It’s been such a sad week of news that we think we need to make our readers smile again. Mummy and I have been thinking of how to tell this funny George story without photos to illustrate.
Here goes …
Many of you already know he was a street dog culled from the streets in Hungary. The first few days when he came to live with us, he did what came naturally – pee’d and poo’d whenever and wherever – much to Mummy’s horror. But he soon learnt that he couldn’t do that in the home. And he then had to learn he couldn’t do that in our communal courtyard. He could only do so once we get past the big black gates. He had to get used to living with hoomans and the rules.
Well, we can truly say that George has come far. As evidenced by the following …
We had been in the park earlier in the day and he had been eating grass. There was nothing wrong with him, they just do so now and then. That evening we were out for our last walk when George needed to do a poo. He did two little pebbles of it. What a waste of a poo bag, Mummy thought.
But as we entered the courtyard and walking towards our door, George refused to move – splat! And he squatted like he was about to poo. Mummy whispered urgently, not in the courtyard! And then nothing happened. On looking closer, Mummy realised that he wasn’t doing a poo, he had two pieces of poo strung like sausages on a strand of undigested grass that was still attached to his bum! And he knew he wasn’t suppose to go indoors with that hanging about. Mummy was greatly amused and equally proud. Little Georgie from the streets has become particular about his poo-ing habits. Well done George! A tramp no more!!! Maybe he should now be called Master George.
May’s comment: Oh, George, you do make us laugh. You have come a long way from the days when you just squatted right before my eyes and excreted your poo on the kitchen floor. Thank you for making light of matters … and keeping us on our toes.