A foil to Paddington
Weighing in at a solid 40+ kilos, James the Rottweiler is at least 3 kg heftier than Ste's grandmother Ida. James is pet to the Ratschillers -Ste's relatives- though I would go so far as to say that the family belongs to It. They are captives in their own home. For you see, James is the most frighteningly flatulent dog on the planet. King Pong does not even begin to describe the nefarious, olfactory-scorching emissions from this roving monster's behind.
Unlike the more whimsical and rounded bouquet that one might forgive from a dog of this breeding –perhaps farts vaguely reminiscent of healthy, DRY canine chow- James' blast came like a bat out of hell, stinking the bejesus out of us while we sat round the crackling fireplace. There was no layering, no gradation … nowhere to hide from the merciless wall of gaseous turd, which plunged its tentacles down our shell-shocked nostrils.
"JAMES!!!"
A jet black head rose from its paws and two large, languid eyes gazed over. Sweet victory flickered for a split second in an animal mind.
"Ventilation … gag … gag ..." was what went through ours.
3 comments:
I adore Rottweilers! they can look a bit scary but I love their big bear like heads! POST A PIX!
AH, so demanding! :)
Here is the only photo I have of mighty James, which was taken when we were first acquainted, in December 2003.
thanks dear!! can't really see his head but what a great sleek coat!
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