Ode to Gizmo

Here he is... my cutie pie!

I dedicate today’s post to a very close friend – you know who you are – and her Hugo. 

If you know me personally, you know I’m totally and utterly obsessed with Mister Gizmo (a.k.a. Giz, Fiz, amore and some other twenty nicknames). Mister Gizmo is a black labrador that came into my life four years ago and showed me the meaning of true love, but also hard work and commitment. Gizmo is my everything – there’s no way I can put into words what he means to me. Even when he drives me insane with his non-stop barking and begging for food, when he destroyed two mobile phones, my favourite shoes, a passport and a chair because he was teething, and the dozens of times he peed all over the house after a two-hour walk… Gizmo has that something that makes your heart melt. Maybe it’s his droopy eyes. Or the way he knocks over glasses and vases on the coffee table every time he wags his huge tail. I’m sure everyone says that about his dog; still, Gizmo is special.

Our black beauty has epilepsy and is on barbiturates to keep his seizures under control. In theory his medication has a sedating effect, but the little rascal actually surprised several vets with his lively – make that hyperactive – attitude. We can take him out for three hours and he’ll still find the energy to play catch.

A dog can bring so much joy into your life, but it’s also a huge commitment. When you’re out having dinner, you know you have to be home by a certain time to take him for his walk. When you go on holiday, you have to beg your family to house and dog sit. Then there’s vet visits, expensive diet food, toys and accessories. But none of that is a sacrifice, because the unconditional love and loyal companionship you get in return is without a doubt the best gift ever. So take everything into consideration before adopting a dog, because a dog is for life.

I recommend the book Life with Beau, A tale of a dog and his family by Anna Quindlen. It’s short and sweet. And it perfectly describes the way I feel about my Gizzie.

Like Ben the Talking Dog…

Gizmo the Labrador and I have our way of communicating – kisses, paws and all that. When the Malteser and I first adopted the fur ball, I was convinced I could turn him into the world’s first talking labrador. How cool would that be? Like the husky on YouTube that says “I love you”. I failed. So I talk, he listens (I think). In a nutshell, I talk to myself.

A while ago I met a friend who’s taking his first steps in the world of teleworking. He told me the thing he misses the most about his previous life as an office worker with a busy schedule, a secretary and vending machines, is the sound of people around him. You know, chitchat, mobiles, pens clicking. He feels the need to talk to people. He has two dogs. I wonder whether he’s tried to convert them into talking animals. Like Ben the Talking Dog… (just got my first smartphone, so forgive me for mentioning the silliest of apps...).

So, I talk to myself... I know I’m not the only person who does that. Not many will admit it, but I know it’s quite common. I see people talking to themselves while driving all the time. Granted, they could be on the phone, but you’re not going to tell me everyone has a hands-free set – including a seventy-year-old farmer driving a ramshackle van. I admit it: I have entire conversations with myself. I congratulate myself when I’ve finally found that synonym I was looking for – like a little pat on the back. And occasionally I curse my own stupidity – “een zongele kanarietatoeage" (a sun-yellow canary tattoo) instead of “een kanariegele zontatoeage" (a canary-yellow sun tattoo), seriously, what was I thinking?

When I'm translating a text I also read it out loud (I quite like the sound of my voice, but hubby-to-be says it's squeaky). If there's one thing I'll always remember from my translation lectures at uni it's this: the key to a good translation is that it shouldn't sound like a translation, but like an entirely new text. Not an easy task, especially if you're aware of the fact that it is a translation. If you're a translator, let me know whether you agree with this approach or whether you think it's a little unusual!