South Korea must have a serious rat problem. I haven’t seen a great number of the animals myself, but I have seen a gazillion ratting dogs. They are everywhere. I have seen them in cars, in purses, stuffed inside coats and vests. Some ride about in prams, I assume to protect children. Others, I have spied inside baskets and in mobile shopping trollies. I even saw one walking!
A couple of days ago we were down at the beach. I was trying to get The Big Dude to run a little more than he wanted. Out of nowhere a couple of ratters arrived. They were about half my size and 1/4 of my weight. I wasn’t overly impressed with their form. One was put down on the sand and promptly peed. Not the good pee, the kind that signals intent and offers a rich personal history. No this was the kind of pee produced by fear. The second terrier touched the sand and immediately started shaking and whining. Possibly she suffered from PTSD, a result of all the horrors of her ratting experiences? I ran over to say hello. Before I was even halfway to them, the humans came swooping down and scooped them up with lots of shrill cries and piercing screams. Well, I just stopped dead. I feared I would be dead. Very dead. Those ratting terriers can be nasty. The humans were obviously concerned enough to be worried about my safety.
I got a look at the Yorkshire Terrier before it was stuffed inside a plasticy smelling bag marked ‘Prada’. She looked wild. Her eyes bulged and boggled. She had on some body armor that had seen better days. Judging by the pictures stitched into it, it used to belong to someone called Snoopy. Her facial fur was pulled back into a little bun that sat right on top of her head, possibly for extra protection from rat bites, but it gave her a permanent rictus of frenzied lunacy. One of her canines was decidedly snaggled. The ears were the most disturbing, and disturbed part of the visage. One neon pink and the other electric green. I almost felt sorry for the rats. Almost.
At this point, Captain Huffy rocked up. Over his wheezing and panting, the disrespectful tone of his voice was easily discernable. He was not impressed with the ratting terriers. He talked to the other humans about puppies and monsters and something about 4 legs and put them down. I thought that last one was unbelievably harsh! So I went in for a correcting bite to his ankles. He was unamused but I bounded out of the way of the kick he ‘playfully’ aimed at my head. The gaggle of Korean terrier carriers erupted into screams. I guess they love their blood sports.The Big Dude stalked off muttering about idiots and after a minute of him yelling I followed barking questions about rats and terriers and blood sports.
I shall have to investigate ratting further. We might need to set up some kind of support network for all the traumatized dogs if my experience of these 2 terrified terriers is repeated. There is a lot to think about there. I shall retire to my bed with chewable Yoda and consider all that I have learned.