A dog blog - the world through the brown eyes of a pet girl dog.
Sunday, 19 December 2010
Night Encounters at Barshaw
Third week of the Freeze. The Snowmen have surpassed themselves this year. Even Santa is going to be delayed this year, according to retailers, unless you got your list away before last Friday.
In this cold weather I can't believe the generosity of some people, leaving free food for the dogs at various points around Barshaw Park. I thank all concerned. I found whole slices of bread near the play park area and more at the pond, some embedded in the ice. Then there was popcorn at the red brick shelter. Makes the walk in freezing temperatures all the more rewarding. Munch, munch, then munch a little more, until my master catches me in his torch glare. It's funny watching him slip and slide towards me in an attempt to put me off my snacking. He should know by now four legs are better than two for staying upright. He's never going to catch me.
I saw a notice beside the pond stating "Danger: Thin Ice". The swans obviously hadn't seen it as they continued to swim around the remaining ice-free area, oblivious to the inherent dangers surrounding them. I barked a warning but they ignored me, as usual. They're so full of themselves in their posh white gowns. They think they're the special ones, the beautiful people, above the rules. Well I hope the thin ice gets them. Then they won't be quite as aloof.
I wonder, if thin ice is dangerous, what about fat ice? It's probably not quite as nimble but being heavier could pack a better punch if it caught you. It certainly wouldn't crack under pressure. If Scotland was a colder clime, I'm sure we'd be very proud of our fat ice. "Feel that. Pure Scottish Fat Ice. You could dice that and stick it in your whiskey for breakfast. Beats your namby pamby English thin ice any day."
I nearly got into a fight with a man this week. He was cutting through the park in the dark, on his way home, and was walking at pace as it was so cold. I was running about to keep warm and thought I recognised him and ran over, hoping to get a dog treat. His hood was up so I jumped up to have a closer look but it turned out to be a case of mistaken identity. I was about to apologise when the blighter kicked me. Like I deserved it. I was shocked. Not the 'treat' I was expecting. I ran over to my master and remonstrated at the man's behaviour, hoping he'd take up my case for me but he seemed undecided. The man was quite beefy. So I ended up taking him on myself. I chased him up the path to the pond and bounced around him, barking threateningly. "You want a piece of me? Try that again and you'll see what you get!"
My master was livid. With me. He called me, then got angry and shouted for me to return immediately, while I persisted with my expression of outrage. The man knew what was good for him though and continued on using his feet to walk not kick. Just as well. If he offered a foot in my direction again I wouldn't have let him have it back. One up to me I think. No one messes with the figbane!
I rewarded myself with a lick at some yellow ice. Mmmmn... salty!