Run #1196 - It's a Doggone Hash Part 1,196

(okay so I can't remember how many of these things my Mum has asked me to write up, but it seems like over 1,000 and as it was the Hash's 1,196th run so it seems appropriate)

Here I am at 287 runs (the only hash hound with that official number I'll have you know) putting paws to paper once again. It's such an honour asking to record another momentous run.

En route to the run, we - that is Sal or Jacque Cousteau and I (you know I do prefer her dog hash name - Flirt - it is so in keeping with her nature, but who am I to argue with the best hasher ever to name hounds, Fukawee? After all he did name me). Where was I? Oh yes they were talking about beer (what else). Apparently this new pub who desperately wanted us - Key West - were having trouble getting in a keg or a pump or something. So they were now going to sell the hashers Big Rock beer at $1.80 something which they (Ma and Pa that is) thought a steel of a deal. It was just a matter of would they be able to cope? (The pub that is). But more of that later.

So we circled up - Nootka, Sputnik, JC and myself - commenting what a barmy night it was and praying for the cold wet stuff, when before we knew it that other hash (they had a much larger circle than us - oh well our turn will come in a few days) blew their horns, and that nice Uncle Hardly said 'release the hounds.' And we were off - well sort of. Had to have a few sniffs and pees - got to set our own trail you know. Trotting along on the pathway we meandered over the 10th Street bridge, up the ramp, over Memorial Drive and - stop. Lots of milling (the hash is good at that) and then back on trail. Oh - gotta stop for a dump. Mum hates this - we get behind Dad and that bitch (oh sorry JC) - and we have to gallop to catch up.

Caught up again and next thing is - elevation. Mum likes this as I can pull her uphill but this time she was nice and gave me to Not Too Deep and all I can hear was 'this is great, I'll be up in no time.' After the up it's down and down with sounds of 'mind that stump,' or 'watch that root' ('what mine?' Rubbermaid says).

Then we are through the streets heading downtown again and we lose Dad and the bitch at the lights. But we pick up that nice Mr.Golden Showers, who I was hoping would slow Mum down, but alas he said he felt really good running. So I got dragged down this avenue, up that street, praying for my comfy bed and dreaming of the pizza crust we always get on a Monday night. Then we turned the corner and there it was - the super Subaru.

We get to rest while Mum and Dad get to party. They stagger back to the car a couple of hours later - both JC and my self bracing for the beer and smoke odours that always accompany them on a Monday night (and they complain about our breath?). We smell the beer, but no smoke. Key West is a smoke-free pub. I wish they would go to those more often - they never think of our lungs.

They start to reminisce about the trail on the way home and talk about the down-downs, which went something like this: Shack Shock and Lay'em for haring and avoiding one of Dad's long trails. Lots of new boots and archives - about seven of them including visitor Mr. Loob from Edmonchuk. Norman got named Picassole. TNT and Left Bun for showing a bad example of jaywalking and nearly becoming road kill. Tara and Aaron - two of the new boots - for Aaron wearing new shoes, and Tara for being smart and telling someone not to tell the RA that Aaron was wearing new shoes. However, the Buns were chatting so much during down down's that they had to drink out of the shoes. Rubbermaid, Bobbin' Robin, Shagadelic and Mr Loob for some sexual offence to do with Permafrost. Hardly and Suck No Evil for having safe southside sex (according to Knobby). Skewbie and Knobby for competitive hashing (what's new?). Thunder Tits gets to keeps the hash shit for removing Lumberjack's 'bit' from the hash shit and whining about it. Finally that nice owner - Ian - with the smoke-free bar for lots of cheap Big Rock beer, being organized and being so efficient.

As I drift off to sleep, we are at last home. Pizza crust is just minutes away. Until the next hash?

On Woof!
Crazy Horse