Almost ten years has passed since The Wattmutt, (in puppy times known as the Wattmuttlet), joined the team as an apprentice security guard dog.
Chosen to match the colour of the carpet, she has proven to be exceptionally vigilant in certain circumstances, namely those where no risk exists to her own life, limb and sybaritic comfort.
An example of this: from the moment that the postman makes his daily trek from the porter’s lodge at the far end of the Wattmeister Estate up to the front door, her frenzied barking resounds throughout the mansion….loosening the lugwork on The Wattmeister’s favourite steel framed bike and shattering the epoxy resin which holds his racing machines together.
However, if a burglar, or even the postman, were to breach the formidable fortifications, just one Jazzy Snack would allow the intruder free passage and a guided tour throughout the entire residence.
Her life is lived through her stomach, (from whom did she learn that trick?). There are key sounds which galvanise her into action.
- The sound of Wattmeisterling Numero Uno putting on the kettle in the servant’s quarters is guaranteed to precipitate the Downward Dog…..that is to get downstairs as fast as possible.
- Each morning after she beautifies herself in her parlour, the sound of The Wattmeisterin’s wardrobe door closing is a sure sign that feeding time is imminent.
Regarding point number 2, while on prolonged sabbatical, The Wattmeister has invented a mischievous little game to keep the Mutt on her toes. Ignoring the signs on the door of The Wattmeisterin’s boudoir….”Trespassers Will Be Shot“…..and, “Anything of Any Value is Kept in the Cellar”, his latest wheeze is to open and close the aforementioned wardrobe door. This has the effect of exercising the dog as she runs up and down the staircase without having to venture out, bikeless, into the world.
No doubt she will catch on soon being such a clever creature. Her mathematics is particularly good. Why, only the other day, after taking the sprint in Regents Park, The Wattmeister was working out the optimum winning gear….thinking aloud….*”57 divided by 19″….eliciting 3 barks from the canine genius!
*57 being the number of teeth on TW’s smaller chainring