posted
I've resisted for many years but, in a classic political feint, Mrs Dang has simply bred more voters into the family until I am outnumbered. Yes, we are getting a dog.
I don't like dogs. I just read Jonesy's post about his dad's new dog and his mum's resulting pissed-offedness, so I know there are others in the same situation. I don't want a dog, but it's five against one (actually, my two-year-old says, "No" to everything and should have counted as a vote for me when I said, "Do you want a dog?" and he said, "No". But Mrs Dang then said, "Do you want your vote to count for Dad?" and he said, "No".)
So, this weekend we've got to drive down to Solihull to collect this ridiculous Miniature Schnauzer thing. Don't Google image search for one. You might be sick.
I don't know how I'm going to avoid the thing. It'll come bouncing up to me when I get home and probably try to shag my leg, or try to bite it because it smells of cows and rabbits and all the other shit I pick up off the road while cycling home. Half of Cheshire usually, and Stockport as I pass through a bit of there as well.
Being a puppy it'll probably rip my books and cds up and do little puddles everywhere, or worse. I could live with this if I actually wanted a dog, but I don't. Hopefully someone will nick it to use in an illegal dog fight or something, but it'll probably win because the other dog will be laughing so much.
posted
Relax. The good news is you won't have it for long. Schnauzers are snappy, belligerent little bastards. It'll bite one of the kids and then you can kill it in self-defense. Conscience clean.
posted
Your local kebab shop will give you money for it. Recoup some of those Solihull trip petrol costs, chap.
Tell Mrs Dang that when you turned up, you pointed out the little fella's lazy eye to the breeder, who was consequently forced to shoot Fido in the head and feed him to his brethren.
quote:Originally posted by Black Mask: Relax. The good news is you won't have it for long. Schnauzers are snappy, belligerent little bastards. It'll bite one of the kids and then you can kill it in self-defense. Conscience clean.
Fucking hell. Have you been watching old episodes of my life again? Eerily accurate, bar the fact that my schnauzer, Sammy, wasn't killed for biting a child. He went off to live with some kindly family on a big estate where he could roam free for the rest of his days. Apparently.
quote:Originally posted by Bandy: He went off to live with some kindly family on a big estate where he could roam free for the rest of his days. Apparently.
Yeah. There were squirrels to chase and a kind old gentleman would stroke him and give him biscuits, too. Right?
quote:Originally posted by dang65: Hopefully someone will nick it to use in an illegal dog fight or something, but it'll probably win because the other dog will be laughing so much.
lol
This really is a no-win predicament. It's actually worse than you think: you will end up having to walk the wretched creature and everything in the house will stink of dog.
It's a difficult call but you have no option but to invoke Emergency Executive Dad Powers and forbid the dog purchase. There'll be wailing but they'll get over it.
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posted
Don’t you have loads of kids? One miniature dog isn’t much to go round - they will probably tear it to pieces fighting over who gets to play with it.
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Louche
Carved TMO on her clit just to make you feel bad
posted
Minus Points You’re the Dad. You’re The Alpha Male, the pack leader, the be all and end all. You will have to train the thing. You will have to feed it. You will have to clean up the garden when it shits and Mrs Dang worries about the children getting whatever hideous blindness causing toxoma comes from dog-poo. You will have to take the small, shivering and quivering ball of fur to the vets for it’s jabs and die of humiliation when it pisses itself on the table and the buxom vetinary assistant gives you death glares whilst she bleaches it up. When it eats a dead bird and gets tummy-fuck you will have to stay up with it all night, mopping watery vomit from the carpet. You will have to pull the sheep ticks from its arse with a pair of tweezers. You will have to upset the children by whacking it one when it eats the wallpaper from the walls. And when it gets old and decrepit, you will have to wipe it’s eyes and it’s arse and comfort a raft of howling Dangs outside the vets when you leave it for its final sleep and subsequent rendering into a small box of dust. You will have to spend the rest of your holidaying life in ‘Pet Friendly’ catalogue cottages with the ammonia stink of someone elses alsations piss in the bedroom. You will have to spend the rest of your holidaying life eating outside pubs even those with family rooms whilst it pours down in the way it only can in Dorset in August and the whole family stares at you, morose, from in the tent of their sodden cagoules. You will have to spend the rest of your life trying to deduce if a beach is ‘dog-friendly’ and carrying watertight plastic bags in your coat pocket in case of fouling. You will have to pick up something else’s shit in public.
