Animal farm

I saw a Big Tit today (actually, I think they’re called Great Tits but that just sounds like a come on…). The trees in our neighbourhood and local parks are teeming with different birds including woodpeckers, blackbirds, starlings, sparrows and a variety of Tits!
Although if you think that’s exotic (probably not) – my partner saw gorillas in the wild yesterday! I think that is the poker equivalent of a royal flush beating a pair… insert your own jokes.
No turkey trauma on our walk today, thankfully, and no sign of bad dog no. 2 and his fucktard owner whom we saw in the distance yesterday evening. And that’s exactly what we did do; keep our distance. (Incidentally I’m loving the word fucktard so expect it to make several more special guest appearances.)
Anyway, I’ve found out a little more about dangerous dog no. 2. It is a cross pit bull. Purebred pit bulls are illegal in this country, and in the US I think. Dogs that are x PB however, are not illegal, but must be muzzled and kept on a lead. Guess what, his owner doesn’t bother. His owner (who also owns a Rottweiler) also doesn’t think it’s a problem that the PB attacks the Rottweiler (I’ve seen him have to physically pull the PB off the Rottie. He then screams and shouts at the PB – because that will work.) Even THIS is not enough for him to keep the dog on a lead. He must really have a very small penis…
So we have two potential dangerous dogs that use the park; a Staffie cross (mentioned before) and the PB cross. And they are only that way because of what human beings have done to them. Well done us.
I often wonder if I’d not be happier living in a cabin in the woods only ever seeing my friends occasionally who are all very wonderful. Frankly the rest of society is far too unpredictable and hostile.
I’m going to see the boarding kennels tomorrow, where my beloved Pluto might be having a farm holiday whilst we are having a city holiday in New York at the end of May. The good thing about this place is that you don’t make appointments, when I asked whether I could look around and did I need tell them when I would be turning up, the man said, come along whenever you like. That suggests to me they are a well- run establishment that has nothing to hide. They are also registered, another important point. I’m going to find it terribly hard to say goodbye to him even though it’s only for a week. He’s my precious little boy and the thought of him unhappy or pining away for us is too awful to contemplate. (And no I don’t feel embarrassed at having written that sentence! If you don’t love ‘em, don’t have ‘em I always say. Actually I’ve only said that once… about a sentence ago…)
If I get a good feeling about the farm and it’s well-run and clean, and the dogs look happy then I’ll make the reservation and I’m sure it will be fine. It will be like when he had the snip – I was a wreck but he sailed through the whole thing without a care in the world.
Kids eh…
(PS. The photo is by David Bailey and other than being of a donkey which is an animal which fits in loosely with the subject title, I'm including it because it's a fantastic photograph!)