I had an encounter with a Husky yesterday, and I am sad to say I didn’t cover our breed with glory.

Let me back up a bit – to about 3 pm yesterday.  Catman (the male staffer at the Ainsley Institute – we call him Catman because a few years ago he was overheard by Angus telling Mama that he would prefer having just cats – cause “they are friendlier than Scotties and a lot less trouble”) took me to the Dog Park.  Ever since I beat up that Pitbull late last year, he looked carefully at the dogs at the dog park.   There were about 4 dogs in there…all bigger, with one Husky.  Catman thought we might should leave – but I saw we were at the dog park and badly wanted to go in.  So, he said ok, I’m not sure about this, but we will walk to the gate and see how they act.

Well, at the gate they all seemed ok.  No growling.  All of the dogs were bigger than me, of course.  Besides the Husky there was a lab, and a couple of other mutty looking dogs.  So I go in.

We were in there about 2 or 3 minutes, no trouble, when 2 of the dogs left.  Then it was just me, the Husky, and the Lab.  Then the Lab’s hooman decided to pet the Husky.

Let me digress a moment here.  Hoomans!  The Dog Park isn’t about you, if it was it would be the HOOMAN PARK!  You should really leave us alone, don’t touch us.  That adds an element of jealousy and emotions in there that messes the whole dynamic up!

So anyway, what do you think happened?  Anybody?  What you say over there?  That everyone got along famously, and the Lab and Husky became best friends?  WRONG!  Sit in the corner and shut up!

No, the Lab of course, growled at the Husky, the Husky, cause the Husky ain’t a golden retriever, growled back, and a scuffle ensued.  I was about 50 feet away, but I tried to charge right in there and get in the middle of it.

So now, the Lab left.  Just me and the Husky.

Let me describe the Husky for you.  He was, as Bernie Sanders would describe, YUGE!   At least 100 pounds – a very big husky.  With those diabolical soulless blue eyes that Huskies have.  You look in there, and you realize you can see Satan in there.  And worse yet, about 2 years old.  The frisky, I wanna irritate you, age.

So now that it was just me and him…what did he do?  He bounded over to me.  Of course, I see a 100 pound devil dog running to me, I growl.  What does he do…growl back.  I’m right by Catman now, trying to use him as tactical cover – and I don’t know why I did what I did next.

I JUMPED ON CATMAN TO HAVE HIM PICK ME UP AND KEEP ME SAFE!

Yes, I know.  I’m quite aware of Scottie Military Code and Rule 17-D – never rely on a hooman to keep us safe.  I don’t know what I was thinking.  I panicked.

Anyway – we immediately left.  The Husky maintained control of the battlefield.

I was hoping it could be my little secret – just me and Catman would know.  But I forgot that evil Husky wouldn’t keep a secret.

Last night I heard thunder.  I know what that was.

It wasn’t a stream of electrons, heated to 50,000 degrees Fahrenheit, which as it cools produces a resonating tube of partial vacuum surrounding the lightning’s path, generating a sound we call thunder.

No -it wasn’t that at all.  I’m a scientist, I know these things.

No, the Thunder I heard was Angus Fala throwing chairs around at his Boiled Egg & Ice Cream Parlor up at the Rainbow Bridge.

I would recognize my brother Angus’s tantrums anywhere.  Even from Earth while he is up there at the Bridge.

Angus knows what happened.

And if he knows, Scottie HQ is sure to know soon.

So I am pretty depressed today – afraid of the ramifications for my career as a Scottie.  Here is a picture of me – alone with my thoughts this morning.  This could be bad.  Yuge.

ainsley in living room 2-22-2016 7-01-25 AM