The longer the lockdown the more we resemble our four-legged friends

By Richard Glover July 16, 2021 â€" 6.00am

Dear Mum and Dad,

It’s your dog Clancy here, writing to you from the city. Here’s the news: my human companions, Man and Lady, are turning into dogs. The longer lockdown goes on, the more they embrace the canine lifestyle.

First, there’s the enthusiasm for walks. They now want to go walking three or four times a day. Even I think: “Come on, mate, steady on, I only sniffed that tree an hour ago. Give it a minute for the messages to reload.”

Clancy and his owner Richard Glover.Credit:Olivia Rousset

But they are always raring to go, panting at the door, straining on my leash.

When we arrive back home, Man is exhausted. He’s never walked this much. He circles three times on the carpet, then collapses, as if shot by a sniper. I do the same. We both lie together on the floor, our panting slowly shifting into slumber.

If I wake up first, I’m presented with a very cute sight. Man is obviously dreaming about his life before lockdown. His legs twitch as if running, and he makes little yelping noises as if he’s at a lively party, the canapés circulating and dinner on the way. Gorgeous! I should film him for Insta!

Talking about dinner, it’s getting earlier. Pre-lockdown, my meal was served at 5pm; their meal at 7.30pm.

Well, that sophisticated timetable has not been maintained. By 4pm on a Saturday, Man is already circling the fridge. By 4.30pm, he has started to peer behind the iceberg lettuce in case there’s a stray beer that survived last night’s arduous campaign.

Who knows, I can see him thinking, maybe it was in hiding.

He’s fired up the BBQ by 4.55pm, which even I think is a bit unfashionable. And the quantities. Oh my god, the quantities.

Lady is forced to say: “You don’t think you are cooking too much food?” But Man just sniffs, and says: “I am trying to build morale.”

No more walks please, Clancy begs for some shut eye.Credit:Olivia Rousset

I notice, as well, that his eating style is beginning to take after my own. It’s the suction method. Get your head as close as possible to the bowl and inhale the lot. “Frenzy” may be the best word for it, as in the phrase: “Man ate the chop in what police described as a frenzied attack.”

Then, rather like me, he stares at the empty plate mournfully, as if angels might come from heaven and restore the plate to its former glory.

The look he gives the empty plate â€" and I owe this insight to my own mental patterns â€" is along the lines of “Which bastard ate my dinner? It was right here a minute ago”.

There’s an identical look that, later in the evening, he employs in contemplation of his empty wine glass. And the empty bottle next to it.

After dinner, there’s a short break until about 5.30pm, during which they watch some rubbish on the television, after which they have their dessert, something relatively healthy involving yoghurt.

Three seconds later, having polished off his bowl, Man says: “I’d hardly call it dessert. It involved fruit.”

The consumption of fruit, it seems, is akin to his forced attendance at a health camp.

A little after 6pm, Man once more begins his prowling.

“I can hear you in there,” says Lady, as he moves things around in the pantry. “What are you trying to find?”

“Nothing,” he says. “Well, just a bit of chocolate. I need a little extra dessert. Dessert dessert. It’s for morale. It’s important, during lockdown, that we keep up our morale.”

In terms of begging for food, most dogs show more restraint.

Not all of Man’s behaviour has become dog-like. Out in the street, Man is never tempted to chase cars and trucks â€" except for the garbage truck, which he sometimes runs after, dressed in his shorty pyjamas, yelling “wait, wait, come back, I forgot to put out the bin”.

I always joke to myself: what would he do if he caught it!

He still doesn’t care for fetching sticks, it’s true, but give him a few more weeks of lockdown and I can see him out there, crouched in front of Lady as if to say “Just once more. Throw it once more. Please throw it once more.”

His eyes would swivel back and forth between the stick in Lady’s hand, and the place in which he expects the stick to land. It could provide hours of fun for both of them.

As it is, both Man and Lady have taken to watching exercise videos on YouTube. A young Brit called Joe Wicks shouts out orders, and they follow them.

“Up with the knees,” says Joe Wicks, and up go their knees like pistons in a factory. “Now, jump over the box you’ve placed on the floor,” says Joe Wicks, and they jump over the box they’ve placed on the floor.

It reminds me, in every detail, of a dog obedience show â€" the shouted commands, the automatic obedience, the “make-work” nature of the whole enterprise.

Personally, I don’t go for this stuff, never have. Still, Man and Lady seem keen.

There are sheepdog trials later in the year. Maybe I could register Man and Lady. I think they’d do quite well.

Until then, hope you are well,

Love Clancy.

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