As I'm sure you all know hooman dad never makes any mistakes and never gets anyfink wrong...well at least they're the words he says to himself in his licckle head. So knowing that, him deciding that the heffalump was finished with all the helloboysbumsmell stuff and she could go for a walk seemed a good decision then. If anybody ever asked my opinion I would have maybe had slightly different view of her state of rumptypumtyness but do they ever listen? No. Nor did they notice when she was cocking her leg and spraying half of wigwam with date marked time stamped number 1's with flashing arrows saying 'this way fellas'.....Even when we met that shit zoo and the hairy hippo began wagging her tail like a broken smellycopter the hoomans still seemed oblivious to the fact that she was in fact.....cookiehorny. Now faced with a hooge slobbering hairy windmill that looked terryfying but smelt delicious this licckle doglet had a look on its face that I could only describe as terrorlust. How? Must have been going through his mind because being about the size of one of her fish treats could prove problematic. It was during this period of contemplation on his part that the slobbernosserus, impatient at his hesitation decided to initiate some passion by cracking him over the head with her right paw. Well as foreplay goes it probably wasn't his first choice as suddenly he looked more like dad after half a bottle of falling over water.....Not to be put off by a bit of staggering the Cookster somehow managed to slip him another one just in case he hadn't noticed her. The hooman owner who had laughed off the first clubbing paw as 'playing' suddenly realised she had to save licckle Basil and hurried off down the street dragging her punch drunk doglet behind her. Cookie stood tail still whirring and with a look of confoosion, I'm sure thinking 'how did he not fancy this'? Ah Cookie you are possibly the answer to canine contraception......well done Cookie, well done.