The Master and his Human
On the news this morning I was saddened to hear that the Pitbull Society of South Africa seems to have moved it’s livestock to one of the suburbs of Cape Town. Now, most animal lovers will be heartened to hear that the Pitbull is indeed not just any animal – it can be a lovely domestic pet, a guard dog and a killer in the hands of the wrong people. Of course in most cases these people have been more cross bred than the animal itself but let us not be forlorn about it. In the hands of the wrong people they are known to keep the human population down, a champion can make thousands for the owner and of course, keep the lawyers and doctors in good business.
No, I am not a fan of the Pitbull. Like a gun they are deadly when cocked and loaded. On a Saturday afternoon I dread to think how these animals are treated when half the populace are also loaded. Would you go to your neighbour with a bowl full of fruit knowing that his trusty guard dog, an unleashed and ferocious Pitbull is also waiting for a tasty snack. Compare a friendly Boxer to a nasty Pitbull. Compare a Boxer to a Racing Pig (Staffie Bull). I make these comparisons because I love Boxers – they are brilliant with children and my own experience is that of a very affectionate animal. Don’t tramp on his testicles though. They too can turn into a canine crocodile in a flash – a flash of teeth and fury. But then again I wouldn’t like to be tramped on this part of my anatomy either although my wife has tried this on numerous occasions after my night out with the boys. But I digress, an animal is only as cool as it’s master. It has oft been said that the size of the dog is indirectly proportional to the size of the owner’s sexual organ. We have no proof of this but I have seen some dodgy looking dogs been walked by even dodgier looking guys.
Last Saturday I went for a brisk cycle around the suburb I reside in and was fascinated by the amount of people that kept dogs. Every single one of them. The question I posed to myself was how many of them take their prized pet for a daily run or exercise. Sadly, the answer is none. It then dawned on me that maybe this is where the money tree is, a pet’s gym. We have beauty parlours, funeral homes but no gym. I was thinking of a treadmill powered by your Great Dane. This way both of you can get exercise. Because the Great Dane is doing most of the work you can even jog behind sucking on a beer. How about your great dane powering the tread mill while the whole family run behind. I’m thinking about having this patented with the American Heart Foundation.
Have you ever noticed that the worst behaved dogs are always the tiniest. A Yorkie standing 4″high bit me once. A St Bernard nearly licked me to death. Notice the similarity with us humans. The small man syndrome. SMS. If you ever need a lawyer go for the smallest one – the one suffering from Duck’s Disease (arse too close to the ground). But then again the invisible ones are the worst. Ever noticed how the dog that barks the loudest is the one you never see. Or hear during the day.
I believe that scientists are now crossing a chihuahua with a vuvuzela – Chivuzela.
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