Vagueness and the Aftermath - A sporadic diary

[WarBwastard]

[EvilPie]

I'm looking forward to the rest of this story. Apart from the inevitable sad ending that your pet stories always seem to have. 

Well you guessed it Evil, there is a sad ending to the ferret story, but the concept of a  “sad ending” is subjective. If you think about it, most animals have a much shorter life span than we do, so in telling an animal story, it sort of follows that you have to finish by reporting it’s demise.

As I see it, all you can do for any animal in your charge is to ensure that it is well cared for (Both physically and mentally) and then, when the time comes, have the courage to do the decent thing by not allowing it to suffer a long illness or a painful death.

If it falls to you to make sure that your pet has a good death, it’s comforting to know that you also gave it a good life.

It's only recently that I got my first pet. Ronnie the Rottweiler is an absolute joy to own and I love him to bits.

I had stayed clear of animals for so long because of the inevitable heartache when they finally leave you. A close friend of mine told me that no matter how much it hurts when they die the 8 to 10 years that they live are well worth it so I took the plunge.

At 8 months old I almost lost little Ronnie. Despite being vaccinated he contracted Parvovirus and dropped from a very healthy 7 1/2 stone down to 4 1/2 in about 2 weeks. Thankfully he was insured because following £5500 worth of veterinary care he was back home and on the slow road to full recovery.

Anyway Ronnie is now 2 years old and is a very healthy and happy dog. He has his issues which are difficult to control but thanks to some professional help I've managed to keep him in check. I don't know if you have ever owned a dog who is naturally dominant and also very intelligent but they are so difficult to live with. It is a constant battle to stay ahead of him and he is always testing the boundaries.

People think that clever dogs are easier to train but it is exactly the opposite. If you want one that does everything you say then you want a submissive dog of moderate intelligence. One that hasn't got too many ideas of it's own. When you were describing the nature of ferrets I immediately thought of Ronnie. He has to get his nose in everything and I mean everything. He's clever and he's an explorer.

I would also say that Rottweilers aren't a dog for the first time owner. They are naturally stubborn and if you get one at the higher end of this they can be so difficult. Without the help I've had from professionals I have no doubt that I would have had major problems with him. The constant pulling on the lead, chasing everything that went past including cars made walking him a misery. Now he just trots along at my side and it's a pleasure to take him to the local park or indeed anywhere for a nice long walk.

It's thanks to Ronnie that I now get to walk 3 - 5 miles every day and get to see a bit of nature. He's my mate and I'm dreading when that day finally comes that I have to do what's best for him.

Just writing this is making me a bit upset thinking about it so I'm going to stop and take him for a walk. Let's hope the Deer are out on Wollaton Park.

See you soon at DTD Tom.

Cheers

Matt

[RED-DOG]

I'm looking forward to the rest of this story. Apart from the inevitable sad ending that your pet stories always seem to have. 

Well you guessed it Evil, there is a sad ending to the ferret story, but the concept of a  “sad ending” is subjective. If you think about it, most animals have a much shorter life span than we do, so in telling an animal story, it sort of follows that you have to finish by reporting it’s demise.

As I see it, all you can do for any animal in your charge is to ensure that it is well cared for (Both physically and mentally) and then, when the time comes, have the courage to do the decent thing by not allowing it to suffer a long illness or a painful death.

If it falls to you to make sure that your pet has a good death, it’s comforting to know that you also gave it a good life.

It's only recently that I got my first pet. Ronnie the Rottweiler is an absolute joy to own and I love him to bits.

I had stayed clear of animals for so long because of the inevitable heartache when they finally leave you. A close friend of mine told me that no matter how much it hurts when they die the 8 to 10 years that they live are well worth it so I took the plunge.

At 8 months old I almost lost little Ronnie. Despite being vaccinated he contracted Parvovirus and dropped from a very healthy 7 1/2 stone down to 4 1/2 in about 2 weeks. Thankfully he was insured because following £5500 worth of veterinary care he was back home and on the slow road to full recovery.

Anyway Ronnie is now 2 years old and is a very healthy and happy dog. He has his issues which are difficult to control but thanks to some professional help I've managed to keep him in check. I don't know if you have ever owned a dog who is naturally dominant and also very intelligent but they are so difficult to live with. It is a constant battle to stay ahead of him and he is always testing the boundaries.

