kirstyhen
Well-Known Member
Otto recieved a framed version of this from my Dad as his Christmas present...
[ QUOTE ]
The Beaters Dog
Inevitably a spaniel. Springer or Cocker. And confused with it. The confusion runs thussish...............
"Listen, mate: you want me to hunt for pheasants. There are pheasants in this bramble bush. You know it and I know it. The pheasants certainly know it. So, if I go in this end, and I will - Id love to. I cant wait. I mean, did you ever see a more prickly and savage bramble bush? Stands to reason its stuffed with pheasants, right? So if I go in this end and scramble and squeeze through along the ditch underneath, all the pheasants, and there are pheasants in here, believe me, there are pheasants, I know, I can smell them from here, hordes of them, squadrons, mate, flotillas of pheasants, theyre all going to come flying out the other end, right? And you are going to be a fat lot of good standing there with your little stick, aintcha? On the other hand, experience dictates that if I rush in there, and I will, soon, now, almost immediately, if not sooner, instead and grab one by the arse and drag it back out here, - which is the object of the exercise, after all, right? Bird in hand better than two in bush, right? Fetch? Retrieve? That sort of thing? I know youre going to go peculiar about it. So the question is, boss, how come on any given day hunting pheasants is good and on most days bringing them back is better but on some days you get so aerated about the fact and go all squeaky? I mean, Im only asking? Forget it, Im going in. This is just too good to miss. Ill be back later. Probably. Maybe. Well talk. Later. Byeeee! Hello pheassie friends. Cmon boys. Papas home!"
Mad, of course. Whoever invented the term Barking mad probably owned a spaniel.
"Ooooh! Look! A freezing ditch with ice round the edges! Yeeeaahhhh! Look at me, dad! Look at me! Im swimming! Wait a second. Whats that? Hey, unless Im very much mistaken there could be a little phezzie wezzie holed up just under this bank. Hold the phone boss, Im definitely getting something down the old schnozzeroonie. Lookit. Just in....here! Goddim! Ell, ont ust and ere! ive us a and. Ive ot a right outhful ere! Ot a loody ell ou ean "Let go"? Are we unting loody pheasants or what? Oh, alright. There. What? Oh now youve changed your mind? Now you want the damn thing caught again? Well, catch it yourself, matey. Im off into these thorny bushes. When youve made up your mind whether you want these birds caught or not or just chased about or retrieved you give me a whistle. OH, HOW PERFECTLY FANTASTIC THERES SOMETHING IN HERE THATS BEEN DEAD FOR MONTHS!! Ill just have a quick roll and then you can have a whiff of it later when we get home and Ive warmed up a tad. Mumll just love that, dont you think? Can we go swimming again, dad? Can we? Can we? Can we? HARE!!!! MINE!!! Leave it to me!! Im on it!! OK. OK. OK. Not to chase the hares. Or the rabbits. OK. OK. I said OK. I forgot, right. Momentary lapse. OK? Dont go on so. OW!! WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT FOR? GO PICK ON SOMEONE YOUR OWN SIZE WHY DONT YOU! SORRYSORRYSORRYsorrysorrysorry! Hey! Will you just take a look down this pit? Brambles and an icy pond! Oh, can I go and take a look, dad? Can I? Can I? Wheeeee! PHEASANTS!!"
All day long. Day in, day out.
[/ QUOTE ]
It is copied from an article in the Shooting Gazette, so I am probably being very naughty in posting it
So apologies if I am! But I thought it was brilliant
[ QUOTE ]
The Beaters Dog
Inevitably a spaniel. Springer or Cocker. And confused with it. The confusion runs thussish...............
"Listen, mate: you want me to hunt for pheasants. There are pheasants in this bramble bush. You know it and I know it. The pheasants certainly know it. So, if I go in this end, and I will - Id love to. I cant wait. I mean, did you ever see a more prickly and savage bramble bush? Stands to reason its stuffed with pheasants, right? So if I go in this end and scramble and squeeze through along the ditch underneath, all the pheasants, and there are pheasants in here, believe me, there are pheasants, I know, I can smell them from here, hordes of them, squadrons, mate, flotillas of pheasants, theyre all going to come flying out the other end, right? And you are going to be a fat lot of good standing there with your little stick, aintcha? On the other hand, experience dictates that if I rush in there, and I will, soon, now, almost immediately, if not sooner, instead and grab one by the arse and drag it back out here, - which is the object of the exercise, after all, right? Bird in hand better than two in bush, right? Fetch? Retrieve? That sort of thing? I know youre going to go peculiar about it. So the question is, boss, how come on any given day hunting pheasants is good and on most days bringing them back is better but on some days you get so aerated about the fact and go all squeaky? I mean, Im only asking? Forget it, Im going in. This is just too good to miss. Ill be back later. Probably. Maybe. Well talk. Later. Byeeee! Hello pheassie friends. Cmon boys. Papas home!"
Mad, of course. Whoever invented the term Barking mad probably owned a spaniel.
"Ooooh! Look! A freezing ditch with ice round the edges! Yeeeaahhhh! Look at me, dad! Look at me! Im swimming! Wait a second. Whats that? Hey, unless Im very much mistaken there could be a little phezzie wezzie holed up just under this bank. Hold the phone boss, Im definitely getting something down the old schnozzeroonie. Lookit. Just in....here! Goddim! Ell, ont ust and ere! ive us a and. Ive ot a right outhful ere! Ot a loody ell ou ean "Let go"? Are we unting loody pheasants or what? Oh, alright. There. What? Oh now youve changed your mind? Now you want the damn thing caught again? Well, catch it yourself, matey. Im off into these thorny bushes. When youve made up your mind whether you want these birds caught or not or just chased about or retrieved you give me a whistle. OH, HOW PERFECTLY FANTASTIC THERES SOMETHING IN HERE THATS BEEN DEAD FOR MONTHS!! Ill just have a quick roll and then you can have a whiff of it later when we get home and Ive warmed up a tad. Mumll just love that, dont you think? Can we go swimming again, dad? Can we? Can we? Can we? HARE!!!! MINE!!! Leave it to me!! Im on it!! OK. OK. OK. Not to chase the hares. Or the rabbits. OK. OK. I said OK. I forgot, right. Momentary lapse. OK? Dont go on so. OW!! WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT FOR? GO PICK ON SOMEONE YOUR OWN SIZE WHY DONT YOU! SORRYSORRYSORRYsorrysorrysorry! Hey! Will you just take a look down this pit? Brambles and an icy pond! Oh, can I go and take a look, dad? Can I? Can I? Wheeeee! PHEASANTS!!"
All day long. Day in, day out.
[/ QUOTE ]
It is copied from an article in the Shooting Gazette, so I am probably being very naughty in posting it
