As duly noted by FG we dragged Sparrow all over Whitstable on Saturday. It was hot, he was hot and miserable. He stopped wagging his tail at strangers and didn't even summon up the happiness to lick and slobber over anyone by the end of the day. He was a seriously miserable little dog. We took no notice as he insists on coming on outings!
This morning, he decided to get back at me for taking him on said nightmare outing. As is my wont, we went for a walk in the park in the morning, before I leave for work. Exercise for both of us, it clears my mind, it gives him a chance to run, pee, sniff, poop, cavort with other canines and such.
This morning, his highness decided to find the only dead thing in the park and roll in it. Nice. I shouted at him, he jumped up, tongue lolling, looking for all the world, as pleased with himself as you could imagine. I kid you not - if his ears weren't in the way, the doggy grin on his face would have gone all the way around his head.
So, we speed marched around the park, me studiously ignoring smelly little dog cavorting about the long grass like a antelope, surprising the living bejeezus out of a rather frail old Westie (the Fastest Paw in the Westie!) by leaping out at him as he strolled past with his rather superior owner. Angus almost died from fright, the owner merely sniffed in distaste at the youngling's behaviour.
Got the mutt home, eventually, after an extraordinary amount of peeing along the way (him, not me) and tackled him with gardening gloves, fairy dishwashing liquid and some hand towel. He was considerably cleaner by the time I left for work. I worried for our couches.
Got home this evening and found him as white and pure as undriven snow.
The little shit.
He just did it on purpose.
St Sparrow
3 comments:
Ha! Cute... And he looks happy enough in the photo, I reckon.
Trust me - they ALWAYS do it on purpose! Even Westies, but only when they're young. My own Small Dog had a predilection for fox muck - just a good dab behind each ear - as well as (you'll love this), sewage she came across down by the river from god alone knows where. Collars had to be destroyed when she got into that (twice).
Fortunately, when she turned two, both of those unsavoury behaviours stopped cold, and she is now the delicate older lady we all know and love.
St. Sparrow may well grow out of it, but then (apologies, FG!) he is a bloke, and dog blokes are notorious for not changing their ways.
Keep plenty of Fairy on hand for the duration.
WW xx
Been there got the flag :-)
Has he had any sheep tic/ticks?? Nasty wee buggers but being a metropolitan dog he probably won't have had any!!
Nasty... Lyme's Disease and all that ours has had 9 so far global-warming milder winters.
Oh I was just bitten by a....... wee Jack Russell the other day not called Sparrow though, still a great name... wish I'd though on it.
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