Note: This blog entry was based on a true Facebook story. Names, dates and sexual preferences may have been changed to protect the innocent.
So I was walking to work. Picture it now. Wait, here’s a photo I took that will help you:
Yeah, now we got it. So just about THERE I passed a lady and her dog. The dog was doing something doggy – sniffing, peeing, quoting Marx – which the lady did not like.
So she pulled the dog closer on the leash and said:
“Tusse, I TOLD you not to do that, why don’t you ever listen to me?”
Which, since it was a dog, is probably a bit pointless.
This reminded me of a previous dog-lady anecdote (oh yes, a thin thread, I grant you). On that occasion another old lady was walking in a park, along a small path, dragging a reluctant dog behind her.
A moped was coming, quite fast, so the lady pulled the dog in and said to it sternly:
“Watch out Moppsy, there’s a moped coming!”
I just like that she felt the dog had to receive extra information as to the precise form of the imminent danger.
Of course, I can’t talk – I regularly speak to myself while working or doing stuff at home, whispering fiercely about this or that while work-mates and pets look on in deep amusement.
Oh well, at least I don’t go for a dump on the pavements. Not yet, anyway.
NOTE: Next Wednesday, October 21st, I will once again host the Four Stone Hearth Anthropology blog carnival. Please send in your links to anything vaguely relevant. That is all.