First time it happened on Wednesday. Come on Fudges, let’s go, said mom.
It was early morning – figured we were going for a walk. Dashed out the front door onto the grass.
This way, said mom, we’re going in the car.
She put my crate down and opened the door. I leapt nimbly into the back seat. Looked at her expectantly. So… where are we off to then?
Mom was busy fiddling with the heater and did not answer me.
Turns out we were going to the dressing gown dude.
Except this time it was a lady vet. Quite a nice one too. Very gentle and kind.
Except, of course, for when she first saw me and burst into a fit of hysterical giggles trying to figure out my lineage.
She asked mom – what kind of a dog is she?
Mom gazed at me thoughtfully.
A bit of everything really. Corgi, Labrador, Ridgeback – definitely Basset Hound if you look at her feet.
Perhaps a bit of bush pig too.
Bush Pig? Did you ever! How insufferably rude. Quivered with indignation.
The vet lady laughed some more and called her colleague to come and also have a guess.
Mom tried to make up for it by letting me burrow my head in her boobs while I had my yearly jabs saying – it doesn’t matter what Fudges is made up of – she’s the best dog in the whole world.
I shed 6 223 hairs on her new black scarf. That will teach her not to hoodwink her little doglet.
The second time was when we went walkabout on Saturday.
Not only did we go really late. As in so late that all the other mutts had finished their walks already and there were no bums to sniff.
When we got to the top of the hill I did my usual – started charging off into the veld… swift as a Springbok (none of this bush pig malarkey I tell you).
Usually Alpha yells at me and redirects me back onto the pathway so that I don’t disturb the wretched Kiewit nests.
But this time… nothing.
Turned around and ran back to him. So… where’s the ball then?
Unbelievable! He forgot it in the car and was too darn lazy to go back and fetch it.
Ghah!
* As told to Ginny Stone.
