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The Wee Man

6th Jan 2007

Mrs D and I decided to buy a new dog. Knowing I was likely to return with more than one if allowed to visit the Dog’s Home on my own, Mrs D insisted on accompanying me. Moreover, she had drawn up a set of strict criteria to which any stray/abandoned dog must adhere to before being considered eligible to join our existing pack of 2 dogs.

a. It must be female (our existing dogs are both bitches)
b. It must be smaller than our existing dogs
c. It must be younger than our existing dogs – but NOT a puppy

‘Remember‘, said Mrs D, sternly, as we entered the Dog’s Home, ‘Only ONE dog !’ As I wandered from Cell to Cell drawing Mrs Ds attention to the numerous dogs which caught my fancy, she reprimanded me.

‘We’ll be here all day at this rate. You’re too soft. We need to do this properly. We need to select a dog based on sound objective reasons – not sentiment. Remember the criteria!‘

So saying, Mrs D took charge (no change there!). She had noticed that The Dogs Home was filling up with people also intent on finding a new pet. Her competitive spirit aroused, she grabbed my arm. Pulling me along behind her, she raced from cell to cell trying to keep ahead of her rivals, examining each dog against her size criteria – ‘Nope, too big!‘

Having drawn up a short-list of ‘small’ dogs, we then revisited these in turn and assessed each in terms of age, and sex. While I played with the ‘prisoners’, enticing them to stand on their hind legs, Mrs D got down on her hands and knees and examined their genitalia (a position Mrs D is not entirely unfamiliar with).

The occupant of Cell 60 (a little Jack Russell trembling nervously) caught my eye. I introduced myself. Unfortunately he failed Mrs D’s sex test. As we turned away, he started to whine. We retraced our steps. The whining stopped. We turned away. The whining started. We went back. The whining stopped.

‘Stay where he can see you‘, said Mrs D, as she stepped away. Nothing!

‘Now‘, said Mrs D. ‘Your turn. I’ll stand in front of his cage. You go outside‘

I did as she said. He started to whine. We stood in the corridor outside watching other people approach his cage, make a fuss of him, and step away – Nothing !

‘Try again‘, said Mrs D.<

I went back in. His little tail wagged. I stepped away. An almighty whining started.

‘Bugger!‘ said Mrs D.

‘Are you sure he’s a male?’ I asked.

‘I know a prick when I see one!’, said Mrs D, glancing in my direction (?)


That evening, as the former occupant of cell 1:60 (now renamed ‘wee Rab’) cocked his leg up against her new leather 3-piece suite Mrs D gritted her teeth and tried to look on the bright side –

‘Oh well,” she said, “2 out of 3’s not bad 


← Decisions, decisions . . .
Ouch !!! →

