My dog the pig


Yes, that’s the right, the adorable chocky lab… that I dearly love and adore… is a bloody pig! He’s a puppy so he eats like it’s his last meal. He’s a lab so he eats like it’s his last meal. He’s a dog… That’s all fine and dandy, but I know this, so know when to say ‘no’ to those adorable chocky brown eyes staring up at me giving me the, ‘if you’re eating, surely you should share, even though you’ve just given me my dinner’ look… I sometimes succumb, I sometimes give a stern ‘no’.

However, I left him at a friend’s place on the weekend – somewhat spontaneously, so didn’t have his ‘rationed’ food with me… I said, ‘just give him some meat and dry food tonight and a bit of dry food and a treat in the morning’. No biggie. I pick him up the next day and can’t help but go, ‘um, he’s the size of a house, what on earth happened overnight?’ I ask what he’d been fed and judging by his distended stomach – started anxiously looking around for their cat… ‘Not much, just some dry food last night and some tinned food this morning, ‘cos he seemed hungry,’ came the reply. Well, he always seems hungry, but I reckon he’s got into something else.

I drive home, pull up, get out and open the door to let him out and what do I see but the world’s BIGGEST pile of doggy vom on my back seat. Oh. My. I nearly gag. In fact, a few hours earlier I had, but that’s a whole ‘NOTHER story… ‘You little piglet!’ I shriek. Out he gets, while I endure the task of ‘scooping’. Thankfully, it’s pretty, er, fresh and somewhat ‘solid’ so it comes up – no pun intended – in one, very foul, swoop. I then get the ‘scented carpet cleaner’ and cloth out and go to town… Oh my.

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Not surprisingly when I throw the ball around, my doggit/piglet gives me the Homer Simpsonesque, ‘can’t run, I’ve eaten too much’ look… You’re a retriever, mate – that’s what you’re supposed to do. Retrieve!

The pair of us were a sight to behold indeed…