Lighten Up: Balls to bad reception
Poor Rover, he had fun things removed from one end and a funnel attached to the other.
Last week, I was forced to put the squeeze on my poor dog, Rover.
My mischievous mutt had started to stray, so a stop needed to be put to his gallop.
It happens to us all eventually.
Every male, dog or man, will need to be corralled at some point.
For Rover, this was achieved with a quick visit to the vet.
Now, I will not delve into the neutering process here for fear of offending more refined and sheltered readers but suffice to say, his balls got the road, and now, hopefully, my wild Rover will ramble no more.
The dastardly deed was performed by the vet with great care, and Rover was returned to me wearing a strange apparatus around his neck.
It was a dog collar, the likes of which I had never seen before.
Cylindrical by design and similar, I suppose, to a lampshade, the cone was fitted to Rover's neck with a warning from the vet that it not be removed for two weeks.
Poor Rover, he had fun things removed from one end and a funnel attached to the other.
He didn't know where to turn.
After a short spell, Rover got used to the lampshade surrounding his head and, within a few days, was happily trotting after me again.
The cone didn't hinder his travel, indeed it was to become something very beneficial.
On Thursday evening at about quarter to five, as I was busily repairing an old fence, something bizarre happened. My phone started to ring.
Now, this was strange, for I rarely get calls, as I live in a neck of the woods where the reception is close to zero.
Nobody ever calls me, for I am uncontactable and generally out of reach.
Like some kind of signal booster, Rover's cone seemed to be encouraging the reception.
And better was to come when I returned home and sat myself down by the fire and turned on the TV.
I discovered that the TV reception also improved when Rover sat by my legs.
No longer was I forced to watch Dáithà and Maura dancing up and down on the screen, their show came through loud and clear.
With Rover at my feet and the cone attached to his head, the picture was as sharp as a sheep shears.
And even better again was to come once nightfall came down and Rover went outside to howl at the moon. The TV channels then started swooping in from all corners.
I was watching a saucy Italian film one minute and some class of a rodeo the next.
I was spoilt for choice as channels came racing in from across the globe and beyond; my gaze became transfixed to the screen like never before.
It was the strangest of occurrences, for as long as Rover kept howling at the moon, the good times lasted.
He was like a satellite dish on four legs.
For when the cone is gone, my reception will no doubt go with it.
I suppose I could try wearing the cone myself in the hope of improving the signal, and indeed, at the end of the day, there might be great merit in me following Rover's lead.
