Monday, May 11, 2009

Neighbourhood bully wannabe

Chassard was a big dog with big ambitions. His number one goal in life? To be the top dog in the neighbourhood.

He started off small, picking fights with a couple of collies who took walks past the house and terrorising the postman. The poor man finally took to parking his scooter at the start of the avenue and delivering the mail on foot so as to minimise the noise level. It must have worked pretty well cos he started doing it throughout the neighbourhood (aka dog central).

"It's the postman, I tell you! I need to go out and bark!"



One fine day, with his ego boosted from past successes, he decided it was time to take on the neighbourhood stray.

How he slipped out I have no idea. All I know is that I was on the way back from a nice relaxing stroll, when I saw a familiar black dog with ears down and tail between his legs racing straight for me. Giving chase was the leaner, meaner, street-wise stray.

And do you know what that gung-ho, geh kiang dog did? He ducked behind me and hid!

I jumped away, leaving him very exposed and equally confused. For one moment he had the safety of a pair of thighs, and the next he was in full view again.

As unglamourous as his strategy was, it worked. Confronted with a new albeit unwilling entrant into the foray, the stray stopped, took a couple of seconds to size me up and then decided I wasn't juicy enough to sink his teeth into.

Once he left, Chassard gave me a mopey look and spent the rest of the night feeling sorry for himself.

Ever since then, he wouldn't go near the stray. He figured dedicating his life to annoying the postman was a lot less risky.

I agree.

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