MauriceMynah Posted January 5, 2017 Share Posted January 5, 2017 Peter, I'm not sure for how long one may stand in a park calling out "Watch... Watch... Watch, come here, ...Watch" before the boys in blue came over to have a word. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Vaughan Posted January 6, 2017 Share Posted January 6, 2017 In the 70s my parents bought a holiday apartment in Tenerife and spent their winters there. In the central gardens of this little holiday development there were 3 stray dogs, which used to come and see them to scrounge for food. Father named them Buzzoff, Giddoff and Soddoff. Two of them eventually took him at his word but Buzzoff stayed the course and became one of the family. His first gundog, after the war, was an already old Black Labrador who wandered in off the street during a New Year's Eve dinner dance and attached himself to my father. He also ate most of his dinner! No-one ever claimed him so father, being ex Navy, called him "Bosun". He became known on Norfolk shoots as "the poacher's dog" as someone or other had trained him very well. Father would stand at the corner of a field and the dog would go quietly up the middle to the other end. He would then work the hedgerow back towards father, putting up pheasant and hare as he came. No word of command was necessary! I have always said that if I have another dog, I will call him The Buffer. In the Navy, that is the chief bosun's mate. Oh yes, my mother also used to have a Scottie. Father called him Sawnoff. 4 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
addicted Posted January 6, 2017 Share Posted January 6, 2017 Back in the 1920s my father lived with his parents in Millom,Cumberland for a time and while there my nan acquired a working collie from a local famer. They brought it with them when they returned to North London. While out with the dog early one morning my nan was walking past the slaughter house that was close to where she lived, just as she was passing a lorry arrived loaded with sheep. As the unloading of the sheep began the tail gate of the lorry fell off and there was dozens of frantic sheep running all over Phillip Lane a main road in Tottenham, Nan could see the dog was very keen to get going so she slipped his lead and with no instructions he herded them all into the slaughterhouse entrance, much to the delight of the slaughterhouse owner who offered my nan a sizeable amount of money for the dog but she wouldn't sell him. I have no idea what his name was, Dad never said when he told this story. Carole 4 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
ExUserGone Posted January 6, 2017 Share Posted January 6, 2017 This natural born predator of the wild is Winston (normally said in a racially ironic tone by most people), not my choice as he's a rescue mut and came with the name. He's as vicious as he looks...... We did have 3 rescue cats that originated from the middle east, I wanted to call them saddam, Abu, and Osama, saddam because she was playing with a piece of rope just as the other saddam had, abu because she had a bit missing (tail not hand), and osama because he was just a complete terrorist, they ended up as dinky (smallest), stumpy (obviously the one with no tail), and gobby (short for gobsh*te as he was bloody loud), all now keeled over from old age. 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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