Sad tale of an Afghan Hound and a Wabbit.

WARNING: If you trust your best mate. Think Again.
What if, you had a mate that you worked alongside for years. What if, after work and on the weekend you socialised with that mate and his family.
What if, your mate won a 2 week Pacific cruise in a Lottery draw, and What if, your mate had a stupid and dopey Afghan Hound (remember when they were popular in Oz?).
What if, your mate asked you to look after the dopey Afghan for the 2 weeks they would be away on the cruise. You Agree! Woops! Big Mistake!
What if, after 4 days the Afghan had broken a priceless vase, shit in your bedroom, terrorised the kiddies and pissed in every corner of the house. What if, you couldn’t stand the sight of the dog!
What if, you were so upset you had a lapse in judgement and decided to go “wabbiting”. Take the dog? Bad idea! So you grab your old single shot Lithgow .22 and go “wabbiting with the “Dope.”
AH! The fresh air and what is that I see. A Bunny, A Wabbit, stand still little wabbit. You take careful aim and POP! It falls dead, a neat hole in the head. But it’s not the wabbit because the Afghan lies motionless, it had jumped headlong into the path of the bullet.
The wabbit hops slowly away, wondering “what the fuck.”
You wonder? Hmmm! That Afghan could never have bin huntin’ before… Oh! well! Them’s the breaks! Your mate arrives back from the cruise.
“I am sorry to inform you that your Afghan got under the fence and runned away.” “Heartbreaking, it was….”
The late Warren Pietsch

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