Nov 01 2006
Tá athas an domhan orm an chorn seo a glachadh*
So I was telling Kelly about[1] my lying dog[2] and I thought I might as well share his fibs.
He gets fed twice a day, morning and evening, and he is a creature of habit. If it is a minute past five he’ll let you know that he should’ve been fed by now. Unless of course it is raining outside, or a little windy, in which case you really should bring his bowl inside. Bloody soft lump of a mutt that he is.
And it doesn’t help that we are all spoiling him lately. On account of his injured back. We’ve been being nice to him and letting him come into the kitchen[3] and letting him have little treats[4] so he is utterly convinced that he can do no wrong at the moment.
Including walking in front of de brudders when they were experimenting with a shot-putt, no wonder the mutt has a bad back[5]
Hmm, I was supposed to be revealing his fibbing ways, and his increasing response of “I’m so terribly sorry, but I simply didn’t hear you when you screamed my name. Now where’s my Markie?” But look, I’ll cunningly disguise my lack of details by showing you Sean Óg:
* Irish may be incorrect. Vidjo borrowed from slipperyorangeballco
- in one of the comment sections, I can’t do all the work for you, you’ll have to find it yourself ↩
- don’t believe a word a dog tells you, honestly, they lie ↩
- he is supposed to be confined to the front room and the utility room but chance’d be a fine thing ↩
- just not the ones we are keeping for the stray cat ↩
- - don’t worry, it landed a whole foot away from him and he was quite safe. honest ↩
