Tuesday, June 09, 2009

On guide dogs

On guide dogs

"I'm telling you," said Gaz over his pint of tasty, tasty Guinness, "Believe you me, Rottweilers make awful Guide Dogs. I, for one, should know."

I cannot argue. The fact that Gaz actually has a Guide Dog and has spent much of his professional life in doomed attempts to train them to answer the phone gives him a far better perspective on this issue than I.

He knows – to use the correct canine term – when he's been sold a pup.

"But..." I say, seeing my investment in several dozen spare Rottweilers and Staffies disappearing before me, "Surely, they're good for something?"

In truth –as ane fule kno – they are good for something, but that 'something' happens to be 'selling to chavs out of the back of a van', moments before the 'setting enraged, half-starved killing machine on me stealing all my money'. Not – at the end of the day – an enterprise in which I would like to remain involved.

"You might as well take 'em back to the shop," said Gaz, breaking into his sixth packet of dry roast of the evening, a habit that will surely end in nothing but woe in the early hours.

I harrumph and take a gulp of my pint of tasty, tasty Guinness.


"Yeah, take 'em back to the shop. Or give 'em to the Army. They like to fire 'em out of a big cannon at the Taliban, you know. They don't like it up 'em."

I have the vaguest of suspicions he may be lying, even though I know for 100 per cent of FACT that if there's one thing the Taliban don't like, it's getting it up 'em.

Then: The penny drops, and all of a sudden I am struck by a 'This time next year, Rodders' thought.

And it is this: Even chavs need guide dogs. Blind chavs who wouldn't be seen dead with the standard issue Labrador. Even an Alsatian wouldn't be good enough for these knock-off Burberry-clad types, seen in some quarters of incredibly violent BNP-voting half-wit as a ponce's breed.

"Gaz," I venture, buttering him up with a fresh pint of tasty, tasty Guinness, "I've got just the thing you're looking for."

"I'm not buying whatever it is."

"No, listen – Attack Guide Dogs for blind people who live in rough neigbourhoods. It's a win/win."


"Awww, come on – boon companion, seeing eye, will rip the throat out of anybody that so much as glances at you in a funny way."


"I'll let you train them to hold his spliff and kebab while the owner's having a shop doorway knee-trembler with the local fat girl."

"Oh, go on then. Deal."

This time next year, Rodders...

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