Biggles Flies Again or Hotrod's Pleasure ... Take Your Pick!
Today I
was privileged to meet a little brown and white Jack Russell terrier
called Biggles.
Biggles is a two year old cutie belonging to an elderly couple that I met whilst out and about in the town of Cowbridge.
He was named after James Bigglesworth (a pilot and adventurer, who was the title character and main hero of the Biggles series of youth-oriented adventure books written by W. E. Johns) because of the brown markings that covered his head and eyes and resembled old fashioned flying goggles and helmet.
As I watched Biggles interacting with two other dogs, I noticed that he was very, very keen to 'mount' them ... the dirty boy!
As I approached, the old man said "Watch it! He'll have your leg."
He was right too! I had barely reached them when Biggles made break for it and tried to hump my leg! After shrugging off his amorous advances, he turned his attention to a shopping bag, my client’s leg then his owner’s legs and finally, as the excitement grew too much for him, to thin air.
Passers by were in fits of laughter as poor old Biggles dry-humped himself to satisfaction.
His very embarrassed owners hastily explained that they were taking him to the vet as they were at a loss as to why he always did such a thing, especially as he had long ago lost his 'baubles'.
"My son thinks it's funny when he does it" said the old man. "He's doesn't call him Biggles anymore".
"What does he call him now then?" I asked.
"Hotrod!", came the reply.
Poor Hotrod had to be carried back to their car!
He was exhausted!
Bless him ... the randy little sod!
Biggles is a two year old cutie belonging to an elderly couple that I met whilst out and about in the town of Cowbridge.
He was named after James Bigglesworth (a pilot and adventurer, who was the title character and main hero of the Biggles series of youth-oriented adventure books written by W. E. Johns) because of the brown markings that covered his head and eyes and resembled old fashioned flying goggles and helmet.
As I watched Biggles interacting with two other dogs, I noticed that he was very, very keen to 'mount' them ... the dirty boy!
As I approached, the old man said "Watch it! He'll have your leg."
He was right too! I had barely reached them when Biggles made break for it and tried to hump my leg! After shrugging off his amorous advances, he turned his attention to a shopping bag, my client’s leg then his owner’s legs and finally, as the excitement grew too much for him, to thin air.
Passers by were in fits of laughter as poor old Biggles dry-humped himself to satisfaction.
His very embarrassed owners hastily explained that they were taking him to the vet as they were at a loss as to why he always did such a thing, especially as he had long ago lost his 'baubles'.
"My son thinks it's funny when he does it" said the old man. "He's doesn't call him Biggles anymore".
"What does he call him now then?" I asked.
"Hotrod!", came the reply.
Poor Hotrod had to be carried back to their car!
He was exhausted!
Bless him ... the randy little sod!
…
Walking the Dogs in the Rain
All
dogs need exercise and a dedicated and responsible owner will always
ensure that their pet gets it, every day, rain or shine.
I love my pups and I take them out every day, whatever Mother Nature throws at us.
Recently though, dog walking has been very much an 'under water' event, requiring waterproofs and wellingtons.
Of course I'm no stranger to adverse weather and my dogs ... well, to be blunt ... they couldn't give a hoot! They just love being out.
But yesterday ... oh dear, oh dear ... I made a amateurish mistake.
I had the right outfit ...
Waterproof hat ... check
Waterproof jacket ... check
Waterproof trousers ... check
Wellingtons ... check
... but I tucked my waterproof trousers into my wellingtons ... where rainwater collected in the folds at the point they entered my boots!!!
Half way around the park the folds, having collected a significant amount of water, moved allowing rainwater to gush into my boots.
I squelched my way around the park with cold, wet feet and, for some reason it never occurred to me to pull my trousers out of my boots, so the rain kept on running down my legs.
At the end of the walk I had enough water in my wellingtons to make at least two cups of tea.
Anyone fancy a cuppa?
I love my pups and I take them out every day, whatever Mother Nature throws at us.
