Fix the bitch
24th Mar 2005
My neighbours dog is on heat. When a bitch is on heat she bleeds and the bloody scent attracts scruffy mongrels. The result: whining and spraying too close for comfort. Not good for my peace (sic) of mind. I asked my neighbour why his bitch hasn't been spayed and he avoids answering by sharing his fond memories of when his mother was alive and she had three dogs: every horny mutt within three miles used to queue up with the sole aim of relieving themselves; quite a chaotic scene I'm told. While the neighbour explains this I think to myself 'that's another smelly tidbit the old woman (and previous occupier of our house) never divulged when we asked her if she had had any trouble with the neighbours'. In other words we should think ourselves lucky there's only one bitch and (currently) only one horny mutt banging at the door.
The ruttish rogue pissing all over the place for the last couple of days didn't seem to understand when I gesticulated violently at it to keep the fuck out of my garden, so I put my keen running skills to good use and chased it for about half a mile down our street and along the next road. Ha ha ha... the musty-coloured mutt kept looking over it's shoulder to see if I was still giving chase. I persevered in the hope that the stress would be enough to disuade it from darkening my door again but little did I realise at the time, this was a bad penny we were dealing with.
"L" suggested we phone the council and get them to send out their dog-catcher before anymore hairy, shaky-legged creatures startedappearing. I had a better idea. I suggested we entice the horny hound into the boot of our car and then drive out of the city and dump it somewhere but the downsides weighed too heavy:
- a possible police charge for animal cruelty
- a prolonged smell of stressed-out-dog piss in the boot (which would need cleaning)
- too difficult to catch the sprightly thing
Council it was. The Environmental Health Department: pest control section more specifically. I telephoned and explained my situation:
"Is the dog vicious, biting, barking or causing a serious public disorder?", she asked me.
"No, none of that. It keeps peeing all over my car wheels and is looking to copulate with my next door neighbours dog." Realising that sounded pathetic I surmised a little and suggested that the dog could easily turn nasty and attack a young child.
"Ok, we'll get the warden out tomorrow."
When I returned from work the following day to find a dog-less neighbourhood I presumed the council had picked up the little fella.
Message on the answer machine:
"Mr Millen, the warden was out today and couldn't see any strays."
'The little fucka is still on the loose', I thought. As I went to pick up the phone to chase the dog-catchers I glanced out my kitchen window and discovered the little shit had cleverly hidden himself when the big net appeared earlier. As it ran off for dear life, for a few seconds I felt numbly satisfied that just one glimpse of my ugly mug was enough to make the wee dog scarper, but then I remembered IT WAS STILL HERE CAUSING ME A HEADACHE!
Another telephone conversation and the warden was due to reappear the next day.
Now, you're going to think I'm making this next bit up... I arrived home from work the next night to find my neighbour out in his garden. I waved and said hello.
"Any sight of the wee dog?" I asked.
"Aye, it's in the back playing with Sheba", he grinned and gesticulated by pointing his thumb over his shoulder.
"You're bloody kidding me?", I beamed with exasperation.
I rushed up to the back of my garden and stared over the hedge and I couldn't belive my eyes! The two of them were at it! My plans for a peaceful existence vanished in a flash of 101 yapping, little crappers running riot round my garden.
Too late to fix the bitch now.
Perhaps there should be some legislation introduced to enforce male dogs to wear contraception.