Dogs. What are they for? What do they want from us? Why the smell? Last night I got up close and personal with a bull terrier called Moo, and I have to say, I quite enjoyed it. Ever since our Blackie licked Nivea Cream off my knee then licked his bits (I think it was that way around), I’ve had a soft spot for dogs. And when I say ‘dogs’, I mean proper dogs – the ones with deep voices, a musty whiff, and the flexibility of Olga Korbut, enabling them to chew their genitals with ease. Oh those heady summer nights of 1976 when the family visited Dorset in a Sprite caravan and Blackie had an irritated ball sack. How our caravan rocked to the rhythm of his chomping as the poor mutt struggled to relieve himself of his terrible affliction. Thinking about it, I reckon he might have had dog VD; well he did put it about a bit. Dogs eh!
Recent Posts
- Soaking socks smell!
- Two things I never did before Covid (and may well never do again)
- My Big Brown Nose – and other Lockdown Learnings
- More lockdown learnings
- Lockdown Learnings x 4
- Going Nuts for Brazil – an Odyssey of Six Parts
- There's Something Nasty in the Woodshed
- Going Nuts for Brazil – an Odyssey of Five Parts
- Going Nuts for Brazil – an Odyssey of Five Parts
- Going Nuts for Brazil – an Odyssey of Five Parts