On Friday the 25th Angie and I travelled through to Welkom to visit my parents for the weekend. We left in the morning because I also had some business matters to deal with in Welkom (such matters that will be dealt with in a future post, as they are quite interesting too).
The good thing about the journey to Welkom is that they have recently retarred the road which runs between Kroonstad and Welkom. The road was considered to be fairly crappy previously. Although dual-carriage way, it was poorly maintained and heavily potholed. The Department of roadworks had, however, provided useful signs indicating the presence of such potholes. For a long time it seemed that they would permanently be satisfied with this corrective measure — after all, it prevented vehicle owners from suing the department when the vehicles in question had their rims mangled by potholes. “Well we did warn you,” they’d say.
The bad thing about the journey was that the road had been retarred so recently that there was still some loose gravel lying around on it. Loose gravel that truck wheels tend to throw into windscreens.
Ah well, I got the chip repaired today, and I also got to practise patience. Little did I know how much patience was in store for me that day — but that is another story.
I first dropped Angie and The Bean off at my parents place, where my dear mother drew Angie’s attention to the local Welkom newspaper, the Vista. They don’t appear to have much on-line content, but rest assured that the hard copy exists, and is filled with words and pictures and advertisements and the like.
In the Vista was an article about the Claws animal shelter, and how a great number of furry canine and feline beasts require good homes. Cunningly, they inserted two photographs with the article — 1 x Maltese and 1 x Maltese-cross-Yorkie (or so they claimed).
The photos were cute. Angie wanted to rescue one. “We need a friend for The Bean, and these dogs need Good Homes!”
I hemmed and hawed, but to no avail. And anyway, I needed to head off for my work appointment. I left the rescuing of one small dog in the capable hands of my wife and mother (who needed to go along to show Angie where Claws was based). “Which one should we get?” Whichever.
Apparently Angie chose the least lovable looking one.
Least lovable? But those photos of Kelty are sooooo cute. Are you mad man?
I’m not mad. We’d have a before the three baths, one haircut, and de-ticking photograph if I’d not been otherwise detained by work related matters. We don’t because Angie doesn’t have the eye (or inclination to develop the eye) for blog-worthy material that I do. Instead, she just gets things done. I generally stand around watching them get done, and documenting how they get done.
Her function is more admirable. Mine, more self-indulgent.
What follows is the story I’ve pieced together from the evidence given to me.
Angie chose the least lovable, most-matted, most smelly, tick-infested, small “The Bean Dog”-like dog at Claws. In consultation with the rest of the family, we eventually named him Kelty.
Following an intensive trimming, washing, rewashing, trimming, and tick-removing session, Kelty was transformed into the “illegally” cute little dog you see today.
It wasn’t always good times for Kelty Dog. Abandoned for two weeks in a house with no food, and only a little water, he and two or three other little Maltese-like dogs were eventually discovered by concerned neighbours.
Kelty has spent the last two months at claws, without an owner or a home, becoming increasingly matted and smelly.
When Angie chose him, lifted him up and embracing him in all his malodorous glory, Neil’s mother recommended that Angie rather choose one of the other little dogs — but Angie was not to be dissuaded.
Once he got home (after vomiting up fur-balls in the car), he was met by Neil’s father, who asked whether or not Angie would be able to return the dog and get a refund. Such was the poor condition that Kelty was originally discovered in.
After being cleaned up, he was initially quite timid, but is growing in confidence with each passing day.
–Waffle Master Press
The Bean wasn’t too pleased about the new addition. She sulked. She moped.
She is getting used to him now, so we’re not too stressed that they’ll hate each other any longer. Or at least, I’m not too stressed. I’m not sure Angie was worried about it to start with.
3 thoughts on “Kelty: The Full Story and More!”
And Angie said that Welkom would be less glamourous than Paris! I think you did well with Kelty (that is where your Mom is from, right?) although I think if you wanted a Scottish name you should have gone for ‘wee haggis beastie’. your mom told us this hilarious description…
“Wee haggis beastie”. Och aye! It does have a nice ring to it, but Kelty is definitely more practical, being only two syllables as opposed to five.
I think that’s a reference to Robert Burns’ “To a Mouse.”
More accurately read as “Wee, sleekit, cowrin, tim’rous beastie” which is without any doubt, completely impractical. It also refers to a mouse. A cowering, timorous mouse.
Kelty does not cower very much. But perhaps we shall nickname him something along those beastie lines.