Odd word, dogging. At University dogging on meant hanging in there and showing resilience. These days there may be some hanging and resilience involved in the word but otherwise the relationship with al fresco exhibitionist copulation and how we used the expression couldn’t be further apart.
Using the old meaning, though I’m inclined to think my blogging has involved a certain amount of doggin’ on. For some reason the new editor on wordpress won’t let me search easily for earlier posts so I have to try and identify a post close to when I think I wrote such and such a post and then follow for one to the next until the correct one appears.
This did however lead me to one of those rabbit holes that took me right back to the start of my blogging journey (April 2014 if anyone wonders). At about post number five was my first ever attempt at flash fiction, following one of Charli Mills’ prompts at her carrot ranch. Goodness, how many prompts and pieces have there been since then?
This was my piece…
Harry dropped his gaze to avoid looking at Sally. No point; she didn’t know he existed. He looked at the dog.
Milton looked back; he scratched his ear before lowering himself into a squat.
“No. Christ. Not here.”
Milton held Harry’s gaze as he shat on the pavement.
“Great” Harry stared at the sticky turd. He patted his pocket. No bags.
Harry glanced up, wondering if he could leave it. To his horror, Sally was a few paces away. She held out her crisp packet. “Here.”
As Harry cleared up, Sally rubbed Milton’s head. “Cute dog.”
Dogs. Always dogs. Dog had only been with us for a year at that point. He’s appeared on this blog more than most and proves more popular by the day. He’s a great example of doggin’ on. Maybe that would be my phrase, my motto. I wonder what it is in Latin?
I’ve shared this before. It deserves another airing…
It’s been that sort of day… kind of drifty. Maybe it’s because I donated some plasma yesterday; my brain is a bit befuddled. Now that was a fascinating procedure; they take out blood, give it a spin to extract said plasma and return the red stuff until they’ve pulled out 560ml, hand you a chocolate bar or a packet of cheese nibbles and send you on your way with a lot of grateful thanks. I wonder where my old geezer plasma will end up? In some 4G TV perhaps.