Ode to a Doggon Booze


This article is not intended to be funny or to deride the animal kingdom and it’s habits.  Some may not like the article and I therefore assume those users should not read the article.  The events depicted in this article did happen and unfortunately the clock cannot be turned back to make it unhappen.  A few friends and I were sitting around a table loaded with wine glasses and a carton of that libation.  A dog named Bella was hanging around too and had to be shoo’d off every now and again but Bella dear decided to remain and dig her feet into the turf.  When someone lifted a glass to cheer the birthday girl Bella dear would rise up on her hind legs and moan in tune with the revellers. Her eyes following the canted glass and slobbering at the contents.  But in all honesty we were not interested in the dog’s wild wants and let it be.  After several fruitful rounds we humanoids decided to call it a day and loaded the glasses and returned to the lounge to finalise this consumption of the fruit of the vine locked into the beat of Black  Sabbath.

The world outside was only a vague shadow with a grunting dog hanging out there somewhere. And so on that note the friends departed one, by one, except the dog. I retired later and rising at the crack of dawn went out to check the yard. What I did find was the remains of a wine carton ripped to bits and a dog in a seriously bad mood sleeping beside the mess she had created. No amount of hollering could wake her but a pathetic muted growl warned me to stay away. Belle is a nasty piece of work, in fact she is a bitch and takes no crap from anyone; Cat, dog, or man and to make matters worse she was loaded with good wine and some bits of cardboard.  A few hours later she was still prone and probably dreaming about her next dop.  Eventually we, with a bucket of water, elevated her to her standard height with her head almost touching the ground.  Now normally a dog,s breath smells like anything you do not want but the breath of bella stank like booze. Bella is a Boer bull, always aggressive and looking for a fight with the loaded washing lines. Now and again I receive a ripped shirt from that line. She is huge and  is a frightful sight when in full charge to clear the postman at the gate and frighten the meter reader. No wonder my meters are never read.

But, despite that she almost amputated my hand I still have a soft spot for the brute. I mean when I return home she charges the car trying to get into it. Bella.s aggression is carried over from her parents who are just as aggressive. I realise that at some point or other I will be forced to get rid of her due to me having small grand children. Nothing stops Bella  Mia.


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