Sunday, November 22, 2009

Dog tale

I take my tekkel to dog training on Saturday mornings. Delilah is a lot bigger and greedier than the average dachsie and very much like the ANC in that she demands bribes and gives back very little in the way of obedience. But I persevere and yesterday I was finally rewarded with her getting the gist of the "sit", "stand" and "down" commands.

So I was on a high and not prepared to take kak from my husband when he abruptly interrogated me: "And what are we doing for lunch?"

"What did you do with the road map to the kitchen I gave you?" I screeched back.

Two hours later I'm wrapping a mangled, half raw chicken in foil to put back in the oven at the correct temperature with the rack in the middle when the doorbell rings.

I check out the scene at the front gate with the video intercom and see two black dudes on the monitor.

"Wattya looking for?" I inquire.

"We're from the municipality for the electricity meter", the one with the dreadlocks replies.

"But I phone in the meter reading every month," I ricochet without missing a beat.

"No lady, we've come to do an audit on the meter." At that point the intercom goes dead. The bugger has hung up on me. I move my way carefully to the front gate, keeping my body to the wall in case of hostile fire, armed only with a baseball bat.

The two guys from the municipality watch me guardedly as I inch around the corner to show my face.

"We need access to the meter to audit it," says the older, more experienced one, which I thought was entirely unreasonable.

"Wait a moment. I am a blogger, critical of the ANC! Surely I have special rights," I assert. "I demand a search warrant and the presence of at least 28 policemen before you guys set foot on my property!"

"You don't like the ANC," says the older guy. "You should know how we don't like the government for not paying us danger money to audit electricity meters. "

I demand, and get, ID to be on the slightly safer side, carefully checking out the panel van for the municipality insignia. You can be sure about nothing these days, so I'm careful about not letting the dog into the street as I open the gate.

The guy with the dreadlocks moves apprehensively onto the property, casting a wary look at Delilah.

"Ayilumi," I say. "She doesn't bite."

Ten minutes later the whole meter audit ordeal is mercifully over and the municipality guys are grinning at me and waving goodbye from the safety of their panel van.

"We won't be back again until July, we promise you."

Ayilumi. She doesn't bite. Unless I say so. Of course.

4 Opinion(s):

Viking said...

nice :)

Exzanian said...

Excellent Dach! That's a really great tale! ;)

FishEagle said...

You're all way too clever for your own good! :)

Doberman said...

Doggarnit, that's a nice tale.