“My Dog Never…”

Ok, so as always, it’s been a while. But to be fair to me, I have been bloody busy with work (and I mean *really* busy). So much so, it’s literally taken up 90% of my existence for the last few months.

As a result, the dogs have been my absolute saviour – ensuring I still get away from the desk twice a day and insisting I look up from my screen at least every few hours for a 5 minute cuddle as they rest their chins on my lap.

I’ve even managed to fit in a handful of training sessions with them on the odd evening and it’s been great to see they haven’t entirely forgotten what they’re supposed to do, having been left to act like “normal” dogs for a few months after a busy shoot season.

Which brings me onto the reason for this post and the moment that prompted it…anyone else noticed that as soon as you say “my dog never [insert horrific activity here]” they seem to take it as a call to action and before you know it, right in front of your eyes off they go, never’ing like they’ve never fucking never’ed before??

Take Monty, for example – the golden boy, the most well mannered dog you will EVER meet. I cannot tell you how many times a day I get told how amazing, how wonderful, how much of a perfect specimen of a Labrador, he is. And I take great delight in wholeheartedly agreeing with every person that informs me of this.

Someone in the office the other week even had the audacity to ask how I would discipline him. Oh how I laughed. “Discipline him?!” I replied incredulously, “Monty never needs disciplining, he’s the best behaved dog on the planet. He’d never do anything wrong!”

You can see where this is going right? Tell me you’ve caught the gist of this? But I can promise you now, whatever it is your are imagining that he does, this is a WORLD away from what you could possibly ever contemplate, and a million times worse.

Case in point for you:

The boys and I were having a lovely time exploring a new beach the other Saturday afternoon and smuggy smug face here was walking along, revelling in the fact that my boys (my darling boys!) are just so well behaved compared to all the other ill-mannered arsehole dogs tearing the place apart. My dogs would never misbehave like that!

As we’re walking back up towards the promenade I notice that Monty wasn’t with me, but that’s ok, he’s *such* a good boy, I knew he’d be following along any minute, and he was, to be entirely fair to him. But as he got closer he seemed to be particularly pleased with himself, with his slow tail wag, it’s at that point I notice something hanging from his mouth…

As I spot what appears to be a fish dangling between his teeth, my first thought was “ohhhh you are SHITTING me!!” Followed by “how the hell am I going to stop him from eating that?!” But being the good boy that he is, he’s not trying to eat it, ohh no, no, no! He’s just bringing it to me.

So I pull my phone out to video the mildly amusing situation and as I crouch down, that’s when I realise…my dog has brought me a shark’s head.

It was probably only a dog fish, but still, let’s take a moment here – A F’ING SHARK’S HEAD!! An old, crusty, severed head of a shark. And where the bloody hell was the rest of the sh*tting thing?!?

I mean, I know this dog has a good nose, but a sodding shark’s head though?? This just takes it to a whole new f*cking level. What dog even find shark’s head on a beach, let alone brings it to you?!? A dickhead one, that’s what kind. Jesus Monty. What the f*ck am I even supposed to do with that?!?

Ohhh but it doesn’t end there, it gets so much better because, remember, Monty is SO well trained that he couldn’t possibly spit out this lovely present that he has retrieved for me.

Whilst I’m emphatically repeating the “dead” command to no avail and trying not to vomit in my own mouth at the same time, the moment of realisation hits me that I am going to have to hold the f*cking thing in order for him to let go (as per his training) 🤢🤢🤢

I know you won’t believe me, and much like when I broke the broom handle on the arse of my 250kg pig after she escaped onto the neighbouring farm (refer to my first ever blog post if you have no idea what I’m talking about), I thought to myself at that very moment “you couldn’t write this shit”.

And so, for your hilarity and my trauma recovery process, please see the ensuing video as evidence of how just much of a dickhead my dog can be, and equally how amusing he thought the entire experience was.

Until next time…(although, quite frankly, I sincerely f*cking hope not to repeat this horrific experience anytime soon)

@citygirlcountrylife_

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