War Dog, aka Bob
Yup, we get it, there’s a recession; big deal, or so I thought anyway, until my Mum shrunk me in the washing machine, Yikes!
Anyway, it all started a few years ago, when one night a bunch of Chinks moved into the house over the road from us. They used to irritate us, coming home every night after midnight and gibbering n jabbering like they do, waking us up. Well it would appear, no surprises here then, that they worked in a Chinky, hence the stench of no 21, emanating from yup, house 21. We think the recession must have started about three years ago, cos that’s when the chinks started to take in washing, and most of the family pets round here used to stay indoors, much more than they ever used to before. Well, either the Chinks outstayed their Visa or moved further up North to Morecambe, but one night they disappeared and among all the debris they left behind, was an old industrial washing machine. My Mum’s middle name isn’t Prudence for nothing, you know and she soon had my Dad out there in his PJs, dragging the washing machine into the garage. ”That will do for a rainy day” she reckoned.
Well as you all know, the recession is now in full swing, the washing has broken down and Mum has turned down the heating. Well she had poor old Dad drag the Chinkie’s machine out of the Garage and into the Utility Room and told him to plumb it in. ”That will save a few Bob” she chirped.
Not kidding you now, but at night, when it’s cold and with the heating turned down so low, it might as well be off, and my PJs so thin, they are about as much use as T**ts on a Bull, I had to do something, I was freezing at night and Mum has already kicked me out of bed and was making threatening noises towards my Dad, saying she won’t let him out of bed, as he keeps her warm. What’s a boy to do?
Well, just by chance, one night I was cold and couldn’t sleep so was having a sniff around the Chinkies washing machine, and thought I detected an odour of cat in there. Maybe the previous owners used to boil them in there? Anyway, I crept in, following my nose, as you do, but nothing was to be found, not even some cold wet white slice, must have been my imagination! Anyway, once in the machine, I discovered how warm it still was from the washing, Mud had Dad do, earlier that day. So, ever the opportunist, I decided to snuggle down in the warmth and make the most of it. Well, would you believe it, I was so warm, I must have slept in, cos the next thing I know, someone was chucking towels in beside me. Well I thought, Dad must be trying to make me more more comfortable – he is a Gem you know. Then, the door slammed shut, that awful stuff, water, started to trickle into the machine and the temperature stared to rise. If I wasn’t so wet, I reckon I might have sweated. Then, I was tumbling round and round. I was really frightened, especially when the machine stared spinning. You are probably thinking, how a big dog like me managed to fit in the machine. Well it was a big industrial machine and yes, it was a bit of a squeeze, but strangely enough, the longer I was trapped, the more space there appeared to be. Luckily enough for me, Mum had Dad put the machine on a low temp wash, cos of the recession and there was not so much water, I would drown. Anyway, eventually the door opened and I shot out of that machine quicker than a rat up a drainpipe. I don’t know who was more shocked, Dad or me, once I caught sight of my reflection in the washing machine door.
Bob after his release from the Washing Machine
I used to be a 26Kg prime hunting War Dog and now look at me! All I could hear was Dad shouting ” Honey, I shrunk the dog…” to which Mum replied, “Well that will cut down on the food bill…”
Maybe one day I will grow up?