People think that clever dogs are easier to train but it is exactly the opposite. If you want one that does everything you say then you want a submissive dog of moderate intelligence. One that hasn't got too many ideas of it's own. When you were describing the nature of ferrets I immediately thought of Ronnie. He has to get his nose in everything and I mean everything. He's clever and he's an explorer.

I would also say that Rottweilers aren't a dog for the first time owner. They are naturally stubborn and if you get one at the higher end of this they can be so difficult. Without the help I've had from professionals I have no doubt that I would have had major problems with him. The constant pulling on the lead, chasing everything that went past including cars made walking him a misery. Now he just trots along at my side and it's a pleasure to take him to the local park or indeed anywhere for a nice long walk.

It's thanks to Ronnie that I now get to walk 3 - 5 miles every day and get to see a bit of nature. He's my mate and I'm dreading when that day finally comes that I have to do what's best for him.

Just writing this is making me a bit upset thinking about it so I'm going to stop and take him for a walk. Let's hope the Deer are out on Wollaton Park.

See you soon at DTD Tom.

Cheers

Matt

That's a stunning post Matt, and great insight into dog psychology. 

Somewhere earlier in the thread I touched on the difficulty in traning intelegent dogs. Dogs that are both Intelligent and dominant can be a nightmare for the average owner.

Fortunately, it seems that you are not the average owner, and have taken the time to instil some discipline into what is after all an extremely large and potentially dangerous animal. Good for you.

I'm amazed to know that he made a complete recovery from parvo. That's very rare. Even when dogs survive parvo they usually sustain damage to their nervous system.

I nursed Max, A big husky type that I got from a rescue kennels through parvo. I didn't have 5k to spend but I did have a very kind and benevolent vet who would say "Don't worry, I'll send you a wee bill" knowing full well that I had no address to send it to.

Max survived the parvo, but he was left with a nervous twitch that meant his jaws would snap together unexpectedly, causing him to bite his own lips and tongue. Unfortunately, he had to be put down.

Bloody hell Matt, I'll have to find a story with a happy ending soon.

[ShatnerPants]

Lovely kid there Tom..

Takes after her grandad obv.

I hope not, this Magnum look might not be a bad one for a bloke but for a woman it's just not right.

I might be speaking out of turn here, in which case I apologise.

But is there any money in the Chuckle Brother looky likey business.

 

BTW beautiful lass.

[RED-DOG]

Lovely kid there Tom..

Takes after her grandad obv.

I hope not, this Magnum look might not be a bad one for a bloke but for a woman it's just not right.

I might be speaking out of turn here, in which case I apologise.

But is there any money in the Chuckle Brother looky likey business.

 

BTW beautiful lass.

Stop distracting me. I'm supposed to be writing about ferrets here.

[boldie]

Lovely kid there Tom..

Takes after her grandad obv.

I hope not, this Magnum look might not be a bad one for a bloke but for a woman it's just not right.

I might be speaking out of turn here, in which case I apologise.

But is there any money in the Chuckle Brother looky likey business.

 

BTW beautiful lass.

The lost Chubby Chuckle Brother

[RED-DOG]

Thin Lizzie grew quickly, and I was amazed at how domesticated she became. In some ways, she was just like a puppy following me here and there, getting under my feet, bringing me her toys so that we could play tug of war or fetch.

She was endlessly inquisitive, examining every last detail of anything new that she came across. If you gave her a penny for instance, she would look at it from all angles, then she would turn it over and do the same with the other side. She would taste it, and then she would try to remove the raised lettering. She would pick it up and throw it, and listen with her head on one side to the sound it made when it landed. If she decided that she liked it, she would steal it.

She climbed up everything, and she crawled under everything. If she found a gap or a hole or an opening of any description, she had to squeeze into it. Even if you put the cardboard tube from a toiled roll on the floor, she would go through it rather than go around it.

She loved attention, and she would perform all sorts of tricks to get me to stroke her, or tickle her belly. She would wind herself around my ankles like a cat, or throw herself onto her back on the toe of my boot like a glamour model on the bonnet of a car.

