Thursday, 30 September 2010

Burke and Hare.

I got to say goodbye to Pella again. A three foot square paving slab, wasn't enough to protect her grave from Ted's desire to have just one more look. He's nowhere near as stupid as he appears,( I lie) because after several days of very effective nail filing on top of the slab, the penny finally dropped, that he could get where he needed to be, if he took his JCB feet slightly to the side of the annoying lump of concrete, that was standing between him and yet another smelly reunion with poor old Pella.

I didn't even know what he'd been up to, until he came and sat on the sofa and gave me a kiss. I don't know why I asked him what he'd been up to, when the stink told me all I needed to know, but I did. The routine of walking out into the kitchen, wrapping a tea towel round my face, going to the shed, grabbing the rake, and wandering down the garden looking like some third rate Al-Qaeda recruit, with the canine version of Burke and Hare trotting like a well trained Collie by my side was becoming boringly familiar. We arrived at the desecrated grave site AGAIN, and there isn't a nice way of saying this, so I'll just say, the rake wasn't needed, and reburial wasn't an option. So for the third and final time, sleep tight Welly.

On a walk several days later, the dogs met a woman walking a cat on a lead. What kind of nutter walks a cat, on a pink lead, through a field of cattle? How the hell did she get there? She was at least half a mile from the nearest road. Had she really dragged this fragile creature up a bloody hill that leaves hardened athletes puffing, over a barbed wire fence, through two stiles, manouvered herself and the cat round a minefield of cow turds, to have Fluffy meet it's doom at the hands of Ted? Pie and Madge are rock solid with cats, but I'd be lying if I didn't say that Ted has a history with them. Are the dogs ok with cats, yelled the cat lover. Funnily enough, theyve never met one on a lead up here before, but they are fine. I left the girls to carry on walking, but put Burke and Hare back on his lead, because I could tell the cat lover was as fragile mentally, as Fluffy was physically, and horrendous images of total carnage were flashing through my mind. But, you know what? He walked on by, with little more than a look of envy at the pink lead, and a fleeting sniff of Fluffys arse. I'm proud of my boy, and can now say in all honesty he's fine with cats, but only live ones.

Saturday, 4 September 2010

Teds first kill.

Ted had been annoying the girls since we got back from our walk this morning. They wanted to sleep, and he wanted to lavish Teddy love on them. Poor Madge had tried all the usual tricks, like cleaning his ears and eyes, which usually sends him off into lala land, and Pie gave in and played with the ragger for a while, but Ted wanted them out in the garden with the football, and it just wasn't going to happen. Eventually the girls went to bed, I got on with some stuff, and the boy wandered off. He then found a plastic carrier bag, took it out into the garden, and pranced about with it, looking very effeminate, in a second rate tranny, who wouldn't even be welcome in one of Brightons seedier clubs, kind of way. I'll admit I did have a very brief awwwwwwwwwwww isn't he sweet moment, but mainly I was happy that he was happy, and had found something to occupy him, that didn't involve pain being inflicted on another living being. I left him to it, and started tidying up. After about ten minutes I called him to come in, and he ignored me, so I called him again, and he started barking. I was getting a bit fed up, because although he is without a doubt, the most stubborn of the four Spins Ive had live with me, he's always been pretty good at basic commands. So out I go to have words with him, and find him sat down barking, looking scared, and obviously very upset by something. Then I spotted the mutilated Poundland bag he'd taken outside to play with. In fairness to the boy the gentle breeze that was blowing into what was left of the bag, did make it look like it was writhing in it's death throes, whilst taking it's last gasps, but the reality of his first kill, was clearly far too much for Ted to cope with. He cuddled up with the Mafia, who were still snoring, completely oblivious that Ted is a dismal failure in the Don department.

Friday, 3 September 2010

該死 雄兽 !!

I can't keep saying, "I'm going to kill him" because it's lost it's impact. Ted blatently doesn't think his life's in any kind of danger, and I'm not sure if that makes him very stupid, or if it means he's got me well and truly sussed?
We went swimming early this morning , well, they did, I just stood on the bank, screaming like a girl every time one of them got out and stood right beside me while they shook the water off. On the walk home, Ted (who must be going through the dog equivalent of adolescent boys and their Lynx phase) rolled in a fresh pile of cow poo, and then decided to hump Pie, who really wasn't feeling the love. So now I have two dogs with green goo dripping off their sides, and was thinking to myself that it's a testament to my mental state that it didn't seem like that much of a big deal. Madge was wearing her coat, to keep her warm till we got back, and Ted obviously doesn't feel it's much of a turn on, because she wasn't subjected to Teddy love. Once we got home, I dried Madge, stuck the other two in the shower, and rubbed them dry. Ted went and got a drink ( I should point out that he doesn't drink like a normal dog, he puts his face, right up to his eyes in the bowl, and kind of sucks the water up, whilst blowing air out of his nose) so he gets soaked. All three dogs crashed in the dining room, so I went and had a shower. I wasn't even gone for ten minutes, but during that time, Ted had taken several pieces of the coal stuff that goes in gas fires, chewed them up, turned his wet beard black, and had created what must be the longest sentence in Chinese calligraphy ever, on the walls of the dining room, the stair case, and the landing. I really think today's the day I kill him.
P.S. The black stuff doesn't wash off the walls, but the paint does....yep, today's the day!!