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Date Posted: Sun, 10/19/03 2:17pm
Author: Ylva
Subject: "Linguistic action thriller" - Part II, without shades

(From the "New member??-thread" started on October the 4th)

[Ylva]: You'll never
>know when such a word might get you out of a tricky
>situation; for instance if you have to say: "My name
>is Modem - Mr. Modem, agent for peace
>and tolerance". Then, if you're able to puzzle and
>impress an opponent with an exotic word like "auweia",
>you're the winner. See you later alligator :o)

[john mohdom:] I immediately see the possibilities... my name is Mr. mohdom, don't give me any grief because "auweia" lot more than you and can squash you like a spiritless bug. 80)

Uh oh... *ducks and tiptoes out of reach*

Ok, Mohdom - Mister Mohdom (perfect alliteration, btw) - I'll knock that modem-thingy off. I know you're much older and much more experienced than I, and I see you're more patient too, so sometimes I provoke you - just a wee bit - on purpose to see what happens. It's pretty nice of an "old dog" to let a "young dog" try some of its capabilities on him without biting far too soon. You see, if I don't "wrestle" certain people stronger and bigger than myself verbally, I learn less; it's a kind of training. And testing the limits... learning to develop a good feeling for when it's about to become enough. So peace, peas, piece :o) please.

Association: The true story of an old black Labrador doglady by the name of Happy.

Happy was the pet of my parents' neighbours for many many years. She lived up to her name; was a peaceful and friendly dog. Everybody liked her, so she could walk about in the neighbourhood alone any time, patrol the streets to check out everything's alright. At times, Happy's walks led between the houses on narrow pathways. Some people had no fence to mark their property, but Happy knew where to walk: on the paths only.

One day, this fenceless family had become temporary dogsitters for some friends who went away on vacation and couldn't take their dog with them. Don't know what kind of dog it was; a quite small "ball of cotton waste", as some say when they see a 4-legged indefinable animal of fluffy fur with ears sticking out marking the front end. The front end of the specimen in question also included a mouth that managed to bark as much and loudly (at all and nothing) as the dog was small, i.e. very.

So when big old Happy peacefully patrolled the neighbourhood as usual, the frantic yapping of the dogsat Cotton Waste Ball started each time she walked by at the property without fence. A couple of times Happy just ignored the other dog. Other times she just stopped and looked down at the fierceful and noisy little fur ball bouncing around her.

But one day Happy had had enough. After she'd been barked at thoroughly for the umpteenth time, she grabbed the yappy little dog by one of its hind legs and shook it by swinging her head fast and roughly to the left and to the right, the little dog dangling like a rag doll. Not for long, just a few seconds, but she worked effectively and with precision. You could tell she was careful though she was angry - if she'd really wanted to hurt the smaller dog badly, she could easily have bitten the little leg off.

So, this story ends as follows: The ever barking dog started barking less, 'cause it had to go see the vet down town and get a big disturbing bandage on its hurt hind leg. In addition, it got a not so fancylooking lampshade attached around its neck to prevent it from reaching back and tearing the bandage off the hind leg with its ultrasharp little piranhateeth, making the head look like a bulb. In spite of the fact that "the bulb" couldn't shine, we may hope that the doggy did have some sort of enlightenment in The End.

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