2. Daisy's version of a deep-night adventure
February 19th 2010 11:13
I heard something in the middle of the night. Big Brindle didn't hear it, but then he has trouble hearing anything when he's asleep because his stomach is making so much noise trying to digest the dinner he always refuses to chew.
I heard something, or perhaps I just sensed something, and I went outside to investigate.
I am not a scaredy-dog, but I admit that, as I stepped off the back porch onto the paved area, as I scanned the yard through a soft, new-moon light, as I sniffed a gentle southerly breeze and analysed the vibrations of the plants and insects, I felt uneasy.
Something was out there.
And it was not friendly.
Most books about greyhounds will tell you that, as part of the sighthound group of dogs, our senses are acute. Most books about greyhounds also tell you that our breed is about 3,000 years old.
Rubbish. A greyhound's senses are supremely acute, and that is because we are first cousins to salukis, a dog breed which has been around for about 8,000 years and was possibly the first dog breed distinct from wolves.
That's how I knew, as I stood in the dark yard with all senses on full alert, that there was a giant rat in the far corner of the conservatory.
I am not a scaredy-dog and a rat, giant or otherwise, poses a threat to home territory. I mean, they breed. Greyhounds and rats are not compatible. I ran towards the rat, and in doing so I barked as loudly and quickly as I could for Big Brindle to come and help.
I saw the rat, and he was a giant indeed. You must believe me in this. I stopped. I barked. I considered becoming a scaredy-dog.
Rarely have I seen such a rat. Like something out of a James Cameron movie. It had size of body and teeth. It had attitude. It was, in the new-moon light, a vision of evil intent.
I barked and advanced. It hissed and retreated. I barked, and barked, and barked. And it found itself trapped in the furthest corner of the conservatory.
I barked and it bared its teeth. This giant, ferocious rodent was clearly ready to challenge me.
That's when Scratchy arrived. He walked up to the rat and ate it. As usual, he didn't bother chewing.
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Comment by Queenie
Quirky Folk
Quirky Queenie
Another lovely post!
Do you live in Australia? If so, did you catch last week's RSPCA Animal Rescue? They did a story about two malnourished greyhounds. I was overcome by how beautiful they were and then it occured to me that I am no longer scared of greyhounds. They are such intelligent and gentle animals. I just had the bad luck of running into an aggressive one when I was little.
P.S. I have been trying to press the vote buttons on your blog but a message keeps coming up saying I have already voted on your posts which is untrue.
Comment by Chris Champion
LettersToNorm
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Another lovely comment
I do live in Australia (Melbourne) but I did not see the RSPCA program. If that's an ABC show, I shall see if I can cathc it on iView. A malnourished greyhound must look absolutely horrible - they looked malnourished at the best of times.
Others have mentioned occasional trouble voting on my blogs - an Orble wobble of some sort, I assume.