimes and bite bad guys, and no one tells him off. 

But, back to Magpies.

Millie had lost her tail feathers when she was attacked by a cat, and this human my mistress knows took her in and looked after her until her new feathers grew back. His name is John and you can just tell that he is a good human; at least I can tell. Dogs know stuff, we can smell good people. It’s hard to explain but there is a glow about them, and they smell good. I’m sorry if that sounds a bit vague but I’m a dog after all and we don’t use a lot of words but we do know a good person when we see one.

Millie had the run of John’s house and she knew it.

She would wait while Chester and I were sleeping in the sun and she would sneak up and try to steal some of our fur, while we were still wearing it!

She’s welcome to the bits that fall out but you have to draw a line somewhere.

Chester is John’s dog, and he reckons that this is the place to be. He reckons that his owner is the best human ever. I tend to disagree and we have had a few heated discussions on the subject but these days we would rather sleep in the sun than bite each other on the arse.

Speaking of cats; what is the point of a cat?

They can’t do anything useful.

They are no good at defending anything; they just leg-it up a tree if a fight breaks out; totally pointless. Why do humans put up with them?

I heard a young human say that, ‘He likes cats, but he couldn’t eat a whole one.”

I could; not that I have, but I could; just saying.

Just to show you how ungrateful Magpies are, when Millie grew her feathers back she just flew away; never came back, not even for a visit.

John was a bit sad but he said he was expecting it, “That’s Nature”. Well if that’s Nature, you can keep it. Dogs have a better idea of how to behave.

If a human takes you in; saves your life; rescues you; you look after him or her. You protect them; you play with them; and you keep them warm when they are cold, and most importantly, you listen to them and you try and look like you understand, even if you don’t. Humans get lonely very easily, just like dogs. I guess that’s why we understand each other so well.

I like it here at John’s place. It’s one of those houses where dogs are welcome. Some of my mistress’s friends don’t like dogs and I don’t know why she puts up with them. They sit around and giggle about stuff. What the hell is the good of giggling about stuff?

I kind of miss Millie. She was a pain in the butt but she was part of the pack, at least for a while. I hope she is okay. It’s a cold hard world out there if you don’t have a pack to look out for you.

Sorry, I have to go.

My mistress is calling me, and that means I get to ride in the car. I always ride ‘shotgun’ even when there are other humans in the car.

I’ll miss Chester, but we will be back soon.

Maybe Millie will have come back for a visit by then. Chester will let me know if she has.

I think he misses her as much as I do, but he wouldn’t admit it.

He’s ShihTzu, and they think they’re hard.

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16 thoughts on “Rufus and Millie: Not a Love Story.

  1. New Zealand’s most famous line of poetry is about Australian magpies (introduced here):
    “Quardle oodle ardle wardle doodle, the magpie said”. Ungrateful fiends. Thank goodness for kind Rufus.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Is that your photo of the birds – it is really cool 🙂 I think Magpies are wonderful birds but the ones around us have less of a song and more of a machine gun chatter – I jumped out of my seat one morning when two of them started an argument just outside the back door. Btw, you’ll have to be careful that Rufus doesn’t alienate your cat loving followers 😉

    Liked by 1 person

    • Not my shot, although I would love to get a shot like that. I found it ages ago and used it for my ‘Dr Doug’ story….. it seemed appropriate to use it here also. We have several ‘families’ of Maggies living in our area and they are a relatively new addition. I’ve always seen them around but the last few years [after that long drought] have been good breeding years so we have seen a lot of ‘youngins’ and eventually they need their own territory.
      Rufus and I are similarly bemused by cats… we don’t love ’em and we don’t dislike ’em, we are just bemused. I’ve known a couple of very cool cats over the years. Probably the best was the cat who moved in next door to us on the same day we moved in nearly thirty years ago. He was beaten up from getting into so many fights but he was the friendliest cat I have know. If he was passing by and he saw you, no matter how far away you were, he would stop his journey and quietly walk in your direction. When he arrived he would push the top of his head into the palm of your hand. He would stay like that until you moved. He would then give you a long look of recognition and go on about his business. Sadly he died about a year after he moved in, but I still remember that old warrior.

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  3. I never saw a magpie until I moved to Calgary — they’re common out west. My introduction was sitting on a balcony with trees nearby, minding my own business, editing something-or-other so I had pencil and little metal hand pencil-sharpener nearby. You know the ending: magpie swooped down and took off with the pencil sharper.

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  4. Pingback: RUFUS and the mysterious case of the missing dog biscuits. | araneus1

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