Posts tagged ‘pets’

November 19, 2013

dead dogs

Today, the last of the Zaltzman dogs died.

The first of the Zaltzman dogs died early in the morning on 13th November 1997 (yes, I remember the date, shuddup). All over the lawn there were dark patches in the grey frost, one for each time she had lain down to die. And each time my mother had brought her inside, anxious to keep her alive through the night lest we thought she’d deliberately killed the dog whilst we slept.

The vet committed the final dispatch, invoiced for the service with dispassionate efficiency, and I went to work.

“I’ve buried both of my parents,” said one of the customers, “but you never get over a dog.” He was a retired policeman and WW2 POW, so he’d seen some things; but you never get over a dog.

Later that day my boyfriend was punched in the face and mugged, but everyone continued to be more concerned about the dog.

The second of the Zaltzman dogs died in January 2002 while I was away at university. To raise my spirits, I bought the best sandwich from the best sandwich shop and took it to the best bench in the best park.

An alive dog approached.
It gently lifted the sandwich from my hands.
It jogged off with my sandwich.


Today, the third Zaltzman dog died after living far longer than expected. For a long time my parents have insisted that she will be the last Zaltzman dog. They want the freedom to travel, they say, but I wonder whether it’s just too much of a risk to allow that emotional attachment again when every 12-15 years the dog dies.

Perhaps they will waver, because for the first time since 1984 there won’t be a dark furry shape standing blocking the television screen, standing in the doorway refusing to budge, standing under the dining table waiting for food to fall. There’ll be no reason to do a lap of the garden in the midnight rain, waiting for the dog to urinate; nor to maintain a collection of chewed tennis balls on the living room floor. Nobody will headbutt the newspaper I’m reading to get attention; nobody will hide cushions in the garden; nobody will continue digging the mysterious pit in the flowerbed by the front door; nobody will fart on my hand while I try to prune the dreadlocks from their back legs (add ‘hopefully’ to all these, because I can’t predict what turns life will take). There’ll be no benign snuffling presence allowing me to pretend that I’m not alone in the room, because today the last of the Zaltzman dogs died.

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October 26, 2012

Readable music videos: The Wanted

I watched the video of ‘I Found You’ by The Wanted so you don’t have to.

Before you read this post, seek the advice of your parents, because:

However, this is the real warning sign:

There’s a director credit, and some unnecessary aspect ratio bars at the top and bottom. Which means that you need to strap in, because this is aspiring to be arty.

Meet The Wanted.

From left to right: The Bouncer, The Farmer, The Preteen Sensation, The Tall One and Inspector Clouseau.

Since their last single, The Wanted gained a sixth member:

Chicks can’t resist the puppy eyes.

The Wanted are taking the dog for a walk. Dogs require regular walkies, hence The Wanted spend much of this video walking.

See Spot run. See The Wanted walk.

The Wanted stroll to a bar for refreshment. The Preteen Sensation stays outside with a packet of peanuts, because he won’t be able to get served for at least another eight years. Meanwhile, the rest of The Wanted make eyes at somebody across the crowded room.

They are truly enraptured, but by whom?

Ryan Gosling!

“Hey girl…oh, sorry Siva.”

Too bad the ukulele romance will have to wait, because The Wanted have got a job to do and they need to do it now, because if The Preteen Sensation doesn’t get home by 6pm, his mum won’t allow him to have any Frubes for pudding.

I’ve never seen a dog’s bum look less impressed. If you need a door broken down…don’t ask a boyband to do it.

Anyway, remember the pretty gagged blonde lady? Here are two of her extremities:

She put on that duct tape because she heard it gets rid of verrucas. Then it slipped up her feet and now her legs are incapacitated; what a fine mess she got herself into! Thank Christ there’s a boyband on the way to sort it all out.

The Wanted have their duffing-up faces on

and are about to have a big old fight on the stairs. This is what a Wanted fight looks like:

You should have seen the other guy!

Punches are punched. Shoves are shoved. Men fly. Glasses shatter. DVDs are put back on the shelf out of alphabetical order.


Despite her plight, the bound blonde seems entertained by the spectacle of The Wanted beating up the men, because frankly 80% of the Wanted look like they couldn’t even beat up a meringue.

“And then I ripped off his leg and beat him to death with it.”

Against all odds, The Wanted have won the day, and found the lady! They send in The Preteen Sensation to rescue her, because the rest of the band are busy with grown-up things like tax returns and whisky-tasting.

She’s looking forward to having the circulation restored to her feet, but The Preteen Sensation has other ideas.

“Please miss, give us a snog!”
“Ugh, no – your breath smells of Dora The Explorer toothpaste.”

Now we learn that we should not have been fooled by this innocent child face, for it belies a wiley scheme! Having distracted the still-bound blonde with his juvenile osculations, from somewhere upon her body, he extracts a tiny key. And with that, it’s goodbye to the lady – losers weepers!

He’s got the key! He’s got the secre-eh-eh-et! He’s got the key to a…

…box that The Wanted drag up from the river.

Betcha wish you were that padlock, eh girls?