We see a dog: ours or not, but hidden in us we usually want it by all possible means. Even to the extent of stealing the pooch. Now my dog is nobody’s pooch and that is proven by his name: LORD JUST GRRR/PERCY. A Yorkie with a brain the size of a soccer ball and many a cat has met his nemesis. Some time back he beat up two cats on the prowl and to their respective owner’s anguish.
Last weekend I went to Namibia and left Lord Just Percy at home. As I was reading the local Namibian news paper on the internet I noticed a movement at the bottom of the page. Before I could focus onto it it would dart away at a great rate of knots. Later it would return and hide behind the adverts.
It turned out to be lord Just Grrrr Percy who had rewired the Facebook link with the News paper and so followed me around. The newspaper format is similar to ours in South Africa with comments etc. I can understand his yen to just get-away from it all and read all the drivel created by those that drivel. Some years ago, while I was asleep I awoke to a heavy object on my legs and felt paralyzed.
This thing shifted up and parked itself onto my chest and I was forced to tip it off and in the process it snarled at me and bit my hand. So much gratitude from a pooch, sorry: Lord Just Grrr Percy. One dark night the neighbour’s cat broke into my house and laid into the meat being thawed for the next day. I was woken to a terrible din throughout the house and the falling of plates and glassware: Percy was on guard sorting out the cat and emitting a terrible snarl which would have awoken the dead. Eventually I left my comfy bed and went to the aide of the fighting animals.
Of course I was forced to take sides and that put Lord Percy in the majority seats. Collectively we knocked the hell out of the cats to which the credit went to Lord Percy. He likes me to retell the others of his victory over the felines on the block. Percy has some of the Bruce Lee traits: A cat, god I am moeg of the expression “The Cat” used my yard for a shortcut home and in the process pushed the wrong canine button and had Lord Grrr on the attack.
My Nissan 1400 bakkie was parked close to the neighbours wall and in an instant the Fool “cat” sailed onto the roof of the canopy and glared down to the madly raging dog below. Some things go beyond normal understanding because within minutes just lord Grrr was on the bonnet, then into the cab-roof then joined company with the kitty. Man, that was one helova fight as either side had to keep clear of the sides and the long drop. Eventually the cat negotiated a truce and both went on their way. Lord Just Grrr resides in Cape Town and soon I will be enjoying cat tails while the lord chews on his horse steaks.
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