Ruby, Stray’s very bouncy boxer, has an obsessive-compulsive disorder. It’s official. A leading animal psychologist, who described her as one of the most obsessive dogs she has ever worked with, diagnosed Ruby recently. This very clever and experienced psychologist did not manage to cure Ruby of her obsession. We could live with Roo’s particular peccadillo if it involved compulsively tidying away her bones or obsessively washing her paws after a muddy walk. We might even learn to live with her switching off all of the electrical appliances in the house before retiring to her basket. Unfortunately she is yet to learn any of these skills. Little Roo’s particular obsession is for sheep and so, having brought her to live in a village where sheep outnumber humans by at least ten to one, Ruby thinks that all her doggy Christmases have come at once. Ruby likes to chase the sheep. The local farmers do not want Ruby to chase the sheep. This presents us with a problem.
A dog with an irresolvable psychological problem is something of a bus driver’s holiday for me. Ruby’s OCD, however, pales into insignificance when faced with the identity disorder of Stray’s so-called Siamese cat, Ophelia.
‘Siamese cat’ is just one of Ophelia’s multiple identities. Ophelia is actually a wallaby (please note the above evidence.) It is a well-known fact that wallabies are mentally unstable, and Ophelia – or ‘wallaby-cat’ – is no exception. Wallaby-cat doesn’t just have an identity disorder, she has a fully blown Borderline Personality Disorder.
Wallaby-cat loves, loves, lurves you…..you really are her bestest friend in the whole world…..no-one has ever understood her like you do…..where have you been all her life?....you make her feel loved like never before. Until that fateful moment when you just fail to meet her needs by a whisker (forgive the pun) and she hates you with a passion that can only be expressed by biting very hard on exposed flesh. Wallaby-cat believes that the sole purpose of your existence is to minister to her every need. As bus-driver’s holidays go, this is much less pleasurable than chasing sheep.
When I asked Badger if she thought that Frank, her ginger tom, had any neurotic disorders she thought very long and hard before answering ‘he’s a boy’. Whilst it’s true that Frank’s boyness is his defining characteristic – he manages a delicate balance of testosterone fuelled hunting trips for local vermin with lounging passively in Badger’s arms – as far as I am aware ‘masculinity’ has yet to be classified as a psychiatric disorder. Please do correct me if I am wrong.
Stray is currently writing a book that meanders through anthropology, psychology and evolutionary biology before stumbling headlong into the arena of global warming. She is trying to persuade her co-author that Chasing Sheep is a catchy and appropriate title.
Let’s face it, don’t we all just try very hard not to chase the sheep?
