Monday, 19 March 2007

Ingredients for 'Psičková'

We were reminded of the pleasure one derives from man’s best friend at the weekend when carrying out the usual Sunday afternoon chores on the back section. Having been pleasantly lulled into a sense of manifest equilibrium by the drone of the lawnmower and the narcotic effect of the two-stroke petrol fumes, I lazily opened up the catcher to clear out a persistent blockage only to be greeted with a heavy wet thwack square on the forehead by a clod of moist grass and pureed dog turd. Such fond memories are made of these when faced with the ownership of possibly the most cognitively-challenged of all canine breeds – the jezevčik. This subject and top picture in particular will bring back some intensely fond memories for Bedrich; it's the only one I could rummage up of everyone's favourite occasional canine resident at Budova 'A' for a few months back in 1995, and....whoa! hang on there Bedrich! I haven't finished this post and already you've bolted out of the commenter's gate. I've told you about those premature problems before. Wipe yourself down and come back a bit later when we're ready for guests.

As I was saying, this lovely picture above features the Kivaci circa 1995, although missus kivak comes in a slightly different form these days. But Bedrich is quite right, the adorable badger hunter is none other than Kiri; named after a certain opera singer of native Aotearoan origins, although better known in CZ as the brand for 'Joyful Cow' cheese. Purchased for a mere 600kc, which actually represented the entire extent of my weekly income in those days. Half a kilo of sausages would have been a lot more cost-effective and value-added, and would assuredly have been less troublesome. She certainly had a perchant for heavy and expensive leather jackets imported from Scotland, especially when left to her own devices on the fourth floor (or was that third floor?) of Budova 'A' - when she could be smuggled past the concierge without yapping her head off that is.

One memorable occasion I took her to Budova 'H' and left her in my office while we propped up the bar at Sklipek or Cerny kun or Fortuna or Neptune or wherever, only to return to wall-to-wall Dachshund turd. I thought I'd scraped up every last little excreted šišek and freshened up the room with a powerful dose of Glade lavender toilet air freshener, only to find a note the following morning from the very proper elderly teacher that I shared the office with asking if I could possibly remove the dog feces smeared across her class register on her desk. Ah, such a sweet-hearted creature. And of course I was a model dog owner...I think we eventually turned her over to a butcher (that's a true fact).

And this is why of course that I now own another Dachshund, because what re-created Czech home-away-from-home would be complete without one, huh? And here he is: Petr the New Zealand-born jezevcik who only answers to Czech commands. But don't worry: if you thought you'd never get to meet him, don't be disillusioned - the missus insists he and his mate, Lida, will be coming with us next year. Just as well we've got a Chocolate Labrador lined up as their best mate, and owners of said Lab who will be more than willing to dog-sit.


Anonymous said...

That mut.

Kiri, wasn't it? The brand of soft cheese. Two weeks in the fridge and being thinly spread on a toast would have been too good for her.

Not one for the usual,'sit, come and fetch' routine, Kiri had a more impressive range of tricks. Eating my leather jacket was one of her favourites.

Another was shiting all over the flat before standing in the shite and then playing a canine version of pinball in our hall, where she was the ball and points were accumulated by getting the shite onto as many of my things as possible. Bitch.

Get a real dog. Black labs. For men. Grrrrrrrr.

tvc said...

Hear, hear.