Not again!
There are three types of dog owner.
The first type is the Gentleman. A Gentleman will have a gundog, a breed that is noble, right, true and godly. Such a dog will be up at dawn, spend the day chin-deep in fen, bracken, bog or field retrieving the remains of the fowl blasted out of the sky by his master and still have the energy to lie in front of a fire all evening and, as occasion demands, be blamed for the strange smells emanating from any older relatives. A Gentleman may also have hounds. These are, after all, modern times.
The second type is the Player. A Player will have a terrier. Wire-haired or smooth it is principally a rat-catcher with character. Cats are all very well for mice or making the house smell of mad old women but when it comes to country-rats, that have grown to huge proportions eating the oats from the barn and the occasional unlucky sheep, you need something that knows no fear and very little sense.
Finally you have your air-hear heiress. I’m not sure what breed exactly it is that she has but, judging by recent reports, they take all of the hair they’ve removed from her pee-pee place and stick it around a yapping noise to make them.
Even this last variety of owner is better than the sort of people who don’t own dogs but rather just have them, the same way they have a crappy little car with a crappy body-kit and a shocking sound-system in it. Like their ill-spelled tats, they believe that getting a certain kind of dog will make them look hard. For these people (oh, and drug dealers) the animal of choice is the pit-bull terrier. This is because it does make people cross the street to avoid it and this is because it’s well known that the only way to stop a pit-bull is to hit it with something heavy - preferably the 8:20 from Paddington.
Like a man who’s had one sprout too many, I’m in danger of repeating myself when it comes to dangerous dogs (http://gentlemanandplayer.blogspot.com/2006/10/doggies.html) but even worse is when the dangerous dogs go on repeating their behaviour, in this case eating a child. Again.
You can tell a lot about a dog by its arse. Gundogs have an arse usually covered in mud, gorse and a wagging tail. Terriers have a puckered little arse to ensure no water or anything gets up there. Pubewawaws (or whatever) usually have an arse pointed down into a handbag and about to do something catastrophic as a result of their owner putting them on the Atkins. Pit-bulls have their arse-hole on the end of their leash - or usually not, usually strutting alongside.
I’m not advocating cruelty to animals but…
1) All pit-bulls need to be battered to a puree with a length of scaffolding. Now. Period.
2) Same goes for the owners.
3) We’re back to arses again, I suggest that a true test of control would be to shove a dollop of mustard up a pit-bull’s arse (race horse fashion) then lock it in the boot of its owner’s car, with the owner, then turn the stereo on. If the owner can control the dog in such circumstances, all well and good, if not…the boot stays locked.
The first type is the Gentleman. A Gentleman will have a gundog, a breed that is noble, right, true and godly. Such a dog will be up at dawn, spend the day chin-deep in fen, bracken, bog or field retrieving the remains of the fowl blasted out of the sky by his master and still have the energy to lie in front of a fire all evening and, as occasion demands, be blamed for the strange smells emanating from any older relatives. A Gentleman may also have hounds. These are, after all, modern times.
The second type is the Player. A Player will have a terrier. Wire-haired or smooth it is principally a rat-catcher with character. Cats are all very well for mice or making the house smell of mad old women but when it comes to country-rats, that have grown to huge proportions eating the oats from the barn and the occasional unlucky sheep, you need something that knows no fear and very little sense.
Finally you have your air-hear heiress. I’m not sure what breed exactly it is that she has but, judging by recent reports, they take all of the hair they’ve removed from her pee-pee place and stick it around a yapping noise to make them.
Even this last variety of owner is better than the sort of people who don’t own dogs but rather just have them, the same way they have a crappy little car with a crappy body-kit and a shocking sound-system in it. Like their ill-spelled tats, they believe that getting a certain kind of dog will make them look hard. For these people (oh, and drug dealers) the animal of choice is the pit-bull terrier. This is because it does make people cross the street to avoid it and this is because it’s well known that the only way to stop a pit-bull is to hit it with something heavy - preferably the 8:20 from Paddington.
Like a man who’s had one sprout too many, I’m in danger of repeating myself when it comes to dangerous dogs (http://gentlemanandplayer.blogspot.com/2006/10/doggies.html) but even worse is when the dangerous dogs go on repeating their behaviour, in this case eating a child. Again.
You can tell a lot about a dog by its arse. Gundogs have an arse usually covered in mud, gorse and a wagging tail. Terriers have a puckered little arse to ensure no water or anything gets up there. Pubewawaws (or whatever) usually have an arse pointed down into a handbag and about to do something catastrophic as a result of their owner putting them on the Atkins. Pit-bulls have their arse-hole on the end of their leash - or usually not, usually strutting alongside.
I’m not advocating cruelty to animals but…
1) All pit-bulls need to be battered to a puree with a length of scaffolding. Now. Period.
2) Same goes for the owners.
3) We’re back to arses again, I suggest that a true test of control would be to shove a dollop of mustard up a pit-bull’s arse (race horse fashion) then lock it in the boot of its owner’s car, with the owner, then turn the stereo on. If the owner can control the dog in such circumstances, all well and good, if not…the boot stays locked.
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home