Making Use Of Myself

Evil Little Dog can't be contained, obviously. But, to her credit, she has absolutely zero interest in even a bird, fluttering in one of my traps. No, Evil Little Dog sees only rats, pine martens and the dead.

And, for the last four days now, Evil Little Dog has been returning from her adventures letting off such a vile and overpowering stench ~ so all pervading that it took me two or three of those days to even pin it to her!

Because it was filling the cottage, see? I was walking around feeling nauseous from it! I was seriously starting to have thoughts of moving out till it went away! That bad.

Well, anyway; Yesterday, I think it was, Evil Little Dog came in wringing wet. She'd obviously been hunting for rats in the long grass around the stables. What ever. She was wet and her fur was gleaming white, where it's white anyway.

And, I realised, the bang was gone Obviously then, Evil Little Dog had been communing with the dead, shoulder first, as Dogs are want to do. But, now, her transient friend must have passed on to a state less fascinating. And the wet grass had cleansed Evil Little Dog. All was good.

Then, last night, I let all the Dogs out for a last muster. They all came back in, in quick time, except for Ellie. She's abjectly fascinated with rats too. She'll spend hours by the ditch fence, presumably listening to them in the hedge beyond.

But, tonight she was stood staring toward the back gate. No matter. I gently spoke her name. Nothing. I called her. She never even looked back!

I Snapped at her. Making my annoyance plain. Then, losing it completely, I Roared at her, before marching swiftly out there and pushing her bum, screaming at her to Get In!!!

I've never before seen such bad behaviour from her before! Rats or no rats, she wasn't standing out there all night with them.

Cut to this morning. Door open and Ellie Belly's back on point, at the back gate. I don't care about that as my mind's on my Signal Box out there. I want to tweak it.

So, I'm just kneeling down, beside Ellie. About to look at the trap, when Balzac, one of my big Dogs, comes bounding up and shoves his big, flat muzzle right in my ear, for a sniff of my brain.

I turn my face toward his and say; " Balzac! Get out of it! Christ! Ye breath smells!!! "

And then, as if to the sound of many great doors, slamming shut along a long and empty passageway, it all fell into place!

I hot footed it straight out of Dodge. Left Ellie to stare fixedly at the back fence as me, and Balzac of the Breath bolted.

Nothing wrong with his breath, of course. Just a gentle twist in the breeze. And, there's no way I'm looking over that fence. I don't need to see what ever's left now, of Evil Little Dogs one time friend :eek: