Me vs Dog (Round 2)

Those who have read some of the earlier entries will know that my family has a pet dog.  His name is Lucky.

Initially he was intended as my dog. However, having realized the pecking order, he sacked me off and pursued a territorial grab. My territory.

Over the last few years we have played a mind games with one another to assert top dog - yes I know I know, I am talking about a dog. But he is clever little git.

Locked in a mini cold war, except when he goes all out and gets near the nuclear option - another story for another time.

Dad on the other hand used to think it was all in my head. Brushing it off and telling me to stop making stories. After all: “Lucky is only a dog”.

Occasionally though, old man alpha gets to experience what I am on about.  Occasionally Lucky becomes so emboldened that he makes an all-out leadership coup.

This is a story about one of those times.  Dad no longer thinks it is a figment of imagination.

Dad: “I am cutting the lawn. Come on boy.”

Obviously, he was talking to Lucky. I am grateful if I get a grunt of acknowledgement let alone being called son or boy. No resentment or Dad issues here...honest!

Lucky did not move. 

Dad: “Oi, come on. We are going outside.”

Lucky looked at him.

Mr TaT: “He’s warm and snug. You ain’t getting him outside today.”

Dad: “We’ll see.”

Dad pretended he had a treat; the young prince left his warm bed and walked over. But there was no treat, instead Lucky got swooped up and Dad took him outside.

Mr TaT: “You might regret that you know.”

Dad: “Oh no...he might take my ‘territory’! Whatever will I do!?”  Feigning mock horror, he walked away laughing.

For the next part, some context will be needed. You see, due to the time taken to mow the lawn, the family invested in a sit on lawn mower.

Its a pretty cool piece of kit, and one does feel farmer like when driving the thing. Its fun too; you can pick up some good speed. In fact, its fast enough to “pop some wheelies” - the reason why my brother got banned from grass cutting.

Anyway; sit on lawn mower; dad pretending to be farmer; Lucky with a point to prove.

I was in the lounge writing a few emails for the following week, sitting in front of the window looking out on the garden. 

I saw dad and Lucky next to the lawnmower. Dad checking it over and Lucky playing around and keeping him company. 

Awww, bless - man and his best friend. It was like a scene from Countryfile; Dad even had a farmer’s cap on.

I went back to my emails. A while later I looked up and saw dad mowing the lawn. Over the years he had perfected the art of making lines in the grass giving the lawn an added touch of class.  He had obviously been watching his Youtube vids.

Mum: “Where’s Lucky?” A bit of concern in her voice when she couldn't find him.

Mr TaT: “Yeah, he is outside with Dad.”

Come to think of it, I hadn’t seen him for a while now. We didn’t want a repeat incident - Lucky, with classic little man syndrome, launched into a live road just to pick a fight with a dog three times his size.

I was beginning to get up when I saw him.

Mr TaT:  “Yeah, he is...”

What I saw next took me through shock to hysterical laughter within seconds. I am still chuckling as I write these lines.

I saw Lucky bolt on to the scene like a bat out of hell. From where I sat it looked like man’s best friend was eagerly trying to catch up with master on the mower.

Awww, bless.

The dog, it turned out, had other intentions...

He raced over to just a few meters away, turned his back to dad, squatted and you guessed it.  He left a sample for his master, right in the path way of the mower.

After doing this, he again bolted. This time at break neck speed away from Dad. Looking back in a “haha, so long sucker!” kind of way. 

Laughter like you would not believe, I nearly fell off the chair. Mum even came in to see if I was alright!

I looked over to dad. He had gone from looking all proud that his best friend was running to him to abject disgust and then anger at what the little thing had just done!

The worst bit was that Dad now had to stop making those special lines and pick up the deposit.  Lest we be treated to the proverbial literally hitting the fan.

Joy of joy, I was on the floor belly laughing.  Lucky had one upped the old man. That's what the git could do just to teach a lesson for pretending to give treats.

A while later they came in.

Mr TaT:  ”All good?”

 Dad:  ”Yup, grass cut and time to watch the game.”

Mr TaT:  ”Lucky alright was he?”

Dad:  “Yeah.”

There was no eye contact.

Mr TaT:  “He didn't give you any jip for the trick you played with the treats?”

Dad:  “Nah, good as gold.”

Mr TaT:  “Really...”

Further context: we recently had a cctv system put in.  This now meant I could replay the whole garden experience...

How Lucky had sprinted over, made a deposit and how dad was flinging his arms in disbelief.

But there was more, the cameras had captured something I missed.  We now watched dad trying and failing to catch the little angel.  It was like a scene from a Benny Hill episode, just missing the music!

This was comedy gold.

In his most serious tone... 

Dad:  “You will not utter a word.”

Well, he didn't say anything about writing did he!

Lessons:

• Do not underestimate pets - they have means of exacting vengeance.

• Someone is always watching.