We have had Scruffalo staying with us all this week while the Kerry Sister and Brendan were in London. I'm afraid to say that he bullied our entire houseful of dogs and cats except Fred.
We had to tell Scruff the story that He Who Cannot Be Spoken Of told us.
When He Who Cannot Be Named was a young lad the family had a German Shepherd dog. This dog was very mild and quiet and all the children of the family could pull his ears and tail and ride on his back and the dog never as much as growled at them. The people who lived across the field had a wee yappy Jack Russell who would come over regularly and torture the big dog. The little dog would bark and circle, snap and nip at the German Shepherd. The big dog never retaliated.
Then one evening, for no apparent reason, the big dog crossed the field and tore the throat right out of the Jack Russell.
Scruff paid this story no mind and continued intimidating big, silly Bonnie to no ill effect.
We returned the boul’ Scuff tonight and Bonnie came for the run. Both dogs ran into Matty’s before me and when I got in she was sitting there with a face like a fur hatchet and acting like Bonnie was going to take a lump out of her. Poor old dog had to go sit in the car.
Later the bro says,
You’d think you’d brought a grizzly bear in with you.
And I said,
Yes. With big slavering teeth.
And a half masticated lamb in its jaws.
And the blood running out of its mouth.
And divil’s horns and a tail.
Aye. We’d better make sure Matty never hears that tale about He Who Cannot Be Mentioned’s dog.