• SOAPBOX

    A CERTAIN LACK OF LOGIC

    There are many things about life that confuse me and most of them will continue to do so, but maybe someone could shed some light on something that I can’t get my head around – how come animal shelters are overloaded with abandoned dogs and cats and yet they refuse to allow people working full-time to adopt the animals? They also insist on visiting your home and passing judgement on the adoptees living quarters. They obviously want to make sure the poor unfortunate animal fairs better with you than it did with its previous ‘owner’ and that in itself is understandable, but the vetting is a bit OTT. It’s especially illogical since if you put your hand in your pocket and go to a breeder or even a private citizen selling pups on a website like eBay or donedeal,…

  • SOAPBOX

    DOGGED DISCRIMINATION

     If I was to blog about a notice erected by a Local Authority in Ireland indicating that the amenity they set up with public funds was off limits to people of certain nationalities – lets say German, Zimbabwean, American, English, or Japanese – because the ignorance of received wisdom indicated they were more agressive than other nationalities and especially the indigenous population, there would be an outcry and jobs would be lost. Only right I hear you say (sometimes it’s amazing how I hear your voice in my head dear reader), discrimination is repugnant and should be eradicated. Does this sign exist? Technically yes, but not in reference to humans. The sign refers to certain breeds of dog. Now before you click that button or tap that screen and move on thinking ‘crank’ (there I go again…

  • MY STORY

    COUNTRY ROADS

    My old pal Denver is 12 years of age (84 in dog years) and despite the down at heel  look on his face – it’ll stop soon if you ignore it – he’s actually over the moon about going on his road trip today.   Unlike other migrating species he heads south for the summer and loves it. It doesn’t seem so long ago when he used to first scramble into the boot as a pup and then later bound in when he was fully grown. Today Denver managed to get his front legs into the car by himself but the back legs were my job. Dog years didn’t really mean anything to me when I was young and how could they, I had little to measure them against, but now I’m one of the Golden Guys I really do…