Me, dogs and big strong men

I’ve been helping a company with its marketing activity recently, involving quite a bit of content writing, which has kind of diluted my creative juices a bit for my pp stuff. But I thought I should get back in the ole saddle before I forget what it’s like to write completely without a direction/brief. Anyway my subject this evening is back to an old shaggy dog theme. In fact it’s about shaggy dogs. Well actually it’s about little dogs. And men. Big old macho men. Or so I thought.

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great grass, man

Well another great day here and I’ve spent most of the day in the garden. The back’s hurting now but I’m showered, feeling clean and revived and ready for tonight’s match which is being shown live here. Can’t wait to be honest. But that’s for later. Earlier today the Scruff monster was at the front door again. But this morning neighbour P and her son A came over for coffee. P’s a big dog lover and was being very affectionate towards the urchin (which is what he ‘s craving). When P and A left I wasn’t surprised to see Scruff march off with them. Maybe his allegiance had shifted. 5 minutes later I could hear P’s own dog – a large Afghan –  barking away. Either the fellahs were having great fun or  Scruff was now in pieces. Either way I was thinking my period of guardianship may be over….

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scruffy and gabby

Well I’ve been told by a couple of women friends that my postings are turning increasingly gentle (they mean girlie) as my distance from mainstream Premiership football lengthens. I thought the Prescott posting was pointedly irreverent, bordering on gleefully malicious but I can’t deny the dawg’s having an effect. I’m turning all LolCats. God, damn it.

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Scruffy; the return

wotcha!

Aw gawd, it’s the dawg.  This little fella was waiting for me first thing this morning. If you’d read yesterday’s posting ‘Cats and Dogs’ you’d know he appeared from nowhere yesterday and just hung around – especially after I’d given him some grub. I expected him to have wandered off overnight but no, here he is. I gave him some prosciutto this morning – the only meat I have in the fridge – which he ate, though a little reluctantly I thought. ‘Scuse me Scruffy son, beggars and choosers and all that. Look at his face after he had it:

Not very happy! I explained to him that we’re not really pet people but I don’t think he understands English too well. What am I going to do with the little bugger…?

pp

 

cats and dogs

Well from my earlier posting you might have imagined from the title (and perhaps secretly hoped, given my gloating over the weather) that this is confirmation that it’s rained today here, scuppering my plans for some garden work. Not a bit of it. The weather looked grim even just across the valley but all day it’s been glorious here. A little cloudy but warm – 20+ degrees – and a nice breeze. No, the title is intended literally; it’s about the four-legged rascals which seem to be be drawn to Casa PP.

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it’s not a dogs life

I heard about another girl this morning who’s been savaged by a pit bull terrier; one of these terrifying animals that locks its jaws onto its ‘prey’. Does this sound familiar? It should do because in the last year in the UK there have been around 3400 cases of people being hospitalised after being attacked by dogs. That’s virtually 10 cases a day, ever day. What’s more it represents a 25% increase in such cases over the last 5 years. So if my maths is correct it’s increasing at the rate of one new savaging every 2 days. Is it just me or wasn’t the Dangerous Dogs Act introduced to staunch this problem? If so, it isn’t working.

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