Füsti: the night after CT – footnote from Meggyes:)
All right, basically, I like Füsti very much. Moreover, he is in my Top Three list at the moment. But, it was not that way last night. I had bad thoughts about him. I arrived home at 11:30pm. I said to myself: “poor doggie, do not let him sleep in the car, I’ll take him into the house since he knows most of my dogs. In spite of not being in good terms with KicsiKongo, there will not be any problems.”
But Füsti’s first thing to do was to start bullying KicsiKongo as dazedly as he was (anyway, KicsiKongo is a 50-kg Ridgeback male dog). Kongo was a good boy, although he was at home he did not slice the 18-kg Füsti. Kongo concluded that all right, he had nothing to do with that itsy-bitsy doggie, so he left him alone.
Füsti became so mad about that He followed Kongo everywhere, complaining and tweeting and cursing his mom because he wanted to play that game there, at once, and wanted to decide who the bigger male dog was.
(Let me tell you here that this “who is the bigger male?”- game is a little bit boring. They had started it in the animal Shelter in the traditional way: “who can pee higher?”. And I am still talking about a 50-kg Ridgeback and an 18-kg teeny-weeny doggie. Füsti had lost; his front legs had been full of pee. But he is a bad loser.)
All in all, Füsti wanted to fight. At all costs. Immediately.
Kongo is a very loyal dog, he accepts clumsiness and told Füsti: “I do not fight, look at yourself, dude, you are klutzy!”
Of course, Füsti became pissed off at once:”I am not klutzy!” – he shrieked and wanted revenge. Those who saw Monty Python and the Holy Grail can imagine the situation. The Black Knight. You got it? Their relationship was like that.
A Fekete lovag
Finally, Füsti got a principal warning from me and we went to sleep. This was not easy either. I was struggling until three o’clock in the morning. It turned out soon that sleeping would not be problem if I did not move and did not make any noise with breathing. When it happened in the other way, Füsti pushed himself up and started to tweet at once: “I am here, I am here, what are we going to do next? I am coming as well. Where are we going? What are we doing next? I am also here.”
I got bored of that at three o’clock so I took him down into the car. The original plan had been that he would sleep in the car, so I had taken his basket, his blanket to make it absolutely comfortable.
I was sleepless until half past three, feeling guilty. I saw that poor, little, handicapped dog in my mind’s eyes as he was sitting in the car, feeling lonely, pressing his tearful face to the back window of the car.
So I went down at half past three and he was sleeping on his back. So it was a bad idea to wake him up but – as I have said – I felt guilty.
I was suffering until four o’clock, because it was very difficult to sleep without moving.
But I had enough at four o’clock and I told Füsti: “It is o.k. to live somehow with two legs but without any legs, life will not be that happy, I am damned sure about it. And you can take it for granted that if I hear one more yelp, awful things will happen.”
We were all fast asleep at quarter past four, but we were woken up by the clock at half past six to the happiness of Füsti.
I think I still like that doggie.
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