mailto: blog -at- heyrick -dot- eu
A Mutt Called Woof
So we come back from a vide grenier to find a dog cowering in the back shed. A young (mom estimates five month old) Alsatian. Young, but pretty big all the same. Normally I would be fairly afraid of this,given that one tried to go for me when I was a lot younger, but I was just annoyed. There's a local farmer or hunter or somesuch that lets his dogs off leash and they keep turning up here to mess with the cats. So while mom went off to call the gendarmes, I outlined in detail the process between dog and burger.
The dog squad people were ever so helpful, they said it'd be about an hour and a half and we had to keep the dog with us. Say what? There's a small difference between dog people and a bunch of clueless gaijin. Still, mom rose to the occasion and fed it a slightly out of date piece of sirloin steak. After that, the dog (which mom decided to call "Woof" in an ironic nature since the dog did not bark, not even once) had no complaints.
After making a harness with some baling twine, Mom Laid Down The Law.
That was all it took.
We walked Woof up the lane and back, to keep him (and us!) occupied. All the way, obedient.
Shortly afterwards, a young woman from the kennel service arrived.
She asked us the usual formalities and said the kennel service would keep him for a week to see if they can reunite him with his owner, and if not, he will be passed on to the Spa (wiki-link is in French), similar to the RSPCA (UK) / SPCA (US). She assured us that Woof would not be "put down".
You can't help but feel as the bars closed, then the door, that he knew exactly how this was going to play out.
I just hope he was either reunited with his owner who did actually miss him, or he was adopted by a family who will treat him better than some around here.
However, he did a good job of teaching me that not all dogs larger than a Chihuahua are out to get me. In fact, I was a little upset as he left, for if we were in a position to have a dog around (and there are numerous reasons why it isn't feasible), I don't think we could have found a dog more likely to be loyal and trustworthy than... Woof.
Please note that while I check this page every so often, I am not able to control what users write; therefore I disclaim all liability for unpleasant and/or infringing and/or defamatory material. Undesired content will be removed as soon as it is noticed. By leaving a comment, you agree not to post material that is illegal or in bad taste, and you should be aware that the time and your IP address are both recorded, should it be necessary to find out who you are. Oh, and don't bother trying to inline HTML. I'm not that stupid! ☺ ADDING COMMENTS DOES NOT WORK IF READING TRANSLATED VERSIONS.
You can now follow comment additions with the comment RSS feed. This is distinct from the b.log RSS feed, so you can subscribe to one or both as you wish.
|joe, 9th August 2012, 09:29|
DOG IS LOVE.
By Phillip Adams
I cannot reprint the whole article here, all the copy right and so on, so is abstract only.
"Iíve had dozens, mostly mongrels, all friends. As reliable as trees, but with a sense of humour.
Some were gifts, others refugees who just turned up at the farm. A few would die from snakebite, one was killed by a kanga, but mostly they had good lives and died of old age. All intelligent, loyal and sweet of nature. Devoid of vanity. They taught me a lot - particularly how to live in the moment. A few taught me to chase sticks but I'm still trying to learn to wag my tail. Itís not for nothing that dog is god backwards.
Perhaps He put them on Earth to keep an eye on us, to appeal to the better angels of our being. Perhaps they are angels, wingless and furry ones. With fleas."
If you need more let me know.
|Rick, 21st December 2012, 13:04|
Prior to this event, the farmer across the field came looking for a dog, a light coloured alsation about five months old. Several days later we find a dog that fits that description. We called farmer-bloke prior to phoning the gendarmes and as it was a Sunday, he said "I'm with my family, don't bother me".
Turns out, it WAS his dog, and he could have had it right back if he pulled his head out of his ..... long enough to make the connection between "lost dog == found dog".
It went to the kennel service, they probably read his chip and got in touch with farmer...who collected it and had to cough up Ä300.
Bittersweet ending: We know where the dog went, but was this in the best interests of the dog?
(Felicity? Marte? Find out!)
List all b.log entries
Return to the site index
PS: Don't try to be clever.
It's a simple substring match.
Last read at 03:55 on 2023/12/01.
© 2012 Rick Murray
This web page is licenced for your personal, private, non-commercial use only. No automated processing by advertising systems is permitted.
RIPA notice: No consent is given for interception of page transmission.