She was beautiful, and totally captivating, it was just like having a cuddly toy that had somehow come to life, but press the right buttons, and instinct would immediately take over. In a fraction of a second, she would switch from cuddly toy to ruthless killing machine. 

I fed her on dog food, which is fine, but ideally ferrets need to ingest a little fur or feather occasionally, the roughage is good for the digestive system, it’s like a sort of ferret version of shredded wheat. So about once a week I would pop out before dawn and collect a small “Road kill” bird or mammal.

The first time I offered her a sparrow (albeit a dead one) I was at the same time both shocked and fascinated by her behaviour.

I put it down on the ground about a yard in front of her. The moment she saw it she froze like a statue, her eyes locked on like lasers, every hair on her body bristling erect.

She started to move slowly forward, her head swaying gently from side to side in a rhythmic, almost hypnotic motion, closer, closer…

When she was about halfway there, I moved the sparrow a few inches with my foot and in a flash she was on it, shaking it with a fury that was terrible to behold. When she was sure that it was dead, she took the corpse to the private section in her box and there she stayed for the rest of the day.

The next morning, I took her out and she was a cuddly toy again. I looked in her bedding straw and all that remained of the sparrow was two wings, two claws, and a small section of skull with a beak attached. 

I decided it was time she went hunting.

[sovietsong]

Brilliant!

[boldie]

Brilliant!

What he said..fascinating stuff.

[phatomch]

christ its gonna take the rest of the week to get part 3 now...













great story so far though Red

[Karabiner]

Blimey......

[tikay]

Rantor the Dog, Jimmy Hamburger the bloke, now Thin Lizzie the Ferret.

Awesome pennage.

[RED-DOG]

I had been ferreting many times, but always as someone’s assistant. Using their equipment and their ferret. Now I was in charge. It was a thrilling prospect.

I spent a couple of weeks getting my equipment together. First I made a ferret-carrying box. Some people like to carry their ferret in a sack or even their pocket, but a box is much safer and more comfortable for the ferret, especially if you are walking long distances, and what’s more, it makes a handy seat if you decide to stop and have a fag. (When you’re 13 or 14, stopping for a fag is almost mandatory).

My ferret box was about a foot square with a hinged lid and a carrying strap made from an old car seat belt. It looked something like this.




I rounded up about half a dozen purse nets. A purse net looks a bit like a string shopping bag. It has a separate cord tied in a running slipknot around the open end. This is attached to a small peg that you push into the ground. When your rabbit bolts, it carries the net along with it until the slipknot pulls tight and closes the neck of the net.








I had a small spade, but what I really wanted was one of those excellent folding ex-army trenching tools that I had seen other ferreters use. Back then there was a huge army surplus store just below the Wicker Arch in Sheffield, so one day after work I walked the two miles or so into Darnall, and then took a two penny bus ride down the Prince of Wales road to Attercliffe.

Anyone who knows Sheffield will be familiar with the Wicker Arch. I remember it as a big black portal, which you had to pass through to enter the city proper. One day they sandblasted away several hundred years worth of accumulated dirt and grime to reveal beautiful carvings in the honey coloured sandstone. Everyone was amazed by this discovery. Until then, even people who had lived in Sheffield all their lives didn’t even know they existed.

The terraces and shops on the Attercliffe side of the arch have been demolished now, but the arch itself is still standing. It looks almost exactly the same as it did on the day that they cleaned it almost 40 years ago. Sometimes when I go that way, I stop the car so that I can go and stand in the same place I stood when I was a boy watching the sandblasting. Sometimes, 40 years is but the blink of an eye.




The army stores had the folding shovel that I wanted, in fact they had dozens of them, but at a cost of 5 bob each, they were out of my price range. I looked at them longingly for a while and I tried to negotiate a price that was more within my means (Probably something less than a shilling) As so often happened to me back then, (and even now come to think of it) in amongst all the everyday indifference, suspicion and prejudice, I managed to bump into someone with a little compassion and kindness.

“Here” He said, “Take this one, it’s a bit rusty but it will clean up a treat.”

I offered him the few coppers that I had, but he waved them away. “Drop it in when you have it to spare” he said.

By the time I did have it to spare, both the shop and the kindly gentleman were no more.

Gone, but definitely not forgotten. 

 

[RED-DOG]

Today, I will mostly be plumbing.

[RED-DOG]

.