They say a nod is a good as a wink to a blind horse*. That’s a fact. They also say dog is man’s best friend**. Now that’s an opinion, and it may not surprise you to know that I have an opinion on the subject as well.
The missus has a squirrel sized canine and I get stuck taking the buffalo breathed little ankle humper for a walk most nights. Often it is in the 8th inning or during a playoff overtime game 7, or when I am halfway through a pint. So I am hoping for a quick piss and a crap (the dog, not me) so I can return to the game before it ends, or to my pint, or any more fruitful pursuit like fishing or reading a Canadian Tire catalogue, anything other than taking the dog for a walk.
As we go up the stairs it trips on the last step, then with an accusatory look implies that her short-shanked step stumble was my fault. At the fork in the lane I want to go one way and the mutt wants to go the other, and she just parks herself and so begins a battle of wills. Since I need to save all my battle of will strength for the home-front and my dealings with the Department of Morality (the missus), I usually cave and basically the dog is taking me for a walk.
She sniffs, inspects, turns, spins, squats then changes her mind at least 6 times on a good night about the suitability of where she wants to plant a stool or water a toadstool, and in general delays the inevitable and the main purpose of our walk, much to my frustration and chagrin. Although she has trouble finding the perfect spot to squat, a squadron of mosquitoes have no trouble whatsoever in finding me and are coordinating a bloodthirsty (literally) attack and I am busy swatting and there is still no squatting. Finally, down the lane, directly in front of a sign that says “No Dumping” it hunches up and pinches a tootsie roll size loaf. Either the dog is illiterate or actively seeks to defy authority. I suspect both.
When I get back the game is over, my brew is warm, and the dog gets hearty congratulations from the missus and a treat for carrying out the most basic of bodily functions.
I am firmly convinced that beer is man’s best friend, dogs don’t even come a close second.
*Editor’s Comment: This phrase is actually an idiom which infers that in this case neither a nod nor a wink has any purpose, both being equally pointless, as the person in question may be set in their ways, a know-it-all or unwilling to listen to reason or the opinions of others. Ironically this sounds like a cranky old man I know. Although perhaps the idiom is used incorrectly here, it is correct to say that this is indeed a fact.
“A Nod’s As Good As a Wink… to a Blind Horse” is also the third album by British rock group Faces. It was released in 1971 and contains their biggest hit “Stay with Me”.
**Editor’s Comment: “Outside of a dog, a book is a man’s best friend. Inside of a dog it’s too dark to read.” Groucho Marx
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