The adventuresome life of a Great Pyrenees/Newfoundland dog in Northwestern Ontario

Posts tagged ‘music’

A Musical Interlude…

One night last week, we went down to the basement so the two-leggers could watch the news. As the headline stories flashed on the screen, Elizabeth said, “Oh, look at that… Stompin’ Tom has died.”

I looked over to her from where I was lying, warming Kay’s feet. Who is Stompin’ Tom?

Stompin’ Tom Connors is a Canadian icon, a working man’s troubadour, a legend on the Canadian music scene. Imagine that! I’d never heard of him before, but then, I don’t pay much attention to that sort of thing. I asked Elizabeth to tell me more about him. They had played a bit of his hockey song on the news and it had a tail thumping sort of beat to it…

Elizabeth said that he was very popular and had been for a long time. He was really big (she means popular) when she was a little two-legger. That’s a pretty long career! Elizabeth wouldn’t tell me how long. She has a birthday coming up and she really doesn’t want to talk about how long her memory has grown for these sorts of things. It’s enough that she remembers him from when she was a kid, she says. And, she admits, she really didn’t like his music that much.

Really? But she loves music, and she’s always singing songs to me….

“I don’t know,” she said. “His songs all sound a lot alike. Some of the lyrics are kind of fun. There was one that appealed to me more than others…. You’d probably like it, Stella.”

So, she found a YouTube video. I asked her if she would put it up on my blog so everybody could hear it. Tell me what you think, if you like! I did like it, but I guess all of my faithful readers will be able to figure out why that is, BOL, just like I was able to figure out why they called him Stompin’ Tom!

Rest in peace, Tom!

Advertisements

Bush Beat

Today, I thought I’d share something with you from my first year on the Campbell Estate. My run at that time was beside an older area of the forest, and there are lots of old, decaying logs on the forest floor – all covered with soft green piles of green stuff that feels really good under my paws. The Silly Flappers like to go there in the Spring, and sometimes the young ones start practicing in the falling leaf time, too!

I was a puppy when I first heard the boy Silly Flappers showing off to their girlfriends. They kept me up all night. It wasn’t just the ones close to me. The sound carries through the woods for a mile or more. Sometimes you aren’t really sure you’re hearing it – it’s more of a sense of the air kind of throbbing around you. Elizabeth found a really good clip online for me to share with those of you who don’t live in the Boreal Forest so you can hear what it sounds like. The two-leggers who recorded this must have been really close, ’cause you can hear the whoosh of the feathers in the recording, which makes the drumming sound softer. I’ve never heard that before. The drumming I’ve heard is always just the thump that gets faster and faster.

By the time I find a drumming Silly Flapper, he has already stopped. I can get much closer to them than other Silly Flappers before they flap furiously away on me. They’re very unsociable. Most flappers are, I guess. They don’t seem to like me much, anyway. Even the Long-necked Flappers who call me all the time don’t let me come close to say hello back.

Elizabeth says that the reason the Silly Flapper drummer boys are easier to get close to is because they’re so full of something called hormones, and they have so much energy invested in showing off that, even though they’re scared by me (!) they haven’t got the juice to switch into flee mode. She says people who have approached a male peacock (she showed me a tail feather of one that she has hanging on her wall – very pretty, and very long!) will understand. The boy peacock with a fanned tail has a very hard time fleeing an enemy!

Imagine a flapper thinking of me as an enemy! Absurd! But Elizabeth says that’s exactly how they see me…. Come to think of it, though, I did try once to make friends with a little swimming flapper once when I was little, too. It went limp and quit peeping at me. Elizabeth says the flappers don’t realise that I don’t mean to hurt them, and there are other dog-like animals in the forest who eat them if they catch them. So I guess I understand a bit now why they don’t like me much…. -:o(=

Anyway, Elizabeth wrote this one Spring morning after I first heard the Silly Flapper drummer boys from my run the night before:

Okay, I’ll admit that I’m a bit nuts about my dog. Most dog owners will understand.

I sing to her. I noticed my last dog really liked it, so I tried it with Stella, too – well actually, the habit just sort of carried over. I’ll take a tune I know and add lyrics just for Stella.

Yes, I’m afraid I might be a little … touched?

Last night I woke up to Stella’s barking. She barked for some time. I’ve never heard her bark at night before.

This morning, as we were eating breakfast (mom and I), Stella put her head on the leg of the table and fell asleep. She began to snore. She got up, followed me into the kitchen and, while I made my hot chocolate, she flopped onto the floor and looked with exhausted puppy eyes at me. I began to sing. Appalachian mountain man kind of droning tune:

Ho, little Stella
Snorin’ on the floor.
Listened to the ruffed grouse
drummin’ all night.
Barked at the ruffed grouse
all night long –
Woof, woof, woof.
Stupid ol’ bird.
Woof, woof, woof.
Wanna go to sleep.
Barkin’ at the ruffed grouse
and howlin’ at the moon
all night long –
Aaaah woooooh!
Woof, woof, Whoooooh!
All night long!
Now she’s snorin’ on the floor –
Zzzzzzzzzzzzz
Snorin’ on the floor!

Hope you enjoy it as much as she did. She thumped her tail in time to the words.

Cheers! I think I’m going to have a nap, too!

Hmmph. You’d think she’d been up barking at them all night!

A New Stella Medley

Time for another musical interlude (well, you folks are going to need to imagine the music part). It begins as the theme song for Rawhide and, at the second “Rawhide!” changes to Ghost Riders in the Sky. I know I’m not Shakespeare. You two-leggers do much better at poetry and lyrics. But I like the way it sounds and the imagery in conjures in my mind . . . I do my best.

Pounce on it, shake it, toss it.

Pounce on it, shake it, chew it.

Chew it, chew it, chew it –

RAWHIDE!

RAW-AW-HI-EE-IDE!

Ghost cattle in the sky-yee-yiy.

~:o)=

Tag Cloud

%d bloggers like this: