A Dog’s Blog

WHAT? You're not going to play with me? Meanie man!

Sniff…slobber… I got yelled at last week.

No really, I did. Serious CAPITAL LETTERS and a tap on the bum. By Mom nogal!

Heard Alpha’s little car roar up in the driveway and dashed off to fetch my ball.

Grinned at mom. Go on. Open the door then.

She opened the door and some devil dog dived into my lovely furry bod and took over.

That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

As the door opened I spotted my nemesis. Flew down the little step, spat out the ball and charged up the road… desperate to have a go at that dastardly little snack that torments me so often. Lucky for her, her owner scooped her up and my snapping fangs missed by a millimeter.

Was about to take a mad leap to try and dislodge her from her the safety of her owners arms but was thwarted. (Okay, would not have gone that far – my hackles were all raised and I must have looked splendidly fearsome.)

Mom had dashed after me, brandishing the kitchen scissors that she had been using.

She rudely grabbed my collar and shrieked at me.  Wondered for a moment if she was going to whack me with the scissors but she swopped hands and tapped my furry backside with her other hand.

Did you ever! How rude – smacking your doglet in public. Think I should inform the SPCA immediately for misuse of Miss Fudgie-wena.

Then she gabbled something about being sorry.

Hroof – I was sorry too – had not managed to get my fangs on the wretched snack.

Turns out she was not saying sorry to me – oh no – she was saying sorry to the snack’s humans.

Alpha had wandered up by this stage and was adding his two pellets worth.

Mom impolitely yanked me back inside, barely giving me time to collect my ball. She was still bawling me out and wagging the scissors at me.

BAD DOG Fudges! You know you are not allowed to dash into the road like that. A car might have got you.

Yeah yeah. Speak to the paw because the ears are not listening. Oh wait… what am I hearing? You were more worried about a car getting me than me getting that foofie little creature. Snik snik snik…

Alpha followed her in and shut the front door. Smiled at him and wagged my tail.

Turned out he was also miffed with me and there was to be no ball playing for a while. Went off to sulk in the last few rays of sunshine.

Heard Alpha asking mom what happened. Mom started whispering… ah ha – pricked up my ears to have a listen. She always whispers when she does not want me to hear.

That wretched little creature runs around outside all day, yapping and barking – driving poor Fudgie mad, murmured Mom. Guess she just lost it when she saw her trotting down the road and went for her.

No excuse thundered Alpha. She can’t go round eating the neighbourhood mutts.

My woggly whiskers! I wasn’t going to EAT the rotten little furball – was just going to frighten it a bit. Like scare the furry knickers off her. Or better still; scare all the yippity yaps out of her.

I tell you – had to some serious smooching to get back into Mom’s good books.

Would SOMEBODY play ball with me... okay... please?

Mom checks me out and woggles her head. This means okay Fudges – off the bed now. I want to make it.

Look back at her – erm nope – haven’t rolled around and shed two thousand hairs on the duvet yet. She wiggles her head more firmly – gives me the evil eye.

I yawn, do a quick roll and slither onto the floor… thinking good grief woman – was about to do one of my awesome shake rattle and roll moves here.

Trot onto the balcony with her and check she does a good job of shaking the hairs off the duvet.  Would not want them getting up my nose when I have a nice nap later now would I.

Winter is on its way and it’s a tad chilly at night. There are now two duvets to shake out. Plus my blankie of course.

Baskie and blankie get aired each day on the balcony so that our bedroom does not smell like wet chicken. Rude hey? Saying  your lovely doglet smells like wet chicken.

Mind you… if I’ve been scrummaging around in wet grass I could pong a little. Still think the wet chicken thing is a bit over the top though.

Every now and then mom tells me that I am a spoilt bratty.

I’m well loved, get walked every single day during the week with lekker longer walks over the weekend. Have lots of ball playing. Get regular snacks. (Yum – like bacon Rollies.) Also get to nap on different beds, have an office desk of my own and… most days I have mom (except for when she abandons me and goes off somewhere).  Also get to go for car trips around the place and on holiday every now and then too. Not so shabby.

She tells me I should absolutely not look at her with sad eyes when I sidle up and give her the nose if she’s busy working on her laptop thingy. Nor should I be fussy about my food, which is, lets furry face it, pretty darn good most of the time.

This all started because we were feeling sorry for some of the neighborhood mutts. When we go for our morning weemails we see lots of little noses pressed through the cracks of the doors. Shame – their humans work all day and they hardly ever get taken for walks. (How do we know this… our house is on the corner and we can spy on the neighbours!)

We don’t mind if the noses stick out of the front garden gates, but when they are incarcerated in the teensy tiny bricked-in back yard then we get seriously miffed. Mom sneaks up and spies through the doors to check that they have water and shelter. Sometimes she gets bust by blue dudes and has to explain.

Seriously people – it’s not nice to leave your doglets in small spaces all day. Specially if you don’t take them for a walk. And you know – if you think you’ve got a big yard so your dog does not need a regular walk – you’re wrong about that too. Us dogs need to go for daily weemail. We also get cold. Don’t think just because we’ve got nice fur coats that we are all warm and snuggly. We like comfy baskies and blankies.

We love our humans unconditionally. We don’t ask for much, but we do need to be looked after and loved too.

