In
contemplating my blogging responsibility for this week I considered
listing everything that scares me but after toiling for three days like a
venerable monk copying the old Testament with a quill pen I realized
the work would consume the rest of my days so I picked one topic to
expand upon.
And that topic is the kitchen.
I
do not fear an inactive kitchen when the plates are locked up, the mugs
carefully hung on their tree, and the utensils stacked peacefully. But
when Mommy frees the plates, plucks the mugs and unsettles the utensils
I begin to tremble as my serenity and backbone are reduced to Jello.
I
do not like noise! Plates clashing with countertops, glasses clapping
together, a sharp knife slicing through fresh vegetables and landing on
wooden cutting boards, blenders whirring, slicing and mixing, fusing
together and creating the sound of chaos which equals danger.
I
know dogs from the time the first animal was cleaned and the first
vegetable harvested have endured these sounds but today’s kitchen has
spurned a new and more frightening noise.
Beeps!
I
hate beeps whether they be from smoke alarms or alarm clocks but mostly
I hate that noise coming from the kitchen. When I was a young dog I
lived a virtual beep free life. But then we got a new stove and instead
of the reassuring sound of flames springing from a gas jet the stove
does nothing but beep.
As
soon as Mommy begins preparing in the kitchen I begin trembling. I
first take solace on Daddy’s lap but as the pots crash against one
another and plates crash I climb to higher ground: His shoulder. Then
comes the beeping. The ceaseless beeping. To set the stove, to warm
the stove, to set the microwave. The oven door bellows with indignation
when it opens. The racks screech as they are pulled forward. There is
more beeping as the stove is set again, and even more as the same is
done for the microwave.
And
then comes the cutlery. The wicked cutlery: Sharp edges and prongs.
Damn those Disney movies with their dancing knives and forks. Knives
do not kill people but dancing knives will mess you up! I jump down
from Daddy’s lap and hide behind Mommy’s recliner hoping that if the
flatware does animate they won’t be able to find me.
Within
an hour the danger passes. The tableware is set and silenced. The
oven door yields with less resistance. The racks glide out. Delicious
smells overcome the noise. I trot out from behind the recliner. Like
all survivors I crawl from my safety zone following the smell of food
looking for something good to eat.
Fear builds quite appetite.
You just ruined the joy we use to feel as food is prepared. Joy has been replaced by terror.
ReplyDeleteMisty and my minions
OH HOW I (Frankie Furter) Feel your Pain and TERROR... the kitchen is a place of Fierce and Noisy thingys... BUTT I keep trying to Remind myself... FOODABLES come from there ALSO...
ReplyDeleteAND that Mom... RARELY.. gets Injured in her Battles with the Kitchen THINGYS...
I wish I could hold your paw so you would not be so afraid... and that YOU could hold MINE for the same reason.
With time, all of this may get better. Lightning never liked all the beeps from the cell phones, microwave, timers, etc. But finally that has gotten better. Now if we could just get him to not be afraid of bikes:(
ReplyDeleteWoos - Ciara and Lightning
Bailey used to be scared of the kitchen floor. But now there is a long rug that protects him from it
ReplyDeletehgs
Mr Bailey, Hazel & Mabel
BOL, just as long as da fear don't affect your luv of foodables.
ReplyDeleteYou should have met our Monty. He was afraid of everything. His phobias had phobias. But he adored puppies and he forgot to be afraid when he was around pups.
ReplyDelete