Tuesday, May 31, 2005


As in my dog, Elvis, not the Elvis.

My buddy Jeff the Farrier came to get some hay Saturday. Thing about Jeff is, he don't like dogs (or cats either, but that's another story) and my boy Elvis knows that Jeff doesn't like him, even though Jeff pets him and plays with him.

I didn't see this, as I was four miles away in another field at the time, but there were witnesses.

Jeff was walking along picking up bales and throwing them on my trailer (he had to borrow mine to move his hay) when Elvis comes along and just casually hikes his leg and whizzes on the bale Jeff is about to pick up. Jeff started in cussing Elvis. "Git outta heah you sonvabitch!" "#%^^@@%Y& blankity-blank=blank dog!

Elvis stopped, gave Jeff a baleful glare, climbed up on the bale, then put his front paws on the ground, squatted and took a dump on top of it (the bale of hay).

For once in his life, Jeff was absolutely speechless. Jeff's buddy Ed, who was watching this event with great interest, turns to my Bride and asked "How long'd it take you to take to train that dog t'do that?"

Of course I had to call him that night. Told him that oughta teach him not to cuss at my hound dog in the future. Shame we don't have video of it.