A while ago I was at a restaurant in darkest France with Mrs MG. The establishment was well known for its cuisine except the menu was limited to what the chef chose to cook that night and on the night we were there it was barbequed steak! However I digress except that the chef / owner of the estabishment had a large dog which was running around outside amongst the diners on the gravel patio.
At some point during the evening (I'm not sure if this coincided with the arrival of her steak) the dog appeared at her side. As I said it was a large dog along the lines of a pointer and its head was level with the table. The dog looked at Mrs MG ... there was a sound of "Phtooeeehhh" and it spat a stone which it had been carrying around onto the table. Now Mrs MG likes dogs so she picked up the stone (which was the same size of the rest of the gravel area we were sat on) and lobbed it ... dog legs it , sniffs around where the stone had landed and retrieved it ...phtoooeeeh .... and round we go again ... and again ...etc!
The owner of said dog eventually tips up and Mrs MG asks him what the dogs name was ... "Dittoff" at which point I fell about laughing trying to explain the the Frenchman what his dogs name was in English!
The moral of this is that if I ever get a dog a) its NOT going to be a rat on a string and b) I'm going to call it "Dittoff" and NOT Zelda!