This is a true story, only the names have been changed to protect the incorrigible.
On Friday morning of last week two of my chums, we’ll call ‘em Bill and Ben, kindly took me to the f-FDTL barracks at Metinaro for some dental work. After receiving my treatment one of the chums took me over to see the salt-water crocs the army have in an enclosure. As we approached in our distinctive coloured shirts the big male (see picture) slithered out of his pond, rushed over to the flimsy wire fence, growled, opened his absolutely bloody huge mouth and rested his lower jaw on the fence. Bill, who had his car key in his hand, reached through the wire and extracted a loose tooth (see picture) that was half hanging out. The croc gave a satisfied sigh, closed his mouth and slithered back into his pond. I think Bill must have been having a bit of a Zen moment, because he looked down at the tooth and said “bloody hell, did I just do what I think I just did?”
He truly bloody did. I saw him.
Croc tooth (left) and dog tooth
One of the chums (Bill, left) and croc.