" Nice Try, Karl Marx ....! "

And, if ye don't remember where That one comes from? Ye weren't watching the original run of Monty Python! It's been a personal catch phrase of mine for longer than I care to remember.

Anyway; That's what I was left saying to myself today. As I watched Chain Dog laying happily in her bed. Inside her cage. In my living room. I'd tried.

Rewind about a month or so ago now. Dean O' and I were just pulling into his yard when I said, " Ye know what you need? Ye need one of those long, thick bolts, with a good, solid ring at the end. Like we hang gates on. Mm. "

When, knowing me as he does now, Dean cautiously replied, " Uh huh. Why? ". I breezily continued; " So ye can cement it into the wall of ye shed there. And put Chain Dog on it. ".

Knowing Dean O' as I do now, I was quite satisfied to hear his response of, " Oh. ". That told me my idea hadn't landed on a sheet of armoured glass. I left it there. To settle.

Well, that was probably more like six weeks ago now. I've been insidiously working on Dean's mind ever since. Massaging it. Soothing it. Whispering to it. Nurturing the idea .....

And, last night, after he'd finished fitting my new kitchen sink unit and was ready to go home, I lightly suggested; " Why not take Chain Dog? ". And he did.

It wasn't without a hitch. Dean's a strong, young buck. Less than half my age and damn near twice my size. But he simply has no experience of 'real' Dogs. Thus, I noticed how Chain was easily able to yank him around ~ literally. She took me by surprise, in the early days. Had me clean off my feet and dragged me across half the compound, on my face! She's a tank alright!

But, it's all down to ye own stance and how ye move yeself. Reading the Dogs next idea before it becomes manifest. I could see I'd have to give Dean 'O some lessons there. For now though, I just picked her up and put her into the back of his van. With her bed and water bowl. It was the bed that did it. Once she saw that in there, she knew where to be. And off they went.

I figured Chain Dog needs a better life. A Life! Hell, she's in that damn cage, 24 / 7. I take her out to empty herself once a day. Less than ten minutes a day. Then it's, " In ye bed! ". And she bounces back into that damn cage, bum stump wagging. Happy as Larry. Crazy fuckin' Dog!

It's doing My head in. I figured it must be doing Her head in. So, I hatched plans to give her a better life. Two of them. One fell flat. Then I realised how well she might get on with Dean 'O.

He came up on Yahoo Instant Messenger Service last night. Said he was home and everything was fine. That meant he'd managed to get her out of the van and safely indoors ok. For the next hour or two he was showing as still on line. I tried to relax. Then he logged off and I had fond imaginings of where Chain Dog would decide to sleep that night. In her bed? Or in Dean's? What ever.

Today, I got up. Had a smoke and a cuppa. Opened my front door and let the Dogs rip. Just like that. I called them together and opened the gate. Off we went, for our daily stroll.

I felt born again. No chaining one Dog. Locking another in a room. Locking two in another room. Unlocking Chain's cage. Taking her out ~ mind the horses. The bird. The other Dog. Bringing her back in. Locking her cage. Giving her her treat. Listening to her explode as she knew I was going to release the other Dogs. Shutting the door on her. Unlocking the other door. Then the other. Calling the Dogs together. Opening the gate .....

We came back and le Ding rushed straight in here, looking for her. Empty cage. Door wide open. Dean 'O coming up on YIMS .....

She'd been trying to eat her way through his door. He didn't know what to do. Obviously, I told him to load her up and fetch her back. And, inside twenty minutes, there she was. Back in her bed. Inside her cage. In my living room.

There. That was her then. Fucking great huge snore / sigh of absolute contentment. FFS. She's home and happy again.

Dog's institutionalised. I know about this shit. I spent long enough in the nut house that I've experienced, first hand, how it gets to ye. As Bowie put it;

" I'd rather stay here, with all the Madmen,
Than perish with the Sad men roaming free.
And I'd rather play here, with all the Madmen.
For I'm quite content; They're all as sane as me! "

Remember that one? Check it out on the Tube.

Looks like she's staying. Her in her cage. Me in my daily cycle of wishing there was a life for either of us. But, ye see? I played it right. Dean 'O couldn't handle her. Now she's back here and safe. No way is this Dog ever disappearing into 'The System'. Last person who couldn't handle her sold her to someone else who couldn't handle her. And That person called me out to Shoot her!

Oh well. Time to get thinking, again. Maybe, if I can find a muzzle 'guaranteed not to come off' ~ like what they use when training Personal Protection Dogs ..... Build her a weather proof kennel ..... Chain line running between my two gates ..... Lock the others in here with me, few hours a day ~ as they normally are anyway ..........

Know what? I like the way I'm thinking ....!