I wanted to get to my 'puter earlier to tell you this tale, but things happened and I reckon 'better late than forgetting later' so here you go now.
I've had a very 'doggy' day, as in I've met loads of my furry, four-legged canine friends in the locale, and after a conversation earlier with one of their humans, I remembered an incident that involved my long-departed, but 'ever-in-my-heart', doggy friend, Sheba.
When I was very nearly a teenager, Supermarkets were still a bit of a rarity and the majority of the family shopping was made on the local high street.
The high street at the time offered just about anything and everything you could possibly need as the variety of shops could have given a modern Tesco a run for their money between them, and all within the space of your average small village high street.
As every shop was within walking distance and frequented by every other neighbour in the immediate locale, every shopper knew every customer, down to what was on their shopping list from one week to the next.
The only shop that didn't have such regular clientele, was the hardware and gardening store that was between the post office and a newsagents.
This shop was a regular cornucopia of delights if you liked to do DIY and gardening, and to entice customers into the shop to make purchases, the boss would put on a display of the many small pot-plants he had to sell outside the shop on the pavement.
Now, not only did I go shopping with my dad, but the dogs we had then (Sheba and Chips) would come along with us, and they were so well behaved that they were let into the shops while my dad got whatever we needed on the list that week.
One fine summer's day however, we'd gone into the DIY/gardening store as my dad wanted some stuff for the garden.
I followed my dad into the shop after Chips, and it took me a little while to notice that Sheba was not with us, and so I went to find out where she'd got to.
Now, remember I told you that the owner of the shop put out a display of the pot-plants he had for sale outside on the pavement? Well. One of the plants he had in that week were some very pretty long-stemmed flowers, with a cluster of tiny little pink blossoms right on top of the stems. They were rather like a miniature version of onion flowers, and I thought them very lovely indeed.
Sheba however, did not share my admiration of the flowers, and was intent on showing her displeasure of them by very daintily going up to each bloom in turn, and taking the flower head into her mouth before sharply nipping it off and then disdainfully spitting the flowers into the gutter.
By the time I realized what she was up to, she'd managed to wreak nearly £10 worth of damage to the flowers, which back then was a helluva lot of money, and all I could think of to do was to grab her and run back home as quickly as we could before we got caught.
A short while later my dad came back in a very angry mood and demanded an explanation as to why I'd run off leaving him to do the shopping without telling him what was going on, but after I'd explained about the errant hound's act of vandalism towards nature, he saw the funny side of the situation and let me and Sheba off with a warning not do do that sort of thing ever again.
To this day I don't' know why Sheba took such a dislike to those particular blooms, but if I ever saw her near them I'd grab her and run away before she could repeat the crime.
I've had a very 'doggy' day, as in I've met loads of my furry, four-legged canine friends in the locale, and after a conversation earlier with one of their humans, I remembered an incident that involved my long-departed, but 'ever-in-my-heart', doggy friend, Sheba.
When I was very nearly a teenager, Supermarkets were still a bit of a rarity and the majority of the family shopping was made on the local high street.
The high street at the time offered just about anything and everything you could possibly need as the variety of shops could have given a modern Tesco a run for their money between them, and all within the space of your average small village high street.
As every shop was within walking distance and frequented by every other neighbour in the immediate locale, every shopper knew every customer, down to what was on their shopping list from one week to the next.
The only shop that didn't have such regular clientele, was the hardware and gardening store that was between the post office and a newsagents.
This shop was a regular cornucopia of delights if you liked to do DIY and gardening, and to entice customers into the shop to make purchases, the boss would put on a display of the many small pot-plants he had to sell outside the shop on the pavement.
Now, not only did I go shopping with my dad, but the dogs we had then (Sheba and Chips) would come along with us, and they were so well behaved that they were let into the shops while my dad got whatever we needed on the list that week.
One fine summer's day however, we'd gone into the DIY/gardening store as my dad wanted some stuff for the garden.
I followed my dad into the shop after Chips, and it took me a little while to notice that Sheba was not with us, and so I went to find out where she'd got to.
Now, remember I told you that the owner of the shop put out a display of the pot-plants he had for sale outside on the pavement? Well. One of the plants he had in that week were some very pretty long-stemmed flowers, with a cluster of tiny little pink blossoms right on top of the stems. They were rather like a miniature version of onion flowers, and I thought them very lovely indeed.
Sheba however, did not share my admiration of the flowers, and was intent on showing her displeasure of them by very daintily going up to each bloom in turn, and taking the flower head into her mouth before sharply nipping it off and then disdainfully spitting the flowers into the gutter.
By the time I realized what she was up to, she'd managed to wreak nearly £10 worth of damage to the flowers, which back then was a helluva lot of money, and all I could think of to do was to grab her and run back home as quickly as we could before we got caught.
A short while later my dad came back in a very angry mood and demanded an explanation as to why I'd run off leaving him to do the shopping without telling him what was going on, but after I'd explained about the errant hound's act of vandalism towards nature, he saw the funny side of the situation and let me and Sheba off with a warning not do do that sort of thing ever again.
To this day I don't' know why Sheba took such a dislike to those particular blooms, but if I ever saw her near them I'd grab her and run away before she could repeat the crime.
posted by Misty at 13.5.10
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