A German Shepherd guards the gents.
There has been a lot of dog activity lately here on medium. I believe a quiz regarding dogs was on the agenda. I did not enter the quiz, but I do have a doggy story to tell.
Many years ago, I worked in a printers based in South London. It was a young company, and anyone over thirty was considered old.
On Friday evenings, we would all gather in a pub to relax after a hard week’s work (Oh yes, we did). The publican of this establishment was the owner of an Alsatian, or a German shepherd, a fairly docile creature, who would lie at the side of an entrance that led to the toilets.
This posed no problem, as he would let people pass without a murmur or growl, but with one exception.
One of our group, a chap named Mick Smith, was petrified of dogs, and was terrified of this animal. The problem was, if he wanted to use the loo, he would have to pass this dog.
As soon as Mick rose to his feet, the dog would lazily move himself to the centre of the entrance and flop down and, with its head on its paws, just stare at poor old Mick. The landlord was aware of this and, when not busy, would just shove the dog aside. But when he was unavailable, the only way through was for one of us to escort Mick to his destination.
When being accompanied by someone without fear, the dog would move aside and let us pass. Although Mick made sure there was someone between him and his tormentor. The same ritual had to be performed for the return journey.
I must admit some cruel humour was meted out.
On the odd occasion when Mick was dying for a visit, we would often make him wait for his escort.
Oh, the cruelty of youth. It was funny, though. Well, we all thought it was, the dog didn’t seem to care.
No sense of humour German Shepherds.
Some more stories from me.
How deep is the ocean. How high is your house?
I have a problem bonding with James.
