Black Rod Dog

Though it’s the same, it sounds different. It used to be like cymbals clanging, reverberating and twanging the hairs in my ear flaps. I understand that it’s not what most people do; most would ring the bell or open the door with a key. She does both and I really appreciate that, especially now. Of course, a while ago, I’d hear the rumble of tyres over the bricks on the driveway, the rasping ratchet of her handbrake being yanked up and the clunk of the door. There would usually be a hiatus, a silence protruding into this cacophony announcing her arrival whilst she rummaged in her pockets for the key on the koala ring. As she entered, she would simultaneously ring the doorbell to let everyone in the household know that she had arrived. By this time, I would have found the thing I was looking for, the item to be given upon the opening of the door and my official duties would begin.
I’m not sure how I came to get this job. It could be because of my past. It could be hereditary. It could be because of my ‘experience’ in my former life. If I was to describe how it is to fulfil my role, I would liken it to that of Black Rod. I act as a personal attendant, usher and doorkeeper at meetings, admission of strangers to the house and perform the task of arresting anyone guilty of contempt, disorder or disturbance of the house’s proceedings. It is a fact that Black Rod is usually appointed from the senior ranks of the armed forces so I leave you to draw your own conclusions on that one.

Anyway, this problem I’ve got with my hearing is causing mayhem. I hear the bell but it’s more like a distant sleigh-bell in a dream and the rest that has gone before is just an auditory blank. And so this morning I got a bit confused. The back legs are a bit stiff and when I stand up, it takes a while for the old circulation to get going and I can only attribute my moment of madness to this time lag between mind and body. I just about managed to get there as the door was being closed, I’d had no time to get the thing and before I knew it, I’d grabbed the hem of her dress and I’d no idea why. And because I’d no idea why and because I was so shocked and appalled at this undignified display of senility, I didn’t even let go straight away. The shame of it. No damage done, fortunately, except to my pride.

Note to self: I must remember to get the thing on the way there regardless of my lateness. Better to be late and fully equipped for the job in hand than turn up looking clueless.