Thursdays With Uncle Boom #16

I was a little disappointed to find on my return from the big smoke last week that my hunting dog, Jeffrey, had died.

I decided I had better get a new one.

Myself and Bradley Funterman, a long standing trader friend headed out to the local dog breeders. He is a fine fellow old Bradders, despite having a face like a diseased udder.

We stood outside the breeders. The place stank of dogs and poverty. Although it was hard to tell where one began and another ended. Bradders held a scented hankerchief under his nose. I looked a little closer.

Bradders, are those ladies nether garments?

Oh. Ahem. Oops.

He stuffed the 'hankerchief' back in a pocket.

I offered Bradders a swig from my hip flask then took a hearty few myself before we lit our pipes to puff away the stench of the downtrodden with our sweet smoke. Now we could enter.

It was dim inside the kennels, there were dirty drapes over the windows. A grubby sort of fellow came rushing over to greet us.

Why is it so bloody dark?

I barked.

Sorry milord. One of the bitches is whelping, the dark keeps em calm.

Bradders looked around and laughed.

Need to remember that next time I am fighting the bearded salamander eh!...

I took a puff of my pipe and nodded sagely in agreement. Oh well, the sooner we get this over with the sooner we can leave this grubby den of despair.

Show us what you have got fellow and don't just show us any old mutt.

The dog man nodded in aquiescence and led us through to the back room. There was a selection of dogs in pens. We stopped at the first one. It was a proud looking beast, silver-grey and strong of limb. It had sorrowful eyes though. I can't abide a sorrowful eye.

Nope, next.

The next was a chocolate-brown gun dog. An excitable pup, it leapt up and down when it saw us. Hmm, this one had potential.

Look at the wanger on it! I think its getting a stiffy!

Shouted Bradders pointing at its ham cannon.

Oh he likes you Boomy!

I snorted in disdain and moved on, a gentleman's dog is an extension of the man himself and you didn't see me getting my red swan out at the dinner table.

The dog in the last pen looked at us with a mournful face, like my erstwhile wife. That wouldn't do at all.

Is that it?

I enquired somewhat irritably of the dog man.

I am afraid so sir, no more dogs at the moment. I can keep an eye out for you if anything comes up?

I nodded grumpily. Damn it all. I spun on my heel to leave and stopped dead in my tracks. I pointed to the end of the room.

What the hells man? Have you been bloody holding back on me?

The dog man looked at the corner where I pointed.

Sir? What do you mean?

That, that there! Look at the flanks on it. A fine looking beast. I will take it!

How dare you sir? That's not a dog, that's my wife!

Wife my arse, its a bloody dog. You are a devious one and no mistake.

Milord, let me open a curtain, you are mistaken, that's is most definitely my wife!

I strode over to the hound. It was indeed splendid. It yapped at me and bared its teeth as I approached. I admired its spirit.

I will give you two silvers for it.

My wife is not for sale! I am afraid I must ask you to leave.

I motioned to Bradders to give the man a thrashing. He took to the task with great gusto, his cane making big thwacking noises as he beat the dog man to the ground. After a couple of minutes, I bade him to stop and to take the hound out to the car.

I stepped over and threw a silver at the moaning dog man on the floor.

Make that one silver you insolent beggar. Count yourself lucky I didn't cut out your tongue.

Milord please, don't take her. What about the children, they needs their mam.

In a doorway leading to the house were a couple of scrawny looking pups, their cries sounding almost human.

Children? You mean the pups? Fine, we will take them also.

No milord... pleeeeease. You can't?

Shush, have some bloody dignity man.

I gave his head a hard whack with my cane and took the pups too.

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Later, I had the maid kennel the dogs and settled down to some supper. Ah, it was my favourite. Truffled Guinea pig. Delicious. Life was good at the moment. I savoured a brandy and fired up the pooter machine. What say you this week troubled steemians?

SpamFarmer1: Do you know about crypto trading?

Uncle Boom A little blunt. A hello would have been nice. But yes, yes I do.

SpamFarmer1: What is the best coin to buy?

Uncle Boom Hmm. A philosopher are we? Well that really depends. Are you looking for quick profit, anonymity or... Something else? Have you considered buying steem?

SpamFarmer1: now upvote my post please (shitcoin/shitpost link)

Uncle Boom What!?! You beckon me with your pouting lips and then you tell me you care not for the gentleman's relish? Begone you thief of time, before I take the rod to you!

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SpamFarmer2: read my post about the flag wars destroying steemit and how to fix it. (shitpost link)

Uncle Boom What the bloody McFuck? A) there isn't a flag war and B) Fuck off.

Well, as ever I am glad to have loaned a sympathetic ear to my fellows in need.

Remember. If you feel the need, you can find me on the steemit chats. Anonymity is assured, after all...