Dog’s Day

The credit crunch must be biting hard, as my friend is no longer buying expensive cuts of meat for her dog. Sharkey was used to venison, which confused me, as I don’t think dogs can naturally bring down a deer in the wild, can they? Sharkey is now on cheap can food and seems to be holding a dirty protest at this horrific treatment. He has taken to wetting the beds!
It may go back to the old days when pets are merely given left over dinners and not succulent moist pots of rare game to choff down at tea time.

There are people I know who get their pet’s regular dental treatment which makes me wonder what on earth my childhood dog Major did for breath freshener. Maybe eating the lino was perfect for his gums and teeth, though it made my mammy insane and did nothing for Major’s backside. I am not saying that domestic animals shouldn’t have veterinary treatment or be cared for, I am just wondering what happened to scabby dogs; you know the kind I mean? The big odd shaped mongrels that never get ribbons in their hair or specialised shampoo, wee tufty Glasgow dogs that don’t need a sat-nav to get round the city late at night, they know their way better than the cab drivers. I miss those dogs.

They could often be found raiding the local chip shop bins and when caught they just stared at you disdainfully as if to say “What are you looking at, get out of my alley”. Those kinds of dogs seemed to live for years, they came in all shapes and sizes and would balk at the idea that fancy women would take to carrying wee dogs in their handbag. That’s abuse to the dog world, those folks need biting or medicated.

People assumed the street wandering scabby dogs were strays, but they weren’t. They knew exactly where they were going, they knew the best places to eat, sleep and copulate. Masters of their own destiny they would avoid the crazy women who wiped their doorsteps with ammonia to stop them lifting a leg and the women who plastered them with buckets of cold water when they got ‘stuck’ on a bitch these angry wifies were given a wide berth. These street hairy gangster dogs knew which butcher would throw them scraps, they were up to speed on their knowledge of the kids that like a game of catch and I am convinced they pooled that information with like minded waggy tailed friends throughout the area.

We don’t get those animals anymore, if we see a dog out walking alone, without a collar or a companion, we assume it’s lost or needs arrested, just in case it has a warrant out on it for biting kids in the face.

I am sure there was a valid reason for clearing scabby dogs off the streets of Glasgow, but somehow I miss them and Glasgow is duller place for it.