The Story of Bluey – the retired cattle dog

Welcome to the Greypath National Seniors Website Forums Jokes The Story of Bluey – the retired cattle dog

This topic contains 4 replies, has 4 voices, and was last updated by  williamthebold 1 month, 3 weeks ago. This post has been viewed 127 times

Viewing 5 posts - 1 through 5 (of 5 total)
  • Author
    Posts
  • #82709
    Jen
    Jen
    Participant

    We pensioned off old Blue the dog
    when old age got him down
    We sent him for company
    to old Grandma in the town

    But while Granny was elated
    Blue still craved the great out doors
    and he would roam the town exploring
    while old granny did the chores

    So it was this sunday morning
    Blue was fossicking about
    through the paddocks near the township
    on his normal daily scout

    When a canine gourmet odour
    overpowered his sense of smell
    though his eyesight had diminished
    his old sniffer still worked well

    and the sense of his excitement
    was reposed down by the creek
    where a sheep had met his maker
    for the best part of a week

    For its woolly corpse was spreading
    and the air was far from fresh
    from this rancid flyblown carcass
    with its seething greenish flesh

    It was a dogs idea of heaven
    and old Blue, he rubbed and rolled
    till he ponged just like the sheep did
    and with ecstasy extolled

    Then an idea formed within him
    as he gave a gentle tug
    and he found the carcass followed
    like a matted lumpy rug

    He would take it home for later
    it should last a week or two
    if he stored it in his kennel
    he could keep his prize from view

    So he gripped the carcass firmly
    proudly into town he went
    but his load proved fairly heavy
    and old Blues energy soon spent

    And the only shade on offer
    was the building with the bell
    and he dragged his prize towards
    with its flies and feral smell

    Then the dog and sheep both rested
    in the front porch of the church
    old Blue looked up the gangway
    at the parson on his perch

    He was revving up the faithful
    to repent to save their worth
    and said satan was the culprit
    for all the rotten things on earth

    And he roared of fire and brimstone
    and redemption for the throng
    up the aisle came satans presence
    in this godforsaken pong

    And they all cried “Hallelujah”
    and they fell as one to pray
    but by now old Blue was rested
    and he hadn’t time to stay

    He proceeded up the roadway
    with the woolly corpse in tow
    with a shortcut through the nursing home
    the quickest way to go

    Where the matron, in a panic
    counted heads in mortal fright
    with a smell like that they’d surely lost
    a patient through the night

    And the members at the bowls club
    lowered all their flags half mast
    doffed their hats in silence
    for the funeral going past

    But old Blue lugged his prize on homewards
    travelling past the bowling club
    till he took a breather under
    the verandah of the pub

    There old boozing Bill was resting
    sleeping off the night before
    to wait the sunday session
    when they opened up the door

    When the stench awoke his slumber
    which was highly on the nose
    and he thought his pickled body
    had begun to decompose

    And he missed the Sunday session
    when he ran home to his wife
    to proclaim the shock announcement
    he was off the booze for life

    Meanwhile Blue could see Gran’s gateway
    at the far end of the street
    so he started up the pavement
    with his ripe and tasty treat

    But there was movement in the backstreets
    as the town dogs sniffed in deep
    they broke chains and climbed high fences
    for a piece of Blue’s dead sheep

    And Blue felt the road vibrating
    from the stamp of canine feet
    as this pack of thirty mongrels
    came advancing up the street

    But he wasn’t into sharing
    so he sought a quick escape
    and he spied a nearby building
    with a door that stood agape

    Through this door he sought asylum
    but his presence caused a shriek
    for he’d chosen the local deli
    that was run by Nick the greek

    And Blue shot beneath a table
    where the sheep and he could hide
    but the dog pack was relentless
    and they followed him inside

    Now the table Blue had chosen
    was a double booked mistake
    with the law enforcement sergeant
    sipping coffee on his break

    And the sergeant sat bolt upright
    with a dog between his feet
    and his eyes began to water
    from the dead decaying meat

    Then the sarge leapt up in horror
    but in his haste he slipped and fell
    falling down amongst Blue’s mutton
    with it’s all embracing smell

    And he lay somewhat bewildered
    in the gore, flat on his back
    when the mongrel pack descended
    in a frenzied dog attack

    With first thought self- preservation
    from the rows of teeth he faced
    the sarge fumbled for his pistol
    in it’s holster at his waist

    There were muffled bangs and yelping
    as random shots rang out
    and the whine of bouncing bullets
    off the brickwork all about

    As he blasted in a panic
    from beneath the blood and gore
    a front window and the drink fridge
    were both added to the score

    And the cappuccino maker
    copped a mortal wound and died
    hissing steam, it levitated
    falling frothing on it’s side

    And Nick the greek, the owner
    grabbed a shotgun in his fright
    blasting into the confusion
    of the frantic canine fight

    At short range it wasn’t pretty
    dogs were plastered on the wall
    there was laminex in splinters
    clouds of dog hair covered all

    Then the smoke detector whistled
    with the gunsmoke in the air
    which set off the sprinkler system
    and a siren gave a blare

    And the echoes still were ringing
    when beneath the dying heap
    there emerged old Blue, still dragging
    at the remnants of his sheep

    It’s head was gone and several legs
    but it hadn’t lost it’s smell
    in the armistice that followed
    Blue decided not to dwell

    He leapt the fence at Grandma’s
    for his feet had sprouted wings
    pure adrenalin propelled him
    fleeing dogs and guns and things

    Now old Gran had influenza
    and had lost her sense of smell
    with Blues sheep in the garden
    that was probably just as well

    And she looked out from her front fence
    at the town in disarray
    at the ambulance, police cars
    and the RSPCA as well

    Then the fire brigade rushed past her
    flashing lights of rosy hue
    and she hugged the old dog tightly
    he’d protect her would old Blue

    You just stay here like a good dog
    Grandma told him with a frown
    ” ’cause you’ve no idea the trouble
    you can get into in town”

    #82710
    Tulip
    Tulip
    Participant

    Hilarious thank you Jen!

    #82717

    williamthebold
    Participant

    Goodness gracious me as my grandmother would have said.
    I don’t think she would exactly approve, but never mind.
    It is a story worthy of remembrance.
    It has just the right ‘flavour’.
    Thank you Jen.

    #82722
    abirdo
    abirdo
    Participant

    Yes definitely worthy of Banjo!

    #82723

    williamthebold
    Participant

    One cannot help but be enamoured of old blue.

Viewing 5 posts - 1 through 5 (of 5 total)

You must be logged in to reply to this topic.

WordPress theme: Kippis 1.15