Archive for the ‘Stupidity’ Category

I’m all teeth


I was riding the bus to work this morning, standing in the aisle, making eyes at mum as usual. The bus stopped and some people got on the bus. One man stopped and refused to walk past me, he obviously didn’t want to – he was scared, I think.

The other passengers told him to just walk past. He wouldn’t.

He said, gesturing at me, “But it’s got teeth! It bites!”

Mum heard a passenger retort, “We’ve ALL got teeth!”


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Mum and I are really NOT happy about this new Rent-a-Dog service that’s hopped over from the USA. It’s not fair to the dog. It’s all about the hooman’s needs. But what about the dog’s needs? A dog needs a stable, loving home. A routine that it can feel safe in. Not shunting about between different families.

Dogs are as intelligent as a three year old. Rent-a-Child, anyone?

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We wanted to get home and called a cab. As mum was about to get in, the cabbie said

– You’re very lucky that I’m taking you. The other drivers wouldn’t.

What? WHAT?!!!

Mum demanded an explanation. He said they wouldn’t like a dog in their car. It’s their car. But HE is allowing me in his car. It’s a favour. So we’re very lucky that he’s taking us.

So he’s doing us a favour. Oh. Well, that’s all right then!

She asked him what if she was black, would he still say he was doing us a favour by taking us in his cab and that we are very lucky to be given a ride. He totally missed the point, didn’t understand this at all.

You should’ve heard the argument mum had with him. She was livid. She went on and on and on.

She told the cabbie to go to hell and took me back inside. Just as well, because I was shaking. The cab company sent another driver, who kept apologising and he wouldn’t even take mum’s fare. He was so nice, and said he knows his colleague was wrong. We should be getting the same service as everybody else, be taken to where we want to go, not be told we’re only getting a ride because it’s a favour.

Grrrr grrr grrrr. Mum says I should’ve bitten his ankles.

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Australian v Mexican

We went to a Walkabout pub in Covent Garden to celebrate David’s birthday. As mum went in the door, the doorman shouted at her to come back, that she couldn’t take a dog in. Mum pointed out I’m a Hearing Dog and they are breaking the law by refusing us access. He said he was phoning his manager and was really nasty and aggressive to mum. Mum tried to explain that she doesn’t need permission but he wouldn’t listen and started shouting at mum. The horrible man. The manager said it is ok for me to go in. Mum said ‘Are you sure?’ and the doorman started shouting again. Mum took no notice and went inside. David couldn’t believe how aggressive this excuse for a hooman being was. We totally hated that pub. The music was too loud, it was packed and I got stepped on, and they don’t even have hoomans on the door.

We made a good start to David’s party and went to Wahaca afterwards, a Mexican restaurant. There were no access problems there at all. A waiter even asked if I wanted a bowl of water – and I got some chicken too! (Mum, I *definitely* want to come back here!)

Of course, I got lots of pats and fuss from people on the train home. None of them were doormen 🙂


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Bl**dy train doors


Mum got a fright today.

We were on our way home and we got to the train station. The train was sooo crowded, there were so many people that it was hard to get on. I jumped on first then the doors slammed shut behind me, before mum managed to jump on! Mum couldn’t get the doors to open, neither could the other hoomans on the train, and the train pulled out of the station. With me on it. And mum was on the platform. I just stared at mum’s panicky face through the window. I mean, what could I do?

I saw mum run over to the guard. Some nice hooman made sure I got off the train at the next stop and the station manager took me into his warm office. A little while later – oh okay, it was a LONG while later – mum’s white face appeared round the door and she was sooo glad to see me! I was fine, happy as Lassie (I didn’t tell mum someone on the train had been feeding me steaks)

Mum had been very worried. She thought she would never see me again!

She keeps muttering ‘Those stupid f***king train doors! Why don’t they have flashing lights or something??’

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It seems the witches are already out and about, but in disguise. Mum took me to the park at lunchtime and I was walking along, minding my own business, when this hooman said to mum she doesn’t like dogs. Mum walked on. Next thing we knew, this witch had kicked me really hard with her pointy boots.


Mum was livid. Absolutely fooking livid. She hasn’t lost her temper in ten years and she lost it big time. I was so scared! She gave me a cuddle and took me to the doggy doctor (maybe mum should buy shares in his practice?) and I was proclaimed fighting fit. Mum is so relieved but is on the G&T tonight. I don’t blame her.

What kind of stoopid hooman kicks a dog? It’s wrong wrong wrong!

Ugly actions and words come out of ugly people with ugly faces. It’s Halloween – they’re all crawling out of the woodwork this week.

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