This story was told to me in two parts about six months apart by The Artist, relaying the experience of a work colleague whom we will call Wazza, and his pets.
Part one I introduce you to Wazza’s cat. The cat, being a cat, is a transient creature who took to disappearing and reappearing at intermittent intervals. Clearly, a cat being a cat, there was no cause for concern. (I see you cat owners shaking your heads horrified….)
Until the cat got sick and Wazza got a call from a vet looking for its registered owner as opposed to the the people that the cat had taken to living with. Microchips – trackers of the 21st century. There was no further debate. The cat was handed over to its rightful people. Wazza hasn’t seen it since. When you’re beat, you’re beat.
Moving along, I bring you part 2.
It’s natural when one pet disses you
so completely, slightly, to change species and hope for a better outcome perhaps with some canines?
Now the proud owner of some hounds, Wazza, being a responsible pet owner, gets a dog walker to take the lads on an outing each Tuesday. Why a person can’t walk their own dog I don’t know (but not currently being a dog owner myself perhaps I should reserve this judgement).
On a recent Tuesday morning, Wazza received a call from a stranger who had found both dogs trying to cross a major road in North Bondi. They had successfully managed to stay together, not get killed and lose the dogwalker. Working back the timeline it seemed that the dogs had been free for almost an hour. The dogwalker had not made contact to confess he had lost his charges. Were the dogs perhaps searching for something? Like a new owner?
I don’t want to say anything but I’m seeing a pattern here. Just saying.
Wazza promptly left work to spend the afternoon with his dogs. Bonding.
Perhaps he will take them “walkies” from now on? If I was Cesar Millan I would completely see this as a cry for help. Again, just saying.
The story was about to end here when The Artist came home with part three yesterday (good thing I didn’t hit publish on Tuesday).
On Tuesday evening there was a knock on Wazza’s door. A strange lady barged in, took a look around and told him the Council were going to take action against his barking dogs. Apparently whilst home alone during the daytime (when not orchestrating a jailbreak from the dog walker on Tuesdays) they bark. Like non-stop. The lady’s name remains a mystery as The Artist was unwilling to extract this information from Wazza (for the purpose of this blog). And she is……….wait for it………. a dog whisperer. Like Cesar!!!!! She then proceeded to talk sternly to the dogs (who had come to see what the commotion was about). Wazza relayed that they metaphorically rolled over and died almost. And stopped barking. The Whisperer has been employed to work with the lads on their problem. I know not what to say other than that we are living in a world gone mad.
And if you’re old school – you will remember the Queen of Walkies – Barbara Woodhouse – visual for your viewing pleasure. You’re welcome.