Loki the Lockdown Dog

The Other Dog

6. The other dog

Later that very same evening, Benedict let me into his bedroom, where I'd never been allowed before.

"You can stay in here and keep me company, so long as you behave yourself, Loki." I wasn't exactly sure what 'behave myself' meant, so I just sat quietly on the floor, as he was unlikely to complain about that. As the evening drew on, Benedict looked at me and patted the bed. I looked at him and at his hand resting on the duvet. I wondered as deeply as a dog can do, about what 'behaving myself' really constituted, and whether I really could jump up on the bed. Discretion being the better part of valour, I stayed exactly where I was and raised an eyebrow at him. Even at that age I had bushy eyebrows, and Benedict laughed and laughed. Unsure what this meant, I still stayed with my nose flat against the floor and my head resting between my front paws. Perhaps he was laughing because of the dilemma I was in, as to whether to jump up on the bed or not. "You look like Roger Moore when you do that eyebrow thing," he said. I had no idea what Roger Moor was, but I imagined it was a big moor, maybe next to Italy or Japan. A shaggy moor, no doubt, as it looked like me with a raised eyebrow. No matter where Roger Moor was, I'd found a way to make Benedict laugh, so I raised the other eyebrow. Benedict grinned from ear to ear and patted the bed again.

"Come up, Loki," he said. I stood up and was about to jump up onto the bed when the strangest thing happened. I saw another dog, there in the bedroom - but a whole dog, with back legs and everything, just like my brothers and sisters. I ran up to the dog so we were nose to nose, and he (or she?) raised his tail into a big curve over his back, wagging it furiously from side to side, just like I was wagging my tail. I was so excited, for I'd no idea that Benedict was keeping another whole dog in his bedroom this whole time! I moved forward to greet him properly and sniff him, but there was something invisible between us that stopped me, as if he was on the other side of some glass. Benedict had him in a glass cage! In a bedroom that looked just like this one...with another Benedict in it. Hmmm....this was indeed curious. I moved left and he moved in the same direction. I moved right and he moved that way too. He mirrored everything I did and I was really struggling to work out what was really going on. Was there really another world behind the glass but in reverse?

"It's a mirror, Loki!" ejaculated Benedict. "It's just your reflection. There's not really another dog there." There he was, treating me like I wasn't a simpleton again, which made me feel good. No wonder the other dog was mirroring me. Human language can be very confusing, but it has a habit of teaching you things, if only you bother to consider it properly. More strikingly still, as I looked at my side view, I could see that I was a whole dog! Not a half dog with a tail! That resolved as to why I was occasionally seeing a foot and a tail - and why I didn't fall over. So I was just a dog – a normal dog! This might seem funny to you, but it was probably what you felt when you were a baby too. You just can't remember being the seer, the observer, the bodiless exister.

I studied myself from all angles in the mirror. Wow! I had no idea I was quite so handsome. I was tall with long legs, as I knew, but my eyes were bright blue, and my teeth were big and strong and of the whitest white. My fur was long and lustrous and flowed in a mane down my neck. I was piebald, of white and grey, but with soft edges, as the differing colours of the fur bled into each other at the borders. My tail was curved up over my back in a sweeping arc, so it formed a full semi-circle when I raised it in greeting, and it was bedecked with beautiful shaggy fur. From the side view, my long fur made me look big and bold, but from the front I could see that I was svelte and slim, with the depth of my chest far greater than its width. I looked like a lean and elegant old English sheepdog. I gave a long yodeling bark of approval as I eyed myself with admiration.

I jumped up onto the bed with joy and started licking Benedict's face – I was simply so excited.

"Calm down, Loki," he said. "There's a good boy. Sometimes I wonder if you can understand every word I say," he said, stroking my ears and turning my head to face him. I snuggled down on the thick duvet with my head resting on the pillow next to Benedict, and fell into a deep and happy sleep.

7. Inertia

The next day I woke up bright and early as I usually do, bounding off the bed, through the open door and into the kitchen. There was water there for me to drink - but for food, I needed Benedict. I stuck my head around the door and looked up at him, but he was still dozing. I never did learn to tell the time, as we don't go by the human clock, and as I've previously explained, time is a metaphysical conundrum for us. But the sun was well up and it must have been mid-morning. Even without the food issue, I needed Benedict to let me out, as my bladder was bursting. I jumped up onto the bed and gave his face a cautious lick. Nothing. I licked again – both an upstroke and an unusual backhand down stroke that my mother taught me. I gave a little bark. Nothing. I gave a low growl, really quite close to his ear. Nothing. "WOOOF!" I cried, and finally Benedict sat bolt upright in bed.

"Shut up, Loki, I'm trying to sleep. If you want to come in my bedroom, then you have to behave." There was that word again- 'behave'. 'Be' and 'have' – two words that didn't mean either of those two things, and which I was struggling to decipher. Sometimes Human language was just stupid. At least with a dog, what you see or hear is what you get. I barked again and span round 360 degrees into my crouched position with my tail up and wagging, but Benedict just lay down as if he was going back to sleep. I was bursting for the toilet by now. I'd surmised that 'behave' must mean something along the lines of 'be a good dog'. To behave or not to behave, that is the question. Well, my bladder wasn't leaving me much choice on my course of action, so I grabbed the corner of the duvet and pulled it clean off the bed and ran with it trailing behind me all the way to the back door. A short time later, a bleary-eyed Benedict followed me through into the kitchen, where I had one paw up on the glass of the back door and my nose pointing firmly towards the back garden.

"Sorry boy, you need to get out don't you," he said. "Nice trick with the duvet, by the way." With that he opened the back door, grabbed the duvet and headed back to the bedroom, dragging it behind him. I ran around the back garden a few times and barked up at the magpies. As they were involved in a skirmish with the crows, the magpies ignored me.

I bounded back into the kitchen, but there was still no sign of Benedict. I stuck my head around the bedroom door once more. I gave a low growl which crescendoed into a piercing bark. Benedict pulled himself up, threw the duvet to one side and said, "OK Loki. Let's have some breakfast". Benedict lumbered out of bed and poured some kibble into my bowl. There was no tinned food to go with it this morning, just the dry biscuits, and he didn't even bother making himself anything - he just slouched back into the bedroom and slammed the door behind him. Poor Benedict, he really was so depressed and I had no idea how to cheer him up. He only had me for company, his little magic communication box and his computer screen. Lockdown was clearly getting to him. He was lonely, and I just didn't seem to be enough company for him.

I lay on the sofa in the lounge, brooding about my lot, and debating what I could do. The sun was peeping through the clouds and it seemed a perfect day to go for my second walk. I let him sleep for what seemed like days, but must only have been a few hours (minutes?) in human time, and then I started scratching at the bedroom door and whining. No sounds came from the bedroom, so I scratched some more and started barking. I barked and barked, using the crescendo technique, and eventually Benedict appeared. He absent mindedly acknowledged me by stroking my head and switched the kettle on, without saying a word.

I watched him make himself some toast and coffee and sat quietly at his feet while he ate. When he'd finished, I ran excitedly over to my harness and brought it to him, laying it across his feet.

"You're way too smart, boy. OK, Loki. Guess it will do us both some good to get out". He pulled on the grey trousers with the paw prints and his soft, grey fleece and headed for the front door, with me in hot pursuit.