Saturday 25 September 2010

I find that I have been deceived as to the true nature of my partner's "song-bird", discussed in the previous entry.  It was not, I now know, affiliated with an avian specimen but, rather, an awkward condition associated with human "ladies' bits".  This revelation did not please me.  At the first opportunity, whilst my pox-addled partner slept, I downloaded a wee-mail onto our clean bedsheets, making sure that a bit of it went on her leg.  She woke with a start and sleepily began to clean up (I pretended to be asleep), glaring at me and muttering darkly about "canine napkins".  Witness for yourself: Jasper's in Trouble...

But away with this madness!  For I have a most interesting episode involving meat-headed chum, Ewan, to relate.

To set the scene:- some days ago, Ewan and Fizzy (dogs belonging to one of my partner's colleagues) and their partner were having a day off.  At lunch-time, my partner and I took a walk in the woods together.  For one part of the path, just beyond a large and very active badger-sett, the bridleway lies between the woods on one side and a large field, empty at the present time, but generally full of sheep.  I had never been into this field before but, on this occasion, I noticed a recent fox-path giving easy access under the wire fence into the field.  Having run on ahead of my partner, and the field being empty of sheep, I decided to check it out.  I successfully slipped under the wire and trotted further into the field.  A few rabbits were taking advantage of the early-afternoon sunshine and were enjoying a lively game.  I decided to stalk them.

Approximately three metres away from the outer wire fence, another wire-type fence ran all the way around the large field.  Keeping my eyes fixed on the young rabbits in the middle of the field, I crept under the lowest strand of the fence, stopping still as a couple of the rabbits turned and looked in my direction, crouching under the wire, which seemed to be emitting a low hum.  All of a sudden, there was a click and I felt a sharp jolt, which shuddered through me.  It was as though I had received an unexpected smart slap on my rump.  Squealing in surprise, I leapt away from the fence.  I stared at it as it continued to hum.  At regular intervals, another soft click would sound.  I sniffed cautiously at the lowest strand of fence - only to receive another shudder-inducing zap on my snout.  This was my first encounter with an electric fence.  The shocks were not especially painful, but unpleasant enough for me to understand that such fences should be left well-alone in future.

Taking care not to touch the wire again, I slithered back under the inner fence.  It did not escape me that a couple of the rabbits grinned and gave me a cheeky wave as I retreated to the outer, non-electrical, fence.  I declined to waste my breath in shouting angry profanities at them, so I rejoined my partner on the bridleway.

As we proceeded on the rest of our walk, the more mischievous of the wheels in my mind began to turn and plans for a cheeky little "experiment" took shape...

To be continued....

Good night.