A couple I was having breakfast with recently were describing how she had been nearly knocked-out by their dog. Apparently it’s a bit of an excitable thing, with a lot of legs and the ability to accelerate from a standing start and into your head in 5.1 nano-seconds. (She was bent over making the bed at the time, so at least she had somewhere nice to pass out.)
She kept on talking about the arrival of the animal as a bit of a surprise - As though they went downstairs one day and there the thing was under the Christmas tree. I asked about this, which resulted in one of the best sentences I have ever heard.
“Well, he thought it was a good idea. I sent him out to buy parsley and he came home with a book about whippets and a hat.”
His rebuttal has the tone of a man who is tired of having to justify the totally logical explanation.
“It’s not often you see a book about whippets!”
This is apparently enough to swing the family on the idea and they end up with one of these daft creatures. The hat is never explained.
Everyone around the table thought this was utterly brilliant. They kept on going with other problems that the animal presents. You can’t catch the whippet to discipline it. It has so much leg you can’t push it through a door if it doesn’t want to go, and my favourite sentence of the morning.
“It’s no fun, you know, a carsick whippet.”
Carsick Whippet. Say it out loud and you’ll wish you’d named your first high-school garage band ‘Carsick Whippet’.
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