Sven & Ula: Sex Change
“Remember ven yer ol' Border collie dog, ‘Pat,’ chang't from bein' a female ta a male almost overnight?” Sven queried Ula, who was under his Trapper Truck changing the oil.
“Yah, lucky ve 'ad name't ‘er ‘Pat’ so’s ve dint 'ave ta go t'rough all ‘is pedigree name change an’ all," Ula grunted, as he hand-tightened the oil filter and slid the pan of used oil out to Sven."Vat made ya t’ink of dat, eh?”
“Vell, I vas lissenin' to American Public Media da udder night on me vay 'ome from bowlin'," Sven said. "And’ deys vas talkin’ 'bout a Silver pheasant someplace, dat changed from female ta male over a period of a few veeks, an' dey also mention't a chicken in Engund dat chang't inta a rooster. 'e start't cockle-dooin' on top of da dog'ouse an’ grew vattles 'neathe ‘is chin an' a big red comb on ‘is ‘ead too, eh?”
“Ya found dat interestin', did you?" Ula managed to say as he squeezed out from under his truck with his eyes closed against falling dust and dirt. "I’d t'ink ya are almost asleep bowlin’ nights like ya do, eh.”
“Oh, I can keep me eyes open dat long Ula,” Sven said careful not to slop any used oil on himself. "Vat change't on Pat, eh?"
“Vell, it vasn’t so much dat Pat change't physically, Sven," Ula said, sitting up finally, his back against the truck door,
"As it vas ve finally accept't dat ‘e vasn’t a she’ as we 'ad t'ought all along. Seein’ as me girl friend, back in the day, vas a farm girl, I never question't dat she 'ad sexed Pat properly. So, of course, I accept't 'er verd on Pat’s gender.”
“Yah but," Sven said. "Pat never raised ‘is leg to shadow a fence post? A girl dog don’ do dat, eh.”
“Vell, dat Pat vas a tricky vun as dogs go." Ula said, wiping his hands with a paper towel. "Ve 'ad called 'im a 'er fer so long, dat ‘e’d squat to pee ven 'e saw ve vere vatchin’ ‘im."
“Remember ven yer ol' Border collie dog, ‘Pat,’ chang't from bein' a female ta a male almost overnight?” Sven queried Ula, who was under his Trapper Truck changing the oil.
“Yah, lucky ve 'ad name't ‘er ‘Pat’ so’s ve dint 'ave ta go t'rough all ‘is pedigree name change an’ all," Ula grunted, as he hand-tightened the oil filter and slid the pan of used oil out to Sven."Vat made ya t’ink of dat, eh?”
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| "Pat's a tricky vun as dogs go." |
“Vell, I vas lissenin' to American Public Media da udder night on me vay 'ome from bowlin'," Sven said. "And’ deys vas talkin’ 'bout a Silver pheasant someplace, dat changed from female ta male over a period of a few veeks, an' dey also mention't a chicken in Engund dat chang't inta a rooster. 'e start't cockle-dooin' on top of da dog'ouse an’ grew vattles 'neathe ‘is chin an' a big red comb on ‘is ‘ead too, eh?”
“Ya found dat interestin', did you?" Ula managed to say as he squeezed out from under his truck with his eyes closed against falling dust and dirt. "I’d t'ink ya are almost asleep bowlin’ nights like ya do, eh.”
“Oh, I can keep me eyes open dat long Ula,” Sven said careful not to slop any used oil on himself. "Vat change't on Pat, eh?"
“Vell, it vasn’t so much dat Pat change't physically, Sven," Ula said, sitting up finally, his back against the truck door,
"As it vas ve finally accept't dat ‘e vasn’t a she’ as we 'ad t'ought all along. Seein’ as me girl friend, back in the day, vas a farm girl, I never question't dat she 'ad sexed Pat properly. So, of course, I accept't 'er verd on Pat’s gender.”
“Yah but," Sven said. "Pat never raised ‘is leg to shadow a fence post? A girl dog don’ do dat, eh.”
“Vell, dat Pat vas a tricky vun as dogs go." Ula said, wiping his hands with a paper towel. "Ve 'ad called 'im a 'er fer so long, dat ‘e’d squat to pee ven 'e saw ve vere vatchin’ ‘im."
Being the dog lover that I am, you have to know I enjoyed this post.
ReplyDelete"Pat's a tricky vun as dogs go." Aren't all canines tricky? They get us to feed and groom them, take them out on delicious walks, and let them cuddle with us on the bed. The really lucky ones ('er vuns) get to live in a magnificent Forest and chase squirrels until their blessed, little doggie hearts and paws need a rest. (One has to wonder which critter is the more intelligent, the tree rat or the dog.) Love, love, love the picture. Doesn't really matter which gender the BC is with a face like that. Almost like these furry kids are hermaphrodites, trying to please everyone as they prance in their furry garb. Can you send me the pic as an attachment, please? Can you arrange a play date with this obviously superior BC?