“I don’t think twice about picking up my dog’s poop, but if another dog’s poop is next to it, I think, ‘Eww, dog poop!”
― Jonah Goldberg
One afternoon last week, we had an unexpected visitor; Matilda an 8 month old Basset Hound casually waltzed into our life for a couple of hours.
Naughty little sausage managed to get out of her property and wander around the village of Sedgefield with her partner in crime, Harry, a golden labrador cross. Harry was pretty streetwise and quickly left the disorientated Matilda in his wake, wandering around looking frightened and lost.
Fearing that she would get knocked over by a passing car or be stolen by some unsavory character with evil intentions, I called her to me. I could see she wanted to come but was very nervous, that is, until Mr T, the “lost dog magnet” came on the scene. He called her and delighted by his attention, she came trotting right through our garden gate on her stubby little legs, ears flapping and tail wagging. She didn’t have a name tag on her collar, so we started calling around our neighbours to see if anyone knew who she belonged to, in the meantime we introduced her to our own two hooligans, who all this time had been locked inside the house, barking up a storm and scaring the poor cat witless.
Oh, oh! Ruby wasn’t too keen to make friends and a fair amount of hackle rising and bum sniffing ensued before she finally softened to the visitor.
It began to get late and with no sign of Matilda’s owners we went ahead and fed her along with our dogs and were immediately rewarded with an enormous pooh on the living room floor. Oh dear…
Mr T, muttering under his breath (honestly he is such a drama queen, it wasn’t as though HE had to clean up the pooh) decided to drive around the neighborhood to, as he put it “look for someone looking for a lost dog”. Ten minutes after he left, Matilda’s owner drove slowly by Custard Cottage, stopped the car, got out and asked me if I had seen a Basset Hound, needless to say, Matilda was delighted to see her human and tell him of her BIG adventure.
And Mr T? Well I was unable to give him the good news immediately, as he forgot (as usual) to take his mobile phone with him and I was inside and enjoying an ice-cold glass of Chenin Blanc by the time he finally got home.
Just another day at Custard Cottage.