|On 22/08/2011 Mr pmonks wrote:
>Disagree - dogs are entirely acceptable, indeed actively encouraged, within
>all areas including NPs, as long as they're part of a stew, pie, cloak,
>picnic rug, etc. Nothing better than seeing dogs being put to good use...
>...well except for seeing cats being put to similar, excellent uses.
On the subject of disagreeing Mr pmonks, things may not always be what they seem?
Here is a little anecdote Derek my M10 love found to illustrate the point for you to ponder.
An old climber and his dog were walking along a road.
The climber was enjoying the scenery,
when it suddenly occurred to him that he was dead.
He remembered dying, and that the dog walking beside him had been dead for years.
He wondered where the road was leading them.
After a while, they came to a high, white stone wall along one side of the road.
It looked like fine Arapilean quartzite.
At the top of a long hill, it was broken by a tall arch that glowed in the sunlight.
When he was standing before it, he saw a magnificent gate in the arch that looked like mother-of-pearl, and the street that led to the gate looked like pure gold.
He and the dog walked toward the gate, and as he got closer, he saw a man at a desk to one side.
When he was close enough, he called out, 'Excuse me, where are we?'
'This is Heaven, sir,' the man answered.
'Wow! Would you happen to have some water?' the climber asked.
'Of course, sir. Come right in, and I'll have some ice water brought right up.'
The man gestured, and the gate began to open. 'Can my friend,' gesturing toward his dog, 'come in, too?' the climber asked.
'I'm sorry, sir, but we don't accept pets.'
The climber thought a moment and then turned back toward the road and continued the way he had been going with his dog.
After another long walk, and at the top of another long hill, he came to a dirt road leading through a farm gate that looked as if it had never been closed.
There was no fence, no sign preventing cars, but there was plenty of firewood available for campfires.
As he approached the gate, he saw a man inside, leaning against a tree and reading a book....
'Excuse me!' he called to the man. 'Do you have any water?'
'Yeah, sure, there's a pump over there, come on in.'
'How about my friend here?' the climber gestured to the dog.
'There should be a bowl by the pump,' said the man.
They went through the gate, and sure enough, there was an old-fashioned hand pump with a bowl beside it.
The climber filled the water bowl and took a long drink himself, then he gave some to the dog.
When they were full, he and the dog walked back toward the man who was standing by the tree.
'What do you call this place?' the climber asked.
'This is Heaven,' he answered.
'Well, that's confusing,' the climber said.
'The man down the road said that was Heaven, too.'
'Oh, you mean the place with the gold street and pearly gates? Nope. That's hell.'
'Doesn't it make you mad for them to use your name like that?'
'No, we're just happy that they screen out the folks who would leave their best friends behind.'