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  • allan

So......find a new profession they say. Well it's not a new profession but it will be my lock down goal. To design a 'poo bag' that is easy to open and make my life easier when walking Hershial. (By the way Hershial is Harry in jewish. One of my friends calls him that) So now that he is Hershial we will have to be circumcised. Oh no not the cone of shame again. Also the poor thing can't afford to loose any more of his private parts. Ok he can stay a gentile. Maybe I'll have him barmitzvahed when he is 13. Anyway back to the poo bag. Those of you who have a dog will know how difficult it is to get the bag out of it's little plastic holder (especially with gloves on) and then find the end where it opens. Now you need to lick your fingers to get it open and in these times that is not advisable. So as you struggle to open it Harry is standing looking at me. Even after about 1468 poos he still doesn't know why I have to pick it up. I suppose that is understandable. Can you imagine your wife standing by your side in the toilet waiting to pick up your shit. So as I said my goal is to be able to pull the bag out of a receptacle and it opens automatically. I have heard of a pooper scooper that you can place over the poo and it grabs the poo up and you can through it away. But I haven't found one yet.

Right that's my future sorted. What else has Hershial been doing. Well I'm afraid he is a kleptomaniac . He gets a kick out of stealing anything he can find. He goes into jacket pockets and steals gloves, masks, tissues. Oh yes he loves to eat tissues. He finds them in the street and carries them in his mouth till he gets home and swallows them. He doesn't seem to have any taste buds either. We spend fortunes on Butterbox food (liver beef lamb) but he eats horse shit. What is the point.

He is such a part of the family now. I said to Jane would you sell him for a million pounds. She said not ever for 10 million pounds. I said would you sell me for a million pounds. She said I'd give you away for nothing ......nice.

At least I now know where all the odd sox are going. Battersea Dog home.

Bye xxx

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  • allan

Well.....the cone came off, Harry not me, and he hasn't changed one bit. Still loves to bite me at some point every day. I have always been the one that gets down and plays rough with him so I have to accept the blood and pain.

We have settled into a doggy routine and Jane does three long long walks come rain or shine and I do the 6 minute walk just after news at ten. My walk is filled with stress because if I come back in and he hasn't done a poo, I get the blame. Me .... how can I get my dog to do a poo. He is in complete control of his arsehole, but I still get a loud tut when I say with a frown on my face....'sorry darling no luck' He then goes crazy for about 15 minutes running around with my socks and pants.....(eugh) in his mouth. He eventually calms down and sleeps between the bathroom, the window beneath the curtain and the bed. I have to say I love him on the bed. He sometimes lies with his face right next to either Jane or me. I turn over and a moustache tickles my face......I'm used to that though because Jane refuses to get electrolyses. We had found a wonderful hotel for Christmas (the Fish in the Cotwalds ) but sadly Covid has put the kibosh on that. (What is the kibosh....I must google that)

So what about panto. I had rehearsed for a week at Milton Keynes but alas covid struck again and we were all sent home. We had a fantastic 10 days of fun. Andy and I and Claire Sweeney. She is great fun.....loves a fart, and got as close as the dress rehearsal but they closed us down at that point. At this point I'd like to mention a company Shortletting.com. They are refusing to refund the money I paid up front for my apartment in Milton Keynes. They are keeping 7 days for no reason at all and I have no way of getting it back. Out fxxxxxg ragous. We are hoping to de the show end of March (an easter Panto) but the way things are going that's probably not going to happen ether. But hey....we are all still well and that's the main thing. We will be back next year at the Kings with the biggest panto ever seen and a new enthusiasm that will blow the roof off.

Have a wonderful Christmas and I'll see you on the other side (that's new year not heaven)

Bye

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  • allan

Well....the dreaded deed has been done. The snip. His humpiness had been growing by the day. Other dogs, Jane, me. Mind you it's so long since anyone has looked at me it that way, I took it as a compliment. That wasn't the final straw though (not plastic) While Jane was walking him his 20 miles 3 hours a day, he caught the scent of a woman (good title for a film) and ran off. He disappeared out of sight and at one point Jane thought he had run onto the street. Fortunately he hadn't and she eventually caught up with him. Anyway his fate was sealed. 'Off with them' she said.

So one wet miserable November day we walked Harry to the new vet. He looked so happy, obviously not realising his reason for living was about to be ended. He sat on the vet's table and was fine till he put the stethoscope on him. Maybe it was cold, I don't know, but he turned on him, with an angry growl. The vet was quick to move and said he would be fine. We left him and went back home. We felt the same way as when we left David at boarding school. The difference was David didn't have his balls cut off, although Mr Ryan Tutt nearly did on a few occasions. What a horrible little trumpet playing teacher twat Tutt was. He mocked David and his musical ambitions every chance he got.......well who has the last laugh now Tutt.

Where was I ....Oh yes snip. We went back to pick him up about 4 and as we sat in the waiting room we could here him howling.....nae..... wailing from his cage. I wondered if the vet would give us his testicles in a jar, you know how they sometimes give you your gall stones. Anyway I didn't really want them, truth be known. So off we went, with cone of shame round his little neck. He looked so sad. He slept quite a bit but didn't seem to be any different. HIs bark wasn't higher or he didn't walk with lisp. He was normal. Still biting me at every oporchancity. (a little Francie and Josie word there) He seemed to be fine and actually managed to cope quite well with the cone. Jane was the stitches checker and while studying that area she noticed this little willie was wet looking. It was red and didn't look quite right. So back to his favourite vet he went. Yes it seemed to be a little infection. So the cone had to stay on longer and he was given some cream to massage into his appendage. He's a quick learner and Jane noticed that he sat very still and seemed to have a slight smile on his face as she rubbed it in. I said well if you rubbed cream into my willie I would probably act the same way.

On that note I shall leave doggy bloggy and carry on with my slow cooked lamb.


Bye.

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