I MEET MY GODFATHER MR G a Ca Ca Caaa CAT PERSON: COMMENTS ON OBESE WELSH CORGIS
Last Saturday Fay and Bob invited my godfather Mr G over for dinner and upon entering the house I gave him a very warm welcome. When my tail wags at 100 kms an hour rest assured that is the seal of approval from a West Highland Terrier. Some smart ass “canine experts” pontificate (thinking we are a rattlesnake) the rapid tail movement hypnotizes our prey so they are jelly when we finish them off. No doubt the musing of some Brit academic with his/her head up the ass offering smirky comments on Scottish canine royalty. Talk about Brits, isn’t it telling those wanker English monarchs are cuddling overweight Welsh Corgis so bloated they can’t even run! I dare any of you readers to find an overweight Westie! We are willing to fight slow witted Welsh Corgis at anytime assuming they can pull themselves away from the telly watching Coronation Street while stuffing their gullet with dainties at High Tea. They are fat wankers with ABSURD freakish ears! Too much Welsh coal dust has created some problems for that breed.
A friendly man Mr G is and despite smelling of cat his heart secretly gushes admiration for West Highland Terriers. I can smell it! He muses fondly about his cats B and N but in his heart he’s rather have me! Bob and Mr G debate who is going to be the boss when I encounter his two cats.
Mr G brought me huge squeaky animal as a fitting “tribute” to a West Highland Terrier. I understand this means if anyone fucks with me, assuming I can’t “dispose” of the problem Mr G as godfather has assumed a moral obligation to “protect” me. Mess with me and you might find a severed horse head in your bed courtesy of Mr G! He is an awesome dude, and I promise in return I will be a gentleman with his cats. I knew a few cats as a wee pup in the kennel and they weren’t bad sorts!
Comments from Dylan the Westie from the Land Beyond
From Rory’s comments above you might judge him as somewhat arrogant and ignorant. I have interacted with Mr G’s cats and while off standish we happily mingled and permitted me to eat their cat food and drink from their water bowl. No way I’d ever be hospitable enough to relieve myself in their “litter box” though.
Can you take his comments so very seriously when he is not a potty-trained Westie!
In reflection though, my first encounters with Mr G had me ferociously barking at him so as for manners toward Mr G I am a bit embarrassed. Rory had a great degree of diplomacy! A class act despite his puppydom.
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