Yes, it’s the return of the beasts. We regularly have guest writers, editors, artists and even performers on greydogtales, but today is a Guest Dog Day – see later below. If you’ve been following our dark and weird fiction articles, or our Lovecraftian mythology dissections, this might seem confusing. And so it is. But lurchers and longdogs are weirder than most stories, so we are unrepentant.
A while ago we provided you with the cover design for the useful book How to Find Your Lurcher. Mainly because our own two extremely fast longdogs disappear completely in the long grass and bracken on the moors.
Occasionally one will surface for a moment, like a hyperactive tuna arching from the ocean, and then disappear once more. So we have to follow the ripples and hope there’s a dog at the end of them, not something scary. Or scarier. One day we will come face to face with a feral hippopotamus, probably, one which has come out of the River Wharfe for a bracken sandwich. Yorkshire can be like that.
However, we are currently nearer home, fighting Django’s aphid infestation, in which he comes back from every walk covered in the little buggers. We’re not joking.
We’re not sure what spectrum greenfly use to see with, but apparently Django is lit up like a bonfire, because they gather on him in their hundreds, if not thousands. So the rare greenback lurcher has been catalogued, but cameras have not yet been to hand. At the moment the only treatment is to take him outside again and brush him until the numbers go down to a tolerable level, then rush him back in and slam the door.
Speaking of Django, we also think we’ve got a lead on his kangaroo parentage, as we found this on the net recently:
Compare and contrast:
If his ears had been sticking up, as they sometimes do, we would have been sure of it.
But back to ladybirds, conveniently the natural enemy of greenfly. We were fortuitously provided last week with some words from another lurcher victim, Daryl Green, who suggested, via Jenny Kirk, possible contents for a Ladybird Book of Lurchers. All based on painful experience, it would seem. So we thought we’d share…
Where is my lurcher?
This is Jazz. Jazz is a dog.
He is also called a lurcher. When he was a puppy he went to obedience classes. He didn’t learn anything in the twelve weeks he was there. His mummy and daddy wasted their money. They could have spent it on wine.
Jazz hasn’t got a very big brain, He knows his name. He doesn’t know many other things. He doesn’t know ‘fetch’ or ‘come’. He never fetches anything and he comes when he feels like it. Not when he is called.
Jazz has long legs. He likes to run. He runs over the hill. We don’t know where he is. Rabbits and hares know where he is. They like to run too but not as fast. Rabbits and hares taste very nice.
Jazz has sharp claws. He likes to dig. He doesn’t know why he is digging. He never finds anything. He makes lots of deep holes in the cricket pitch. The park keeper gets angry.
Jazz loves crisps. He loves cheese and meat and shepherd’s pie and Bovril on toast. Jazz does not like dog food.
Jazz enjoys visiting his friend, Chuck.
Chuck is also a dog and a lurcher. They always play biteyface. Humans don’t play biteyface. They like playing cards and drinking alcohol.
Dogs and humans are best friends. Best friends don’t have to have everything in common.
We don’t think that you can say fairer than that. Thank you, Daryl, Jenny, Jazz and Chuck.
As to playing cards, regular followers of the old greydog himself on Facebook will have seen that dogs may not be immune. In the continuing saga of The Journal of J Linseed Grant, posted every few days, such depravity has arisen a number of times, eg.
From the journal of J Linseed Grant, 18th June: “Gambling is a curse on our household. Had to increase the allowance of the Dog that is born of Kangaroo. He lost everything in an extended evening of gin-rummy with the black dog and a passing badger. The badger was sick in the umbrella stand before it left. These animals are most vexatious.”
But the world of that noted recluse is perhaps not typical. Here’s a parting shot of our own real-life pups at their most companionable:
And that’s all we have time for today, as we are supposed to be writing and earning money. Ha ha. More dark fiction, horror, folklore, weird art and mad lurchers every couple of days. See you soon.
As far as the little green beasties, try Organic Neem Spray (Azmira Holistic Animal Care)..available on Amazon…I just spritz a little on my hands and run it through Rupert’s coat and no jumping or flying critters get on him ever.
I love your lurcher posts especially…hey, saw a new series on Amazon last night called Poldark and there’s a lurcher lying looking half-dead under a desk…perfect except I’ve never known a lurcher to not demand something soft to sleep on.
Thank you – for the compliment and for the Neem suggestion. We have lime trees all around us, and they are totally covered in greenfly, most of which seem to drop on Django. 🙂
The elm trees just next to the back door where I let Rupert out to potty are also covered with teeny, nasty little bugs. When I go out there to clean up his messes I get them in my hair, but Rupert is untouched as long as I wipe him down with the Neem every morning. I can’t seem to remember to spritz some on my own head though 😉