Plus Points You have a cast iron, unassailable, utterly viable excuse for fucking off out of the house for an hour when requires. Train it to sit under a chair in the pub with a packet of salt and vinegar crisps for company and you’re in clover. The kids will love it. And you.
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posted
They're clever bastards, Miniature Schnauzers, manipulative too. A friend's dad had one called Bertie. Bertie did tricks like walking on two legs, balancing a ball on his nose, throwing withering glances at his gurning, shrieking human audience. He'd only do it when the home owners were around, though, anyone else asked for a trick and Bertie would look them straight in the eye and snort with derision. He'd read a bit of Gary Larson too, I think, because as soon as the house was empty, I'm pretty sure Bertie walked around on two legs or lounged in the arm chair, smoking cigars, drinking his owner's brandy, reading the financial times and playing the markets. It wasn't long before he'd only do tricks for the Dad, never for the mum. No doubt he'd got his hands on the deeds to the property, the mortgage papers, that kind of thing. Once he knew where the financial power rested, Bertie didn't dance for anyone but Daddy. This didn't go down too well with the wife, who soon fell out with Bertie. Big mistake. Three years after the dog arrived, the wife was gone. Bertie made a couple of calls, pulled a few strings and the couple got a divorce. She got fuck all. Bertie got the key to the door at 21.
Mark my words, Dang, if you cross this puppy you'll be out on your arse before you can say "his master's voice".
Dress it up as a Nazi, insist that this is the only way that it feels comfortable.
Or paralyse it's tongue, take pictures of it dressed up in costumes with it's stupid tongue hanging out of it's little, gimpy mouth, make calanders, sell for £5 a pop, laugh.
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quote:Originally posted by Black Mask: Know your enemy.
Despite years of forum reading at work experience and supreme yogic self-control, I just LOLed. I think I managed to turn it into a sneeze though.
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quote:Originally posted by Louche: Minus Points You're the Dad. You're The Alpha Male, the pack leader, the be all and end all. You will have to train the thing. You will have to feed it...
I will be doing nothing with this animal. If Mrs Dang so much as goes out for a drink with friends for the evening she will be expected to arrange boarding kennel facilities. We will be taking seperate holidays from now on. There are many other stipulated conditions, too complex to go into here, which she has agreed on. I have a solicitor drafting the legal document right now.
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scrawny
One Mojito, two Gin and Tonics, Three Bacardi Lime Sodas, and a couple of pints of Stella please.
posted
Schnauzers are so...post-colonial.
Bandy and I were having a picnic in the park and people-watching this summer when this little moustachioed thing trotted past like it owned the place, and pissed on this old woman's leg.
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quote:Originally posted by scrawny: Schnauzers are so...post-colonial.
Bandy and I were having a picnic in the park and people-watching this summer when this little moustachioed thing trotted past like it owned the place, and pissed on this old woman's leg.
posted
Dogs are top notch beasts. Not only can they perform any number of useful tasks such as guiding blind people and detecting bombs but they are constantly discovering new skills, like this.
My favourite breed are Red Setters, which as a rule are amazingly gormless but affectionate, friendly and bursting with Pedigree Chum energy. So there you go.
[ 10.11.2004, 07:30: Message edited by: My Name Is Joe ]
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quote:Originally posted by My Name Is Joe: constantly discovering new skills, like this.
"Dogs 'sniff out' bladder cancer"
So that's what they're doing. I understand now. Actually, I think I might have this skill myself if any ladies want to pop round for a quick check up.
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scrawny
One Mojito, two Gin and Tonics, Three Bacardi Lime Sodas, and a couple of pints of Stella please.
posted
Sad face on behalf of Bandy
When the opposing team consist of Emil Heskey, a goose, a miniature schnauser and everyone's favourite ex-paraplegic Christopher reeves, what chance does he have?
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