Tag Archives: dog

1028. An improbable story with a facile slant, about a dog

Jocelyn had always envied those who won the silver platter at the annual village greyhound racing derby. Every year, for the past eleven years, she had entered a dog in the premiere race and not won a thing. This year it was going to be different. She had prepared for this race for more than two years.

An unfortunate thing, however, was that when her new greyhound puppy was born she named it Toilet. Some people have no idea if you ask me. It was a cruel name; even for a dog. But Toilet it was. Jocelyn insisted. How pathetic is that?

Fourteen dogs lined up at the start line, including Toilet. Off they went! Toilet was lagging behind the other thirteen.

“GO TOILET!” screamed Jocelyn.

All thirteen opposition stopped to do their business. Toilet raced ahead.

Jocelyn took the silver platter home. She changed her dog’s name to Victorius.

974. A dog’s life

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So often it is hard to imagine what something is like until you’ve been there.

Ivan had a dog, an Alsatian. He always wondered what went on in a dog’s head. It could smell and see and hear so much more acutely than anything Ivan could imagine. Did it have a smell-scape, in a way that we map the world visually and deck it with sound? If only he could be a dog for an hour!

“You wish to be a dog for an hour?” asked the genie who had suddenly appeared out of the paperweight on Ivan’s desk. “Go! Be a dog for an hour.”

THE STENCH! OMG! The reeking stink of every room! Ivan went into his kitchen and spewed his guts out. The unbelievable aroma of putrid crap and rancid food.

Ivan ran outside. Again the smell was overpowering. Thousands upon thousands of pongs bombarded him from every direction at once.

When the hour was up, Ivan was found lying on the sidewalk. Dead.

867. Veronica’s dog

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Veronica loved her dog. It was a Yorkshire terrier. Its name was Randolph.

How she loved it; loved it, loved it. Poor little Randolph had arthritis. It didn’t stop him from looking after her though. He would hobble painfully to tell her of an encroaching visitor. It would cuddle up to her closely when he knew she was lonely. It was as loyal as they come. It suffered quite a lot. It did it’s best to make Veronica happy. Oh, if only some humans were so other-orientated. But Veronica had him put down. It broke her heart.

Eventually Veronica herself died. She went to heaven.

Eye has not seen, nor ear heard, nor have entered into the heart of man the things which God has prepared for those who love Him.

“Where’s my dog?” asked Veronica.

800. They’re away today

(No audio today!)

My Master is away today and it is meant to be the 800th story on the 800th day. We really can’t let the occasion go by without a commemoration of some sort. Usually I’m not allowed near the computer, but since no one is here, I shall step in and take charge.

My name is Delia. I am a dog. It’s certainly a dog’s life, and I seem to be the dog’s body around here.

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The first thing I did this morning was to jump into a proper bed and have a sleep-in. Normally I’m not allowed anywhere near the bed, let alone under the blankets.

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The next thing I did was to get Jeeves (he’s the butler) to drive me around the farm. There are so many animals to keep in order.

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When I got back it was time for my walk. I don’t know how they managed to arrange it but somehow the Pope took me, as you can see from the picture. The crowds were phenomenal.

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Then of course it was time to eat, so the cat said grace first (she is such a hypocrite). She did it obviously because the Pope was there. She never usually bothers.

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And then (you won’t believe this) after eating she pretended to read the Bible.

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Of course, the Pope told us to be nice to everyone, so I’ve been trying. First with the silly old cow.

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And then with her silly old calf.

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And finally with the silly old stuffed toy. I’m sick of kissing everyone.

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I’m not going to be nice to the goat. He’s a bit of an old devil.

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Hark! (or rather, Bark!) I hear a car! They’re arriving back home! I shall hastily press the post button for all of this. The cat and I shall sit on the veranda and look innocent.

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We haven’t done a thing all day. We’ve been so good. Have a nice day one and all!

772. Wag

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Paul had a dog called Wag. He’d had it for three years. When his mother took seriously ill four hour’s drive away, Paul thought the quickest way to get there was to hitch-hike. He couldn’t find anyone to look after Wag, he was in too much of a hurry, so he took the dog along as well.

It works both ways; hitch-hiking with a dog. Some people won’t pick you up because you’ve got a dog. Other people will pick you up because you do have a dog. It didn’t take long before Paul got a ride.

The driver was very friendly and loved dogs. He said he had two dogs at home. One was a poodle and the other was a husky. Their names were Paddles and Ice.

After a couple of hour’s driving, the man said he needed to pull in at a rest stop. So he pulled over at the first convenience and left Paul in the car with the dog. Then Paul went to the wayside rest room while the nice man minded the dog.

And when Paul came out, the car had gone.