Photo: K9 Boca Juniors Supporter

Update: Despite the serious effort invloved, recording the dogs on my phone , the damn thing wouldn't play on the blog. That is hopefully now fixed (blue play button below) and I've softened up my tone for the poor dogs in question as it wasn't totally P.C. (except for 'Brucey' - you I still hate with a vengeance!)

I've mentioned dog themes in previous posts (e.g. post A and post B )

I remember as a kid, our next door neighbour had this Jack Russell/Pitbull mongrel called Bruce (we called it Brucey after the tv host of the 'Generation Game' as like him it liked to talk(bark) a lot). Brucey liked to bark at the birds. He would chase them if they landed anywhere near the garden and even if they were perched 3 metres above in a tree, he would bark and bark until he got hoarse or the poor birds got fed up listening to the annoying little mut bastard and flew away. I'm not a big fan of birds either, as they can be annoying too, what with their tweet-tweet-tweetin' at 6 o' clock in the morning when you're trying to get some shut eye, but rest assured we'll fight that battle another day.

This barking would go on and on and on, and I often resorted to screaming obscenities at the little blighter to try and shut him up (especially at 8am on a Saturday if I was nursing a sore head). He seemed to respond to the 'F' word better than any other vocab I tried, so I used that quite a bit. So much so in fact , the dogs owner heard the torrent of abuse one morning and complained to my parents at the severity and vulgarity of the abuse. Fortunately for me, she put the blame on my older brother, as she must have figured, a young wee angel like myself, wouldn't be capable of whispering the swear words being used, never mind beltin' them at the top o' me lungs out the bedroom window.

My parents weren't too sympathetic to the owner either as they were fed up listening to the woof-woof-woof racket and being lumbered with keeping an eye out for the dog when the owner went away. If only Barbara 'Walkies' Woodhouse could have come to visit, the situation could've been defused. Alas, like Barbara, poor 'Brucey' passed on to dog HELL many years ago, but has been replaced with different reincarnations since although none as bad or loud as the original.

So what brought on this trip down memory lane?.. you may well ask. Well, our neighbours here in Buenos Aires, in the apartment block opposite, recently got some young dogs (about 3 by the sound of the racket). The poor dogs are locked up all day and as soon as the owners go to work, an impromtu concert of 'Hounds of the Baskervilles' ensues. Here's a wee snippet of what I now wake up to in the morning, and repeats as required during the day, eve and night! (recorded with my mobile phone).

Wait for the blue play button appear and then click to hear the free 3 dog tenors concerto, I listen to everyday!

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If perchance, my blog goes quiet and you hear of an Irishman being arrested in Buenos Aires for screaming profanities at animals, I've probably been hauled away by the R.S.P.C.A. (again!). Rest assured I'm not an animal hater as when the owners come home, I will be be screaming at them with equal, in fact more abuse for abandoning the wee critters for hours on end
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