Stan the Staffie

Our first dog TC was the product of a romantic liaison – a match made in heaven. Staffordshire Terrier Stan Hill jumped Jack Russel Terrier Mouse Hill and she produced a litter. Dave and Goldie’s Sir Stanley Staffordshire of Melrose Farm in Mid-Illovo was a semi-handsome, tuxedo-clad, white-gloved, almost-pedigree Staffie who’d lost his papers but we were assured he was in the country legitimately. And they knew who his Mom was.

The Hills once took Stan on holiday to hoity-toity Plettenberg Bay where they met people with a very stressful holiday job: To look after a fine pedigree Afghan bitch on heat. Big responsibility to keep it away from all lesser dogs and avoid an unwanted pregnancy.

Well, good luck with that with Stan the Man around. When they looked again, there was Stan on the beach, publicly locked in holy matrimony with the long-haired beauty. Something like this (Staffies are known more for their enthusiasm than their class):

A legend in his own lunchtime was Stan.

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Now read just how faulty memory can be! Here’s the details from someone who was there: Stan’s owner, Dave Hill:

nice It was actually at Mbotyi on the Wild Coast and the femme fatale was a nubile young Spaniel sent there with the owners’ mother because she was on heat! Bad idea! Stan left our cottage after supper every evening only coming home late late late. One morning we couldn’t find him………..so we went a-searching. Lo and behold! right on the main beach, in front of quite a crowd was young Stan the Man in flagrante delicto with this young virgin Spaniel. In flagrante delicto in dogs, as you know, means dog-knotted. When Stan saw us he belted up the beach with the damsel stuck fast around his underbelly! My solution of course was to pick em up hurl them into the water which caused great mirth and unknotted them. We often wonder about that liaison and the end result . . . . .
Kind regards, Dave

 

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