Three-legged story

This won’t take long. A three-legged story, by its nature, cannot be long-winded.

But it is a story that tells of my travels.

So here it is:

Today I witnessed a three-legged dog trying to take a pee.

Just imagine the complications!

And you think you’ve got problems.

Fortunately for this triped-quadruped, it was a front leg that was missing.

Most dogs I’ve seen that are missing a leg, are missing one front corner like this.

And that amounted to no small mercy for the dog in this three-legged story.

And so he had perfected a technique of leaning against the tree while precariously balancing on two paws, fore and aft, and still managing to cock his outside back leg in the time-honoured tradition.

And then pissing away from the tree.

We do what we must.

Only on this occasion, there was this human standing there, nearby, see, stupefied it seems by this dog’s trick.

Standing on the wrong side, the outside, of the tree.

So he got his trouser leg well and truly peed on. And his nice new kangaroo-skin shoes.

That human was me.

Today I saw a three-legged dog trot off into a sunset, with a truly satisfied smile on his face.

And I saw a tree. Only the tree wasn’t trotting anywhere.

A galah above me in the tree said something. Probably uncomplimentary, but I don’t know.

The dog glanced back at me.

His smile lingered on.

I’ll wager he was still wearing it, even after he had turned the hoppity corner.

So be it.

We do what we do.