Wednesday, August 27, 2008

DRIVEN TO DRINK

“Sausage dog” (mentioned in an earlier entry) was on the brink of becoming an alcoholic. Well it’s not surprising really! I mean look who the poor thing had for an owner!

It all started one evening when I was partaking of all that’s bad for you (strictly in the food and drink department you understand – No naughties). My husband and I were having a meal with friends and the other man of the foursome suggested I let Wheat off her lead. I did wonder about the wisdom of this in someone else’s home where there was food about and remembered the sausage incident all too well.

“Is that wise”?

I ventured.

“Oh yes”,

Ray said.

“She knows us and can have a good sniff around. There’s no mischief she can get into”.

This man was obviously not a guide dog owner or any dog owner come to that. Well

“Well what the hell”?

I thought.

“In for a sausage, in for a loaf”,

I thought to myself and released my captive retriever who plodded regally round the bungalow as if she were surveying it for prospective buyers. She walked nicely rather than run madly as I could tell from the rhythm of her paws as they padded round the carpet. What I did not know was what she was up to when the paws went quiet. It’s like having a child you know, owning a dog. It’s when all goes quiet that you have to worry. It wasn’t that quiet as we were all talking but suddenly, reminiscent of “sausage day” Ray started to giggle, then to laugh until his wife, my husband and I who hadn’t a glimmer of sight between us said in sheer exasperation:

“What the hell’s wrong with you? What’s up”?

Between hysterical guffaws he said:

“It’s your dog. I’ve got a tray with a glass of Whisky on it between the chairs and she’s coming over, dipping her tail in it, licking it off and then dipping it in again, licking it off and so on”.

She had enough intelligence to realise that if she lapped it out of the glass I’d hear her. This way she could get drunk quietly without me knowing till Ray gave the game away.

Immediately I called her over and was fanned by a Whisky matted tail. Her back end stunk like a public bar and guess who had the job of grooming her tail and washing it off! Poor Ray had to chuck his drink away but wished he’d got a camera in order to photograph and talking of cameras which I wasn’t, if you promise to come back tomorrow I’ll tell you of her vain attempt at stardom. Yes she’s in a stranger’s photo album! Little tike! What a poser! Mind you they say they match them to the owners.

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