The visitors were mostly stockmen and neighbours and the occasional neíer do well, so nobody seemed to mind too much , or said they didnít, which
is almost the same thing. Then the Father came. A travelling priest on his annual rounds came unsuspecting through the gate.
His charming smile and "Hello, good dog," passed our Blue completely by. He dodged the hand that was meant to pat, and , hopefully,
mollify. CHOMP he went as is his wont , and didnít that old priest yell!
"Bluey!" roared the Boss as he came through the door, "you thundering great mutt, get to hell! Begginí your pardon, Father,
get to heck out of it, you stupid dog! Youíll have to forgive Bluey, Father, heís just so full of high spirits he canít always restrain himself."
Half a bottle of the Bossís best scotch and the Father was his normal self, but the tale spread, and many tsks and for shames, were leveled at the
Boss and the unsuspecting hound.
The Boss alternately hid a smile or hung his head to the ground , but in town at the store one day, when the missus was busy with her purchases,
a neighbour sidled up to the Boss and said in a voice that couldnít be heard beyond three paces.
"Is it true what I heard about Bluey the other day, that he went for the Father in quite a big way?"
"Iím afraid it is ,"the Boss replied and prepared to hang his head.
""Tish, man," his neighbour said, ""Donít be apologiziní to me, just promise me one of his pups."
** Practice safe eating, always use condiments. **