Otherwise known as
never volunteer your husband for the BBQ
Let me set the scene for you.
It’s Sunday. Nippers day. We are at the front beach – it’s calm, somewhat warm and the excited voices of Nippers can be heard.
Wilbur is getting his BBQ on. He has volunteered to run the post-Nipper session BBQ this season. He is in his element. Sausages, gas bottles, BBQs. Need I say more. That man has a BBQ affinity like no other.
I am in the water, resplendent in fluoro orange top. Water safety (only where there are no waves) extraordinnaire. It’s a little like herding wet kittens. I am busy. There are lives in my hands.
Wilbur gesticulates from the shore, and I leave my post thinking something must be (150m away) awry. Maybe he’s out of gas (surely not – a man with ten gas bottles cannot ‘run out’). Maybe Milla has impaled herself – so demanding were his arm movements.
“You want one?”, I hear.
Huh. No. I do not want a sausage thankyouverymuch.
He continues to gesticulate, so I advance. Sighing.
I get closer.
“You want one?”
I nod YES resignedly. So caring of him to want to give me a snag in bread.
Then I get closer and realise what I actually agreed to.
“You want a dog?”
Lucky I didn’t say “yes please – I’ll have two”.
Yep. My husband met a man on a beach, fell in love with a puppy and promptly named him Bruce (actually – I named him – that was the condition).
The word spread like wildfire.
“What?! – Wilbur got a dog from a man on the beach!”
“Hey Kyles – I hear Wilbur got a dog from some
bloke on the beach”.
And so on.
So. Meet Bruce-bean the American bulldog.
Wilbur went home and researched him. It seems he is now the proud owner of the male dog version of his daughters –
Emotionally fragile. Needs good strong pack leader. Needs stimulation or will lie around indoors bored
playing onchewing iDevicesMay jump high fences. Needs constant activity or will nag you for attention.
Keep up with me here @brucebeanthebulldog!