Column

Tales From The Locker Room

My German Shepherd Doggie (G.S.D.) Ruffo is particularly peeved and pained. News channels, newspapers, radiostations, the internet sites, all abound with New Year this and New Year that.....but none have bothered to cater to him.

None have even considered asking him what he would like this New Year. And no its not about resolutions, no dog worth his canine teeth beleives in resolutions. In fact not since Richard the Lionheart (coeur de Lyon’s) very own pooch ‘Poopee’ the pug has any doggies bothered to paw down a resolution.

Poopee was to bunk the crusades as he couldn’t bear the long journeys, and in any case felt the whole thing was highly overrated, caused by all the hype and bluster pushed out by the yellow tabloids and the Saxon Press of the time.

Ruffo in fact insisted on a list of demands which he felt must be acceded to if he was to continue his stay with us. If not he would be looking eleswhere for job and housing opportunities.

First up, he demanded more food. All of 2006 he put only 2.5kilos when his aim was a full 5 kilos. This disappointing form he blamed on the lack of a good nutritional diet. Without taking her name, he subtly pointed out the main culprit in this situation by barking at a photograph of my heavily pregnant wife Ayesha.

Apparently Ayesha had on occassion cleaned out the fridge, inclusive of doggie and non doggie foods. Both of which Ruffo liked to experiment with. In short Ruffo’s demand was do not get the wife pregnant again or there will be doggie hell to pay.

I of course assured him that since the wife had disallowed any physical contact for a period of 14 years, unless science came up with something spectacular, his food would be safe in 2007.

Ruffo went on “I must be allowed to kill, if heads of states can be blantantly murdered on public television (the point that the head of state was a villan cuts no ice with him, he is of the firm beleif that you have to be a villan first, in order to aspire to become a head of state), then one kill a year is not too much to ask for”.

Then the list got worse. “my own car, a makeover, different female companions on weekends, a holiday in Prague, Kung fu for doggies.........

As I left him muttering and sputtering like a senile motor engine, the wife caught me. She quickly reminded me that today was our anniversary and she’d made out a list she wanted me to execute.....

Somehow I can’t help wondering if Saddam was the lucky one, as I saw my mother approach me with a large piece of paper in her hand gesticulating wildly.