How I became a dog's best friend!

I’ve been trying now for the last four years to persuade the family to buy a dog. I’ve even offered to walk the next door neighbour’s chihuahua, that’s how desperate I was. They (the neighbours) agreed, but it never came to pass, as they pretended to be out when I went calling. I knew they were in, because I could hear the pooch (Improbably named ‘Chopper’) being suffocated under a cushion to prevent it barking.

My son has always been in favour of acquiring a pooch and has even claimed that the reason he didn’t have a trouble-free adolescence, was because of a lack of canine companionship. I doubt this is true, because there aren’t too many pub’s that allow dog’s inside in Australia.

This is not true in England, where I had a brief sojourn in November 2008. Over there, they don’t appear to mind the presence of Man’s best Friend (M.b.F) in the local boozer. With the provisos that a) they don’t bite the other patrons and b) don’t crap or piss on the floor, both conditions being very reasonable in my opinion.

I also noticed that there was a preponderance of big dogs over there and in towns and villages, if not large cities, (I didn’t visit any), it’s de rigeur to pick up your dog's shit and deposit it in the bins provided, which is also very civilised. Over here in Aus, we seem to pick smallish pooches such as Jack Russells and Pomeranians, possibly because it’s a lot hotter in the Antipodes.

To get back to my predicament, I had to persuade my Spouse and Daughter to agree to buying a M.b.F. as they are both ‘Cat People’ and we already have one of those horrible, ‘bird killing’ predators, this was not an easy task. I eventually resorted to emotional blackmail and told the Souse that if I had a dog, I would take it for 3 or 4 walks a day and could end up living for an extra ten years. She eventually broke down and agreed to my proposition.

Just before Xmas the progeny and I went to a couple of dog-pounds, looking for a suitable canine for a Christmas present for yours truly. We went about three or four times over the next three weeks, but all we could find were Labradors (too big for me, although the lad fell in love with one with a ‘designer scar’ on it’s snout), Jack Russels (too small for me and him, but the lass thought they were ‘pretty’) and Staffordshire Bull Terriers (too ugly for me, although the kids thought me and them were a perfect match).

To be continued,

Cheers,

SkyBlueSkull.

http://keith-skellern.blogspot.com