Don't Mention the War

Today like most other Saturdays I went to Babysis' place to have coffee. I've actually been turning up there once a day to feed skinny min who has lost a lot of condition despite being on a special diet, over the winter and is now on a Horse Rescue diet to restore his former glory.

My skinny boy . . pretty in purple and on a special geriatric diet

He's 28 years old so hard to keep condition on an old fella is tricky but I fancy he's improving. As for paddock mate Chippy .

Chippy thriving fine on Laurie's leftovers

. . no problem, he steals Laurie's breakfast lunch and dinner and lately the old boy hasn't been arsed to shoo him away so they're coming home soon as I can demolish a horse unfriendly rabbit warren in the back paddock and I will also be able to separate them since my neighbour has an adjoining paddock where they'll be able to 'see' each other and hunker down at night on each side of the fence but it means Chippy won't steal Laurie's dinner and maybe, just maybe lose weight in the process before he founders. (Erm that green stuff they're eating is $25 a bale! They cost more to feed than Adam and Amy combined!)

So . . Babysis is babysitting a friend's German short haired pointer while they're gallivanting up the north coast in a Winnebago.

She's a sweet dog. Very pretty, friendly. Dumb. I mean totally dense. Doesn't know her name, doesn't sit, doesn't drop. Isn't happy about being outdoorsy although generally get's on with Babysis' two Labradors and is cranky at dinner time. Damn good mouser but also fancies Laurie's geriatric dinner so has been barred from the feed shed. She fights over dinner and is particularly good at targetting ears. Poppy the matriarchal Labrador bears the wounds of a dinner time skirmish. Shelby on the other hand is a true blonde and quite frankly is Marilyn Monroe, and bimboish to the n'th.

"Now Shelbs whatch how Renaldo would do it . .
hehe might be a handball rule, but theres no rule about mouths."

The first time I took Lily up with the Gabster on site, was three weeks ago, she growled at Gabby before she even got out of the car. Now we're talking Bert level couch potato here. A dog who's been walked on and off the leash without so much as a grizzle or a whimper. The only growling noises generated by upturned back rubbing on the lawn . .the 'omg that feels awesome back scratching kind of growl' I have NEVER in six years heard her growl in anger. The usual encounters involve but sniffing, weeing on top of where you wee'd and that's about it.

No aggression, zero. Bear in mind these are four bitches, Lily (mine) Shelby and Poppy (Babysis'; dogs) and Gabby, the n00b. So to hear my dog in the back seat palpably growling at a dog she's never met was a tad odd. The first and second encounters were trouble free with Lily giving the pointer a few pointers - sniff my butt and I'll kill you - seemed to work. But not today.Butter will not melt in my dumb as dogshit mouth! I point, I shoot . .
but I'm too stupid to do anything else . .Gabby? Who's Gabby?

While we were sitting beneath the newly sprouting pecan tree in lovely spring sunshine drinking Mr Lavazza's finest, all of a sudden it was on. A gnashing of teeth, growling, grizzling and the pointer had Lily in a clinch. I don't know what she said but Gabby took offense to which only a swift kick and a bucket of cold water quickly procured by Babysis saw an end to the shenanigans. A quick check of ears - which bleed profusely if nipped and often are - proved that the battle was even and nobody physically damaged.

Poor Lily . now call me a sap and I'm pretty sure she called Gabby a slag bag whore interloper . . but she's never been in a fight in her life! She survived without incident (not so Poppy who's ear bleeding of last week has left a nice manky mark).

Wouldn't I give a million to know why the most spoiled Labrador in the world took such umbrage at a German short haired pointer . . ah . . she forgot the absolute . . as John Cleese would say "Whatever you do, don't mention the war . . ."

Wot youz talking about mum. . .I can be right vishus wid a schtick!

Now is that the face of a warrior? I ask you? (Bet she told Gabby her bum looked big . .)