On the housing estate we grew up on everyone had a dog and they were always referred to by both their name and the surname of the family that owned them. So we had ‘Skipper’ Grimes, ‘Butch’ Phelan and ‘Bundy’ Perkins etc. We had a jack russell named ‘Pa’ that my aul lad named after kilkenny full back Pa Dillon. When Pa (the dog) died my aul lad bought a thoroughbred Ayredale Terrier bitch called Candy. He had some vague notion of breeding her and making some badly needed cash out of it.
When Candy was in heat every dog on the northside would be mooching around looking for the ride. Protecting her virtue became an endeavour for the whole family, spearheaded by the aul fella. We had a big back garden wall that most dogs couldn’t get over, but Bundy Perkins, who was not the biggest dog but was certainly the most determined (or most horny) made the jump one day. My aul lad saw him and ran upstairs and got his pellet gun (acquired for shooting magpies, culchies hate magpies). Myself and my brother and sisters were all watching spellbound as Bundy went through a fairly brisk foreplay routine. Just as Bundy got himself in position with his paws on a more than willing Candy’s back, we heard the crack of the pellet gun. I never asked Bundy, but it looked like he took the pellet right on the arse. Using Candy as a sort of vaulting horse (or dog) she leapt right over the big garden wall all the while howling like a very surprised wolf.
For a finish Candy wound up getting rode by every mongrel in Finglas (not unlike my first girlfriend) and having several litters of mongrel pups that we struggled to find homes for. I strongly suspect some of them wound up at the bottom of the Tolka. As my brother remarked to me recently ‘its no wonder we are all a bit tapped in the head, growing up with that shit going on’.
I doubt if the little pets are living in dormitories housing 30 muldoons with lockers and handbasins bereft of hot taps and radiators that I never recalled emitting any form of heat. They’re probably billeted 2 to a room with a wee bathroom/ shower and probably a little fridgéén for Zoe’s little stash of treats for bedtime. I’m sure, being girls, they’ll find time for ablutions and showers and hair curling……Dont test me……
You’re going to have to let this one go me oul segotia…
Times have changed…
I’m off to a boarding school tomorrow as luck would have it… I’ll make enquiries on your behalf.
Barcelona