What do dogs know that we don’t?
Spend any time with a dog, as I sometimes am privileged to do, and it’s immediately clear that there is some deeper mystery behind their eyes. There’s something else going on that you just can’t quite name.
Kev used to say the same, I’m sure: after a long day grooming one poodle after another, looking into those glassy eyes at the ever-present enigma of the dog conspiracy would wear him down, piece by piece, paw manicure by paw manicure, and he’d return home a shadow of himself to drink himself to sleep.
I think I’ve found a clue. A few days ago I met Digby while I was heading to the shops. Digby is a small dog. Digby was friendly enough, and he was also wearing a striking fluorescent waistcoat that said “follow me for English Wine”.
I feel like Digby’s indiscreet attire might give us all a clue about what exactly dogs are up to.
Are they operating vineyards? Do they press grapes when nobody is looking? Are they all perhaps members of elite wine clubs, secretly laughing at the unbelievable tastelessness of their owners who they see pairing a Beaujolais with fish? Or perhaps they are ruthless sales hounds, hustling for money here and there, tirelessly shifting units to make a secret doggy living?
Digby went in to a sort of shed, and I didn’t want any English Wine, so I didn’t follow him. I suppose that means we’ll never know.
8 comments on “English Wine”
I don’t know a lot about wine but what little I do know is that good wine doesn’t come from England. Digby is therefore a criminal luring in unsuspecting wine-rs to their doom.
He is rather cute though.
Based on that analysis, would you rather jail him for his many crimes, or give him a scritch-scratch behind the ears for his cuteness?
I would hit the scritch-scratch button because there are worse criminals out there. He’s one of those cheery criminals who steals your wallet and you still root for him because he’s charming. A gentleman thief.
Quite right. A gentleman thief sums it up. How bad can anyone be if their name is Digby? No, the fact is that if you’re a bit posh and your name is Digby you can basically get away with anything. And rightly so.
Wasn’t Digby also the biggest dog in the world like in that film, or ‘Igby he iggest og n he orld’ as Kev and I used to “hilariously” call it?
I don’t know, because I’ve never watched any films. Did Igby wear a giant fluorescent tabard and promote drinks made in places badly suited to their production?
I don’t believe I’ve ever seen the film either. It’s about a giant dog who’s called Digby and doesn’t go around mauling people and shitting on churches because it’s a Disney movie.
Maybe, when things settle down again, we can huddle round a TV and watch it like the time we all glimpsed the utter madness that is ‘Bula Quo’.
I think we should. That or any of the films in the Air Bud franchise in which a golden retriever learns how to play various sports.