We Talk Friday
(WTF)
This is a semi-regular series that I will run on Fridays to hold discussions on a current topic from the week gone. The aim is to keep them light and conversational, though some might be heavier - regardless of the content topic itself though, just have some fun engaging and discussing with whoever happens to put in the effort in the comments section below.
Since today is a special day for my family, as we have now got Puusti the dog, I thought I would open up the conversation to uncover some memories from you, the audience. What I am looking for is a funny or interesting experience you have had with a dog or cat that you want to share with the world. Pets tend to create a lot of positive experiences and perhaps in today's world, it might be as close as some people get to experiencing love.
When I was a kid, one of the dogs we had was a "bitsa" a mixed breed that was a bit of this and a bit of that. It was a sheepdog at heart, but it was insane. I was scared of it. And one day, my brother and I were "trapped" in an old cubbyhouse with the dog prowling outside, biding its time, wating for us to emerge so it could devour us. This thing was fast! It was named King,
So, my older brother decided the plan for us to escape would be he would call it to one side window, while I went out the door and made a dash for a large tree at the front of our yard, which was about 200 meters away.
Great plan, bro!
So he called King and the dog went to the window, jumping up and trying to get in while I first crept through the door and then put all I could into making a run for the tree. It didn't take a moment for King to realise he had been tricked and came after me. And while as a kid I was pretty bloody quick myself, within a few moments, I could hear him closing in on me, his panting, his tongue slapping around his crazy face, and the rhythmic thud of his paws on the burnt summer ground.
I could see the tree.
It was so close and with my heart pounding, I dared to believe that I was going to make it in time. I had beaten the King. Yet, I had counted my chickens, but they hadn't hatched yet and just as I was a couple steps from the tree, King being the sheepdog he was, bit my ankle and the shock of it made me lose my footing and instead of a graceful swing into the tree, I thumped my forehead square on the flat surface where my father had cut a dead branch away a few days earlier.
I wasn't seriously hurt.
Though I was heavily dazed. Yet even in a near fugue state, the fear of the real danger was still ahead, that King would finish me off. From my sprawled position in the dusty grass, I looked up and saw King staring down at me, but instead of a snarling face, there was a look of complete contentment of a job well done. And from my perspective at least, he nodded his head and then trotted off back in the direction to get my brother.
With the bait already taken, my brother had already made it safe into the house.
Stupid dog.
So what story do you have?
Taraz
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