Riding into work on the train on a balmy hot day in what some might call Indian Summer, I saw a yellow dog lounging on a shed roof in the sunshine. It was a brief glance, but enough to make out a contented languishing beast, who'd realised that on a day like this there were few better things to do than kick back, relax and watch the world go by.
I envied him his wisdom and lack of agenda.What thoughts go through a yellow dog's mind when basking on a low sloping roof? Nostalgic reveries of puppyhood? What he was was going to eat later? (Ah! Dogfood! Excellent!). Fear of the future? (What am I gonna do when I can no longer fetch the stick?).
No, I think we can surmise that it was none of these things, he wasn't fretting over doing, not done and to do, he was just being dog, and that's what I envied about him the most (and no, I don't yearn to lick my own balls and shit in the street, you lot at the back are always lowering the tone...)
As a postscript, he'd sneaked into my life earlier when the night before, on a TV quiz that rewards obscure knowledge (Pointless, BBC, if you're interested), the question was - Name the bands with colours in their name that recorded these songs. Amongst the Pink Floyd and Black Sabbath titles was an obscure track called 'Just One More Night', by you've guessed it (as I did!) 'Yellow Dog'. (My wife was duly impressed at my recollection of this obscure number).
As a post-postscript, I compile a monthly New Wave streaming radio ('Totally Wired', at Radio Rectangle, if you're interested) and guess what track I played? Yep, that obscure Deep Purple B-side - 'I Can Lick My Own Balls'.
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