George Duffy is surprised to see me, to say the least, as I’ve never in my whole six years in Killarmon had occasion to knock his door.
“I have your dog, Georgie,” I inform him. “He seems to be rather taken with me for some reason.” He’s sitting on the doorstep staring up at me right now, fascinated to see what I’ll do next.
“Hey, I wondered where the little shite got off to, he’s been missing since dinnertime,” he says.
So I fill George in on the rather bizarre afternoon I’ve had with Dyke and he’s as puzzled as I am. And when he tries to call Dyke in the house he won’t come, Georgie has to actually pick him up and carry him in, snarling the whole time. Dyke, that is, not Georgie.
I think this is an end to it, so imagine my surprise the next morning when Dan comes back a minute after leaving for work and says to me, “There’s a present waitin’ for you outside.”
The little bastard is back out there, sitting by the front door. I try throwing a bowl of water on him, but all it does is make him wet.
“Please piss off Dyke!” He just looks at me. He doesn’t look annoyed that I drowned him, or even hurt. He just looks expectant, like he’s waiting for something in particular. And now that he’s wet he really stinks.
He follows myself and Beavis as we go for our morning walk (Beavis is terrified, just waiting for him to jump her), waits for me while I get ready for work and follows me there. I go in and he sets up watch by the front door, again. Another morning of explaining him to the customers and this time it is definitely not funny. At lunchtime I go across to the Anchor to find Georgie. Now I’m mad.
“He’s sitting there again, Georgie, can’t you do anything with him?”
“I tried to get him to come over here just now, but the little fucker went for me,” he says. “Just leave him and he’ll get fed up soon enough.”
This turns out not to be true, and for the next week and a half he follows me everywhere, sits in front of the laundry all day, sits in front of my house, and follows me down the street, in and out of the shops. Nothing we do will discourage him. George finally manages to grab him and put him in the house, but he starts to piss on everything and chew up the carpet so he puts him out again. I’m apparently stuck with him until he either goes off me or I kill him. The whole town is getting such a kick out of it, Samantha and her stalker dog.
This is the funniest thing to ever happen to Jimmy Duffy. He’s so delighted that Dyke isn’t parked in his sitting room chewing on his remote that he slags me without mercy. He and Robbie spot me walking across Main Street and he shouts at me, “Can’t you keep your dog out of the road, Samantha? Someone’s gonna call the dogcatcher on you!”
“Give him a wash too, why dontcha? I can smell him from here,” Robbie adds. I’d like to give him a bath- with a high powered riot hose. Blast the little fucker all the way to Wexford.
I go into the butcher’s to get my weekly order and the lads in there slag me too.
“What a sweet little babby you’ve got there Sam,” says Pascal. Dyke looks up at him and growls, as if he’s aware he’s being made fun of.
“Yeah, maybe you could dress him up in little dolly clothes and push him around in a pram,” adds Maurice and they hoot themselves nearly to death. I think I might turn vegetarian.
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