POWERSLIDE PARK- A MODERN PARABLE
A sad tale to tell, but one that must be told.
Powerslide Park is the place to be for thrill -seeking old dogs. Around the country, there are many waterslide parks; places where you can thrill seek by climbing high and then slide down the water-filled half pipe at speed. But for hard core watersliders that is not enough. And so Ben created Powerslide Park. with a waterslide boosted to high speeds by a high output pump. It became a very popular place and drew dogs of all breeds from all over the world.
And so, this is the story of Chops, a beefy British Bulldog that came to virtually live in powerslide park and began to think of the place as his own. From time to time ,amidst all the excitement, little fracas would evolve, but would usually settle down quickly after a few nips. However things have changed and Chops has gone a bit feral. Some think he is rabid. He now appears constantly aggressive. "Look at me, look at my size, look at my teeth you little poodles and run!" he said. And as well as growling constantly as well as dribbling, he has developed the bad habit of defaecating in other dogs kennels. Particularly in that of the slight and wiry Keshavian Terrier across the central pond. Why it is not certain. Certainly the reserved demeanour and analytical eyes unnerved Chops, and he was never quite sure if it was the Keshavian terrier that nipped at his heels when his back was turned. Something about him was at odds with Chops rambunctious and physical lifestyle.
But there was a change in Chops and the reason became apparent soon enough! You see Chops was in love with Portia, an exotic and sensuous Saluki. But poor old Chops owner could not afford the stud fee, and in quiet desperation Chops would stray off after dark and partake in dubious activities with a Griffon of ill-repute. And before long, the damage was done!
Chops had aquired an STI!!
It changed his life.
He had to get used to the hideousness now associated with his doghood.He now developed performance anxiety and wondered what the ....... would think of him. He tried everything and anything. First he added Ethanol to the ointment he applied to his donk. Then Methanol. Then other highly volitile substances. He started to get his performance assessed. Various graphs were created and sent around for analysis by "performance" gurus. Nothing was quite right. His big end was starting to crack and his (con) rod was getting fatigued! He knew he should have held out for Portia.
What to do??
His owner scanned the world for experts.
First they tried the famous Jim Key, a master of ancient Aztec rituals, utilizing vast quantities of tequila to induce a zen-like state of tranquility., but all poor old Chops got was a rotten head-ache and his own kennel filled with liquid poo.
Then they tried the middle-eastern mystic, the arab Biata. Biata used a concoction of secret herbs smoked through an opium pipe while reciting poems about zoophilia. It didn,t work either, only leaving chops more confused about his performance than ever before. Before he woke he even dreamt about the goddess Evo, such was his confused mind.
The last hope lay in the antipodes. Many rumours of a magical device that could centre the soul, demagnetize anger and engineer tranquility. It was rumoured to use a series of gyroscopic motors and produced a high pitched humming sound.
It was called the Bee Machine.
But was it real? It seemed too perfect, but rumours persisted and Chops had to try to find it .Legend held that it was secreted high in the Watagan Ranges, just a short trip from surfing Nirvana, Norah Head. And the stories were that the paths to the Bee Machine were steep and narrow, so narrow that it was impossible to turn your vehicle around at any stage. Many ruts, mud holes and small boulders littered the tracks to the high Watagans and the firm advice was that the return trip down the path was so treacherous that to ascend ,it was necessary to back your vehicle up the hill, to enable the trip down in a forward direction. Obviously reversing up a treacherous incline was exceedingly difficult and many techniques were suggested to master the reverse ascent. Some spoke of a steady throttle and no brakes, some suggested judicious application of the brakes at specific intervals, while others suggested it was impossible for mere mortals to master the necessary skills and that famous off-roaders Stoner, McCoy and Roberts would have the necessary skills. Such people were known as the "masters of backing it in" after people had observed their training runs for the reverse ascent up Mt Watagan.
Alas, once Chops reached Antipodea, far across the pond in powerslide park, he was not able to ascend the Watagans. The path was too steep and too treacherous for his owner to master. . And thus we have the ultimate catch-22, because part of the legend of the Bee Machine is that all will be revealed when you are under its aura, that is , the mastery of " backing it in" will be realised, but that without that knowledge the Bee Machine could not be visited.
Now all seemed lost. Ben was unhappy with Chops and was on the cusp of removing him from the park. It was then that I realised that I had to right a huge wrong, because I feel I was the person responsible for all of Chops current problems. It all goes back along way when I first met Chops, when he first appeared on my consult table as an adorable plump puppy. It was his first checkup and I had to give him a thorough going over. I examined his eyes, his ears, his sharp teeth. I ran my fingers all over him, checking for abnormallities. Then it was vaccination time. I got his owner to hold his head towards her and vaccinated him from behind. What a lovely little puppy...I could have vaccinated him again and again! But no, the microchip was next. It was a big needle, shiny, thick and very sharp. I grasped the skin over his shoulders and thrust it deep into his subcuticulraris. He squealed, and there was some blood., but then he was ok. What a good little puppy. I was quite distracted by this handsome little puppy and that was the problem. I was distracted and gave him the wrong vaccine! I gave a C5 and it should have been a C9, the one to protect against STI,s !!!!
So its my fault. Sorry Chops, one day you will no longer have an STI and things will look up. I too once had an STI but managed to eventually remove it from my system using Evolutionary medicine. You too will eventually be cured and there is good news, Ben will let you stay, but....................................................you have to get castrated!
Brilliant. Well done.
