Thursday, June 09, 2005

Who Let The Dogs Out?

A man researching dogs' names in Hull has discovered the first case of a dog called 'Asbo' (Anti Social Behaviour Order).
It's a very good name for a dog, as is any short name ending in 'O'. My own dog was called 'Cato' after the philosopher (I can be a bit poncy like that sometimes).
But when I named her (she was female despite her male name) it never occurred to me that it was also the name of Clouseau's sidekick or servant in the Pink Panther films. So when I was looking for her in the park and shouting "Cato, where are you.....I know you're there", passers-by would say: "That's a really crap Clouseau impression."

My dog had a terrific crush on a dog called Sebastian. I thought Sebastian had too many syllables for a dog's name but she was in love so to her it was the most beautiful name in the world.
One day the pair of them ran to the other side of the field where they were in view but out of reach and did the deed. Frankly, it was all very sudden. They didn't know each other very well and had never so much as shared a bowl of Pedigree Chum but with only the briefest and most cursory foreplay, Sebastian was going at it like a turbocharged piston. I was a little disappointed that Cato had sacrificed her virginity so eagerly. Dog-rough, some might say.

What do you do while your dogs are copulating? If you're two Englishmen you stand around and talk about the weather in a rather embarrassed way and pretend that nothing untoward is happening. After all, voyeurism is somewhat distasteful even where animals are concerned - unless your name is David Attenborough.
Eventually, our dogs returned as blasé as if they'd just been chasing sticks and no longer much interested in each other. I asked Cato if she wanted a cigarette. Sebastian's owner was a rather humourless man and gave me a very strange look but he did graciously pay for her to have the doggy equivalent of the morning after pill.
I felt a bit bad about not letting nature take its course but I talked it through with her and she seemed to understand that it was for the best, what with her being a single mother and everything and that I couldn't be responsible for the offspring of her sluttish and irresponsible behaviour.
If it were today she'd probably be given an ASBO.
In fact, a dog has already been given an ASBO somewhere in Britain. Obviously they had to serve it on the owner but that was only because the court officials wouldn't accept a paw print instead of a signature.


At 10:52 PM, Blogger Vicus Scurra said...

Of course, had you wanted to get back at those people who criticised your Clouseau impression, you could have trained your dog to hide in the fridge, and spring out and attack whoever opened the door. That would have shown them.
What a shame I wasn't around to advise you at that time.

At 7:24 AM, Blogger Willie Lupin said...

Yes, it's a shame because you obviously know the Panther films better than I do.
Actually, my dog did have a clever trick of running at people at about 30mph, launching herself like a Cruise missile and knocking them over. She did it to my mother once and broke my mother's wrist and did it to my young niece and submerged her in several feet of mud. I used the time-honoured phrase of dog owners and said 'She's just being playful', which indeed she was.


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