Recently though, dog walking has been very much an 'under water' event, requiring waterproofs and wellingtons.
Of course I'm no stranger to adverse weather and my dogs ... well, to be blunt ... they couldn't give a hoot! They just love being out.
But yesterday ... oh dear, oh dear ... I made a amateurish mistake.
I had the right outfit ...
Waterproof hat ... check
Waterproof jacket ... check
Waterproof trousers ... check
Wellingtons ... check
... but I tucked my waterproof trousers into my wellingtons ... where rainwater collected in the folds at the point they entered my boots!!!
Half way around the park the folds, having collected a significant amount of water, moved allowing rainwater to gush into my boots.
I squelched my way around the park with cold, wet feet and, for some reason it never occurred to me to pull my trousers out of my boots, so the rain kept on running down my legs.
At the end of the walk I had enough water in my wellingtons to make at least two cups of tea.
Anyone fancy a cuppa?
…
Cold Weather and the Light Speed Snot
Tissues
are essential when you go out in the freezing cold to walk the dogs.
I mean, I have a moustache and, believe it or not, there is nothing worse than a 'tasche' full of snot.
Oh yes, you can sniff your way around the park, each sniff requiring more effort than the last and seemingly drawing less and less back into the snot sanctuary, otherwise known as your nose.
The trouble with sniffing ... I mean, the danger of sniffing ... well, it's micro-fractures to the inside of you skull, isn't it!
If you are a sniffer, then you will have experience of at least one, if not more, of those high velocity, quick release, double density snots.
You know the ones!
They are the ones that with every sniff move inside the nostril but only just enough to cause a modicum of irritation, not enough to release them from their anchorage.
Then, when you have given up all hope of ridding yourself of the unwelcome nasal guest, the 'quick release' is activated as you try to sniff your top lip free of dribble.
There is an audible 'THWUCK' as it releases, followed a fraction of a second later by a very quiet 'TOK' as the snot, travelling by this time at the very high speed, seems to make contact with the inside of the base of you skull. The micro-fracture!
OK! So the irritation is gone, but you are then faced with that awful feeling as you realise that the snot has nowhere to go but down.
There is a gulp, a grimace and, perhaps, then a few seconds of nausea, as you try to come to terms with the latest addition to your diet.
They say "Shit happens" but, my friends, so does the 'bullet' snot!
Any sniffer will tell you ... it really is worth checking your pockets for tissues before you go out in the cold!
I mean, I have a moustache and, believe it or not, there is nothing worse than a 'tasche' full of snot.
Oh yes, you can sniff your way around the park, each sniff requiring more effort than the last and seemingly drawing less and less back into the snot sanctuary, otherwise known as your nose.
The trouble with sniffing ... I mean, the danger of sniffing ... well, it's micro-fractures to the inside of you skull, isn't it!
If you are a sniffer, then you will have experience of at least one, if not more, of those high velocity, quick release, double density snots.
You know the ones!
They are the ones that with every sniff move inside the nostril but only just enough to cause a modicum of irritation, not enough to release them from their anchorage.
Then, when you have given up all hope of ridding yourself of the unwelcome nasal guest, the 'quick release' is activated as you try to sniff your top lip free of dribble.
There is an audible 'THWUCK' as it releases, followed a fraction of a second later by a very quiet 'TOK' as the snot, travelling by this time at the very high speed, seems to make contact with the inside of the base of you skull. The micro-fracture!
OK! So the irritation is gone, but you are then faced with that awful feeling as you realise that the snot has nowhere to go but down.
There is a gulp, a grimace and, perhaps, then a few seconds of nausea, as you try to come to terms with the latest addition to your diet.
They say "Shit happens" but, my friends, so does the 'bullet' snot!
Any sniffer will tell you ... it really is worth checking your pockets for tissues before you go out in the cold!
Mr. Biggles is one stud. He knows how to play music even though he no longer has an instrument.
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