What’s in Ugg’s handy snake-skin pouch?…

But first…
Dulltown, UK: Today’s architectural term is Sally-port. A postern gate or passage underground from the inner to outer works of a fortification. I used to have a sally-port, but I had it filled in as soon as I found that the local cats were congregating there for yowling sessions in the night. (SP)
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‘Ugg…’
‘Yes?’
‘I’ve noticed something.’
‘Oh yes? That’s good Lugg.’
‘Don’t you want to know what it is?’
‘Well alright, what is it, that you’ve noticed?’
‘Well Ugg, it’s about you.’
‘Oh? I haven’t upset you in some way have I? I swept the cave out this morning, and I…’
‘No, no, nothing like that, but I’ve noticed that, when you eat…’
‘Oh dear, am I a noisy eater?… You can tell me you know…’
‘No, no, nothing like that Ugg, but I have noticed that you don’t generally eat all your food, and you save a bit, and slip it into your handy snake-skin pouch.’
‘Ah…’
‘What do you mean, Ah…?’
‘I was keeping quiet about, er…’
‘About what?’
‘About Xugg.’
‘Who’s he?’
‘Xugg’s not a he.’
‘Well, who is she then?’
‘Well, Xugg isn’t really a she either, I suppose, at least, I don’t quite…’
‘What are you blithering on about Ugg? Not a he, not a she! But you sneak food out for… it?…’
‘Yes.’
‘Well?’
‘Well what?’
‘This isn’t one of old Holy-Man Gugg’s spooky wispy God spirits, is it?’
‘No, they don’t eat.’
‘Don’t they?’
‘I don’t think so Lugg, I mean, you can’t even see ’em – I don’t know how they’d manage to chew on a nice bit of roast mammoth, or crunch a tasty monkey finger.’
‘So?…’
‘Well, Xugg, is a …’
‘Is a what?’
‘Xugg is a wolf – a big one, with yellow eyes.’
‘What!…’
‘Yes Lugg, and I don’t know if Xugg’s a he or a she, I haven’t looked that closely yet.’
‘Yet?…’
‘Yes, it’s early days…’
‘Oh?’
‘So far, when Xugg trots down to the rocky stream for a drink every morning, I’ve been chucking a bit of food for it – it’s getting to know me.’
‘Ugg…’
‘Yes?’
‘How do you know it’s called Xugg?’
‘It told me.’
‘Really?’
‘No.’
‘Oh…’
‘Now Xugg comes over and sniffs me.’
‘Don’t you mind?’
‘No.’
‘I would… Where did you get the idea for all this daftness?’
‘Old Holy-Man Gugg… Did you know he has a bird that talks to him – an anteater that hums – and a vole that does tricks?’
‘That’s ridiculous!’
‘I don’t think so Lugg, I’ve seen ’em!’
‘Oh?… What sort of tricks does the vole do?’
‘It does vole-jumps, but only when Old Holy-Man Gugg tells it to.’
‘I see… Where do you think all this is leading Ugg?’
‘How’d you mean Lugg?’
‘Well, all this messing about with animals, it’s not natural, it doesn’t seem right!’
‘Old Holy-Man Gugg thinks it’s a good idea – he calls them pets.’
‘Pets?’
‘Yes.’
‘Pet?… That’s a stupid sounding word!’
‘Maybe Lugg, maybe not…’

And so, animal husbandry was invented.

About Dave Whatt

Grumpy old surrealist artist, musician, postcard maker, bluesman, theatre set designer, and debonair man-about-town. My favourite tools are the plectrum and the pencil...
This entry was posted in archeology, architecture, brain, conversation, drama, food, heraldry, history, humour, people, thinking, words and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

6 Responses to What’s in Ugg’s handy snake-skin pouch?…

  1. Sharon Mann says:

    I aways wondered how animal pets started…haha.

  2. Dana Doran says:

    Ho ho your highness, I’d never eat my pet! (Well, black dog is popular is some Asian/island places…) Animal husbandry? Do you secretly have your hands clasped behind your slightly bent-forward back this morning?

  3. ktz2 says:

    oh the imaginary conversations in your head hahaha

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