Never trust a Husky

By The General on October 17, 2016
  • Never trust a Husky

    Here he is with his Elizabethan collar, swooning while the missus fusses over him...

We had some drama last week when the Golden Leave-it-There lost a chunk of his ear to a Husky. 

The missus had him down in Melbourne, which is asking for trouble anyway - people sneak around picking up your poo down there. It's spooky. A dog is just having a quiet morning moment to himself and there's some turkey closing in with an orange plastic bag. Spooky and unsettling.

By all accounts they were out at Yarra Bend, which I don't mind now and then myself because there's always a bit of action. Plenty of girls in tight togs running along the tracks with their Pointers and Weimaraners - smooth-haired prissy dogs I reckon, like blokes who shave their legs. But one way or another there's plenty to look at.

So, the missus and the Leave-it-There are getting back to the car after a walk (he doesn't run much) and he spots this Husky, on a lead attached to another bloke with shaved legs, who's running up and down doing sprints. Must have been showing off. The bloke, the dog, both - who knows?

Leave-it-there bounces cheerfully over to the Husky, his tail flouncing in the breeze to please the missus - and the Husky takes a piece of his ear, just like that. I mean, why did he want to talk to the Husky in the first place?

According to the Boss, it's because he's affable. I don't do affable, myself. If it had been me, I would have taken that Husky apart. Piece by piece. Well, depending on how big he was I guess. Or maybe if he snarled a lot I might have just nipped in for a quick bite.

But the thing is, you gotta be careful of a dog on a leash. I know it myself. You can't get away or do your own thing - and there's this need to protect the Boss, which he relies on me for, I know. So when you're on the leash, and a dog running free comes close, you take a piece of him automatically. That's what dogs do.

And that's the problem with the Leave-it-There. He doesn't consider himself a dog. He thinks he's better than us and closer to human - which isn't better than us anyway but that's for another day. And because he doesn't think like a dog, he does really stupid things.

At the moment he has this pink thing on his head - the missus calls it an Elizabethan Collar - a very fancy name for this sharp-edged thing that he's thrusting at me when I get close. He knows it hurts - he learned that pretty quickly - so he's pacing around like a kid with a shang-eye.

It's pathetic really. The missus is putting cream on his ear and he just closes his eyes and laps it up. Makes me sick. She fusses over him something awful - thought she was dying herself when she got the red stuff all over her. He din't feel much at all, I reckon, but he's lapping it up. Then when she's gone he comes poking after us. 

There's no justice in the world. Woof.

By The General on October 17, 2016

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