Twas a dark and stormy night and a chef had laid out all the makings of a fine beef stroganoff. Thin fillet, sliced with care, red peppers, sliced with care, a few green peppers to surprise the palate, and sour cream, paprika, rice in the rice cooker aromatic and things looking good.
The dog ate the beef. Gulped it. In one Beagly go. What really pissed me off is that it didn’t even taste it! Just a great swallow!
It was a moment that made all the difference.
Buggly had just over stepped the mark.
I gave him a smacking and he managed a growl. That’s really not going to work with me. I’m not a strong man but hauling a big fat stealing beagle up and watching it trying to bite my face fills me with no fear. The beagle saw in my eyes a relentless and undying hatred and I decided then and there that Buggly, our beagle, would die.
Annabel came home and cooed and whooed about Buggly and said “Oh Daddy! You smashed his house!”
For the record I didn’t. I simply kicked it in utter frustration and repaired it immediately. Nice carpentry work on that dog house, despite its vile occupant’s attempts to eat it and break out.
That was a close one for Buggly. If Annabel hadn’t come back Buggly right now would be burning in the hell it belongs.
“Oh poor boy, Buggly!” said Annabel, “Daddy you’re so mean!” then she immediately forgot her dog (as usual) and raced upstairs to chat with the friends she’d spent all day at school with.
The dog and I had unfinished business.
I gave the thieving stinking piss over my outdoor 3D art workshop big eared brainless bastard a bash on the head with a broken Mongolian mandolin wrecked by Buggly. Great boing. Thin wood. Thick skull. No brain. In retrospect a pointless exercise!
“What was that, Daddy?” an anxious Annabel voice from upstairs.
“Me,” I explained.
I had a chat with Chang.
I had a subsequent chat with Annabel and Midi. I explained that if we were going to New York, Buggly would not be coming with us.
“New life, new home, new dog!” I said.
Annabel was heartbroken for about three minutes and talked about “abandonment”. Four minutes later she was choosing new names for her new dog in New York. She has about as much emotional attachment to her beagle as it has to her.
Chang will look after the beagle. The two of them actually like each other. Buggly’s going to Burma. And he won’t notice the difference.
Beagles are like that. But Buggly will be loved in Burma and spoiled rotten. Rather than being slaughtered violently by me in Bangkok. Or more sensibly, sold to a restaurant. It is a pedigree. And fat. Current rate 500 Baht a kilo. With a certificate of pedigree that fee could soar!
We have a degree of pedigree upstairs come to think of it.
I’ll have a rethink.