Life unleashed

It was that annual time again for the celebration of bluegrass music in the county of Waterford, in the Republic of Ireland. Our family had been fans of the various bands who played there at the festival held there that time of year. Although the weather there was only twenty seven degrees Celsius in the little town of Tramore: to us from one of the wettest areas of Northern Ireland, we denoted this occasional weather as equivalent to a torrid and scorching hot standard. We weren't at all accustomed to these sorts of temperatures, and were weaklings with regard tolerance to the sun.

The journey there had been tough on slightly dehydrated little Teddy, as we checked upon him upon arriving at the coastal town's caravan park. He devoured the pan of water with ravenous thirst after he approached us with the per usual warm greeting. He had been slightly apart from our physical contact in the rear of the car and so not as capable of receiving affection from us, and so was glad to get out of our vehicle. The first thing we had thought of contemplating after the eight and a half hour journey there throughout the previous night was to sleep like babies after checking in and getting everything organised.

Many of the small roads to the destination were tortuous and winding in nature, and so I was glad to be stationery again, in order to recuperate from my travel sickness. Four hours later we awoke at two o'clock in the afternoon, and following a meal escorted each other into the heart of the village to enlighten ourselves to the melodic ambience created by live bands we were familiar with the sound of, and it brought back an annual feeling of summer nostalgia within me.

My brother quickly started to chat with one of the members of the new bands there following one of the gigs; I guess the curiosity of how they achieved their unique novel, yet simultaneously bordering upon traditional bluegrass sound, made him inquisitive. It wasn't long before I was incorporated into the conversation also, along with my family. The fourteen year old boy was mature sounding with regard musicality, but I secretly resented it when he turned to me four times throughout the conversation and said, " So you don't play anything or sing yourself?" He was being deliberately arrogant with this pretentious contrived forgetfulness. With that mentioned, I knew I'd be dismissed as redundant as being of any interest to him or his family members; as opposed to the rest of my family who did actually play music, and so spent much time keeping an eye on wee Ted our Shetland sheepdog.

After the afternoon session of band laying had ceased at an interval, I returned to the caravan park with my dog; by that time the place really had come alive with a great spritely atmosphere, compared to the earlier hours of the day at eight o'clock in the morning. People were outside dressed in their summer clothes having cool drinks beneath the parasols, and I could also tell that a lot of visitors to the caravan park were themselves too good instrumentalists and vocalists.

After a bit of iced tea and a scone, I couldn't help but overhear Michael's band's cd album playing in the background, coming from a stereo in one of the caravans. I decided to then go for a dander around the place and the dog Ted ambled around with me. It was clear he was starting to cheer up, as it became evident that he was not the only little dog in that park and he soon made new acquaintances. There was a Lassie dog there, two Yorkshire terriers, and one West Highland terrier there too staying that night with their owners. He immediately barked excitedly as another little friendly creature followed by another came into vision.

Unfortunately, he became overly so, and trying to establish which dogs were bitches proved too onerous a task for young Teddy, who had not much experience with four legged friend interaction; as a consequence he remained in a confused state made worse by his sexual excitement. He knew it was bound to be against the odds to have so many dogs present as potential partners, but the release of his youthful hormones stormed open the floodgates to his emotions and overran his abilities at discernment as to which sex they all were. As a result he unanimously selected every pet in sight as a mate, and mounted them all; it really is a wonder how humans too weren't straddled by Teddy's forelegs, and the legs of tables and chairs also!

It was so embarrassing yet heartening, as it seemed to transform into caricature format, the music of Michael's band, as the music was played louder to drown out the thunderous sound of the high pitched yelping barks of all the dogs all around conducting overt sexual behaviour. I ambivalently froze in my step, as I was overwhelmed by it all as to how to act as Teddy just wasn't obeying me, and yet I thought it was quite comical and befitting of mockery to Michael, which I admit was something I in part welcomed. I tried to concentrate on the situation but the loudness of the music seemed to exacerbate the situation, adding to all of the dogs' excitability. I tried to communicate this with the neighbours, but they were concentrating on getting their dogs away from ours. I eventually stopped smirking at my covert dislike for rude Michael, and instead returned to reflect on the situation at hand , and become more proactive at fixing it.

Teddy ran from one corner of the grass to the next area of the next neighbouring four legged friend; it was almost like a never ending round of a musical chairs game. The ends, pauses, and beginning of the tracks on the cd were almost in synchrony with the initiating of Teddy's new friendly 'interactions.' Luckily, he wasn't successful with any of these dogs but did manage to knock down chairs and food racks on tables during his travels, as his hind legs and tail caught on table cloths. During this renaissance experience of what it was like to mate for him, it was clear that this was to be something everyone who was there would remember Ted for.

From a distance, I suppose he would have resembled a furry ball inside a ping ball machine hitting knock off pings at all 360 degree moves multi directionally. The mere result of calling him was the resumption of his desired activity as per se that moment. None of the dogs that were male seemed to mind overly; they would just hurry on ahead in their tracks in avoidance of the overhanging hairy stranger on top of them. I eventually put Ted on his lead and gently coerced him away from the other dogs around.

Everyone around simply spewed out with infectious laughter; it was too lovely a day to take anything seriously or make other visitors feel uneasy. They were all clearly all amicable, affable and jocular thinking. As the night drew in later, after much music band inspection, Teddy very quickly grew tired. He sat by us as we barbecued steak and burgers for the few neighbours we had inadvertently annoyed earlier by having their lunch ruined and whisked into the air. Needless to say, we also discussed and concluded that, as we weren't interested in breeding pups from Ted, that we should neuter him promptly within the next following months.

It certainly had been a canine dirty dancing day with musical bluegrass bumps and humps on the green, green grass of Tramore.