I’m sure you’ve heard of the film ‘Snakes On A Plane.’ How about ‘Snail On A Hive Controller’?
Really, it ought to be a bee, what with it being a Hive. I expect the relevant trade union will knocking on my door forthwith, demanding I remove the offending snail and pay all the bees compensation for their hurt feelings and loss of earnings. Good luck with THAT, trade union, #channellingMargaretThatcher.
Or how about ‘Cormorant On A Pole’?
I saw this yesterday when Nell and I were out walking. It was perched on a pole by one of the canal bridges and was still there on our return, surveying its domain. I like to think that is what it was doing but it could have been stuck there, either by fear or chewing gum. I’ve never seen a cormorant on the canals before. Herons, ducks, geese, swans, moorhens, even a kingfisher, but never a cormorant. Lovely!
What was NOT so lovely, and here I pose a question, is this: What is it in the brain of a dog that says it is an idea both wonderful and exciting to roll in the eviscerated and putrefying remains of a poor, dead hedgehog? Do not worry - there will be NO photograph to illustrate this revolting conundrum.
Nell was galloping ahead of me on the tow path and then she suddenly stopped and seemed VERY interested in something lying in the undergrowth. I quickened my pace and quickened it even more when she started to adopt the ‘I’m about to roll in something quite delicious’ pose. For those unaware, this involves dropping one front leg down and slightly to one side, and tilting the head and shoulder in order to achieve maximum coverage of whatever vomit-inducing, sticky mess is currently on offer.
‘Do NOT even THINK about it!’ I projected in my best no nonsense teacher voice. Nell looked up and this bought me enough time to reach her side, smell the smell, see the sight and pull her away.
‘No, no, NO!’ said I.
‘Awwwww…why not?’ said Nell, looking wistfully at the juicy remains.
‘Seriously?’ said I, burying my nose in my jumper which was beautifully scented with ‘Sweet Pea and Bluebell’ by Yardley. ‘You actually need me to explain why not? Do you really want ANOTHER bath when you had one only yesterday??’
The previous day’s bath had been instigated by Nell having a bit of an upset tummy the night before (fermenting, rotting plums anyone?) resulting in what I call ‘a bit of a pooey bottom,’ which required a bath in some lovely scented dog shampoo in order to remove the not so lovely scented crustiness of real dog poo from her rear end.
What confuses me most is that dogs are supposed to have a really sensitive sense of smell, way more so than us humans. Yeah, right - I don’t think so. It just goes to prove that dogs are really disgusting animals and THAT, dear Reader(s), is why I am, and always shall be, a devoted cat lady.
N.B Apologies if you were eating whilst reading this. It made me feel nauseous writing it. And I DID include a trigger warning, because I believe that is what writers are meant to do these days. Something to do with a snowflake revolution? Can’t say I understand it myself…sigh…
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KJ