Barking Again

June 7th 2006

The Pollitt’s dog You Twat has started barking again. Not very often it must be admitted, and only for short spells and in a very muted manner, and it still hasn’t started howling again, but I’m sure it’s only a matter of time before it will be going at it again with both barrels. And both barrels is what it could very well be getting, from Atkins Down The Road’s twelve bore shotgun if its not careful.

The Trouble said: “You know what’s wrong with that dog, don’t you?”

“Yes,” I replied. “What’s wrong with it is that I only gave it a dozen sleeping pills instead of two dozen and a drop or two of cyanide for good measure.”

“What’s wrong with it,” she went on, ignoring my opinion in favour of her own, as per usual, “is that no one ever takes it out for a walk. Barking is its way of drawing attention to itself, in the hope that someone will get the message and take it out for a walk.”

I chewed on this. The Trouble could well be right. A daily walk might indeed quieten the brute down a little if not silence it altogether. A bullet would achieve the same object and with more certainly but……

The Trouble interrupted my thoughts. “Why don’t you offer to take it a walk?”

“Me?”

“Well it’s you who’s doing all the complaining. And none of the Pollitts are showing signs that they’re ever going to take it out.”

I gave the matter some thought. I live in the Peak District and am surrounded by ideal walking country – Kinder Scout, the highest point of the southern end of the Pennine Chain at just over two thousand feet and set in rugged moor land, is only four miles distant. It is ideal walking country. It is also ideal country in which to accidentally lose a dog if you happened to get a bit careless.

 I’m still thinking about it but it seems it could well be the way to go.

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