& - Sundays,

Miureb 31,

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> North Share News

get this
straight

by Doug Collins

A new dog
for old Doug

like Mike.

I as far

christened.

Mike iso a two-year-old
Boxer dog. After any old
bow-wow died, we weren't
going to have any more dogs.
Sykes was itrephiceable.
Then Son Number Two came
charging in one day, babbling
about this new dog.

Mike was a real champion,
he said. Noble. Perfectly
shaped. A prancing, dancing
son of @ gun (or bitch) who
would slay us. And he was
available.

Yeah, says 1. Thanks but
no thanks. No more dogs.
Can't stand it when they go
to the big kennel in the sky.

But the seed was sown,

as I’m

“No more dogs.
/ can’t stand

it when they

go to the

big kennel

in the sky.’

Fi |

We took Mike on spec for
half a day to see what he was
hike.

What he was like was that
he pulled Gray-Eyes along
for half a mile without stopp-
ing. An exuberant dog, one
might say. But handsome as
Old Harry. A real beaut.

Gray-Eyes was the first to
crack,

“Ti would be nice to have a
dog to take for a walk
again,’’ she said.

“And it would be nice to
have someone to do some
barking. In addition to you,”’
she said.

Mminm,

“You are impossible to
wake up at night when there
are strange noises,"* she said.
“We could have our throats
cut."

Ten days later Mike had
been adopted. And vou could
tell he liked his new home
because he swiped hal! a
pound of burter from the kit-
chen counter the moment we
went Gut. Demolished the lot,
he did. Slurp, slurp

Vhat evenitny, an unsuspec-
ting Son Nutoher three pop-
pedin., And as he popped in,

Mike popped out. bike
lightning,

Make dikes toaogo
watkabout,

There followed a wild
vine in othe dark down
Mating Drive, with Son

Nuntber Thive in hot pursuit,
cars Bhiitny chice hoes, aad

Actually, his name isn't Mike.
concerned

But

re-

It's Mica.
he's been

Mike and san both pissing
death by inches.

AN couple of days later,
Mike pot the butter again.
Plus the bread. We came
back to find aregulat tea par-
ty in progress, with apples
and oranges scattered around
the house, too.

Mike likes everything.

For our absences, we ar-
langed bacricades. Mike
Knocked them down. This
Boxer is as big as a horse.

Rarricades were erected at
night to keep him away from
furniture that was not built
for dogs. | come dawn one
morning and there he is,
snoring happily on the sofa.
The barricades look as ita
shel had hit them,

Having a guilty conscience,
he jumps off the sofa real
quick. | give hime a whack on
the backside. Whereupon he
pees in the kitchen. | prompt
iy renounce violence.

More and bigger bar

ricades. The house begins to
look like Paris during the
French Revolution.

“When he isn’t
eating bread and
butter or destroy-
ing barricades,
Mike is a
sweetie-pie.’’

Gray-Eyes and [venture
outagain, Mike being stronge-
ly barricaded into the hall.
He is still there when we
retirn, but has tossed his
water-filled bowl around in
rage, ospitliug the water,
matucally, He has also caten a
couple of newspapers. Mike
was mad,

Gray-Eyes says be was just
gambolling. ike a lamb,

When he isn't cating bread
and butter or desiraying bar-
ricades, Mike is a sweetiespie.
Soft brown aderun: eves.
Head on your foot. or nuzzt-
Ing vote A Tovely chap.

Mike about ta va to
svhook forthe second time. |
hear. And as mentioned the
other day. when thas aver
fre and fare seme fo poose-
step down Marine Drive
tovether.

Thike Mike,

int

Mike sfeate us,

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