Okay – lecture over – now where is that wretched mom – it’s time to play some ball.

me... having a silent snigger

Hroof! You know that mom is quite naughty sometimes…

Last week you heard how spoilt I am (not true really) but s’pose we are all entitled to our opinions. 

Alpha considers me being a spoilt little doglet because mom always shares her food with me. She saves me a morsel or two then cuts it up teensy tiny and scatters it around the plate so that I feel like I’m getting maximum snack.

In return for this I’m not supposed to slobber on her foot whilst she eats.

Sometimes I forget and slobber anyway.

Now before you start nodding your head and saying ah hah… no wonder Fudgie is pudgie – bite your tongue!

I am no longer pudgie Fudgie – am a sleekly trim Miss Fudgie wena. With a neat little waist I’ll have you know. Can now leap nimbly into the backseat of the car instead of needing a boost. Guess the fact that mom really only eats properly once a day helps – the odd bits she eats in between and shares with me would not keep a fly alive. Definitely not enough to make me fat!

Apart from porridge in the morning, Alpha does not do the sharing thing.

He says I’m the dog (did you ever?) and his food is for him and not for me (what utter rot). If, on the very odd occasion he has a tidbit that he’s not going to eat – he hands his plate to mom to give to me.

So the other day mom made some nice meaty stuff for supper.  She’s a sneaky weasel too. Makes sure she feeds me first – before she starts cooking. Otherwise I could quite possibly turn my nose up at my dinner and look expectantly at the oven instead. All those delicious smells swirling around the kitchen and me eating dog food?

Ghah. I’m thinking not here.

Mom and I had finished eating and we were cleaning up the dishes. Was helping to sort out the pan. Had licked it all nice and clean, sniffed around a bit of funny smelling fruity stuff, ran my tongue over it and decided I was not going to ruin the delicious meaty taste with junk.

Mom picked up the pan and was carrying it to the sink when Alpha brought his plate in.

Yum, he said, can I have this? He picked up the pineapple from the pan and popped it into his mouth.

Now I’m quite, quite sure there was enough time for mom to yell Nooooo waaaaaiiittt – Fudgie already had a go at that, but you know – she kept completely silent.

Around the stage where Alpha had just finished swallowing he figured out what had happened. He went a bit pale and looked at mom with big eyes.

But Mom could not look at him. She was practically comatose from laughing. All scrooched up and doubled over giggling.

Alpha was not entirely amused.  I skedaddled under the table and had a quiet smirk all of my own.

What?

One sort of takes things for granted and then when they don’t happen – all hell breaks loose. 

Like for instance… Alpha gets his brekky in bed each day. But it does not miraculously arrive by magic – no indeedy – mom gets it. So it stands to reason if mom is not there – then Alpha gets no breakfast. You should understand here – it’s not Alpha’s welfare that I’m bothered about – it’s mine.

If he does not eat breakfast in bed – then the chances are darn tooting good that there is going to be no bowl licking for me either. And there wasn’t. For the whole time mom was away. Nor were there any tiddybits from making his sarmies either because why… he did not make himself any sarmies.

Yes – it’s true – I am snitching and telling tails.

The day after mom got home – the beep beep beeps went off and she got out of bed, went downstairs and did her usual momly stuff. It’s getting a bit chilly in the morning now – so I do my business, then dash back upstairs and dive onto the bed. Usually like to snuggle my butt up close to Alpha for warmth but he’s not always amenable to that idea. Instead I’ve taken to weaseling my way into mom’s side of the bed. Like, under the duvet.

Out Fudgie!  Says mom, squidging in beside me and stealing all the warmth. I gaze at her adoringly. Blink once or twice.

Surely not?

She gives me another nudge. Surely yes it would seem. I sigh and heft my furry bod out of the bed and shift to the end by her feet. Alpha rouses himself and starts to chomp his cereal. I keep a wary eye on him – every now and then he forgets and eats it all.

Obviously my wary eye, nose and chops are all connected because it would appear that I am slobbering great slobbery drools onto mom’s foot.

Eergh yuk sies foof Fudges, mom exclaims.  I give her a lick to add to the mess.

Alpha shudders – he does not do drool. However, this has done the trick because he stops eating and taps the bowl with his spoon.

Leapt off the bed. Ohyumohyumohyum… lemme at it.

Gnrrf – not too much to get excited about but better than nothing. Leapt back onto the bed and spent a few seconds slurping my tongue around my fangs – getting all the little gritty bits out of my teeth.

Burped delicately.

Alpha gave me a nudge with his foot under the duvet. Oi! Move over a bit Fudge. He spreads himself out in the bed and grabs his laptop. Mom is teetering on the side – I’m anchoring her down by lying on her foot.

She scratches underneath my chin with her sock. Smiled at her and wagged my tail. Suddenly Alpha starts coughing and snorting.

Jeez Fudge! Was that necessary?

What? Says mom.

I look at Alpha. Yes! What?

But by then mom’s also coughing and snorting – and giggling a bit.

That’s very wicked of you Fudgie – farting and then wagging your tail so that the vile honk wafts up to Alpha at the top of the bed.

Snuggled my head on my paws and closed my eyes. Ahhh yes… life is back to normal.

Saturday was sort of cool and miserable. Not the kind of stuff where I can go roll and snort in the grass or nap in the sun.

It had rained half the night and that wretched Thunderdog had roared and howled. I was forced to spend my time cowering under the bed instead of snoring in my nice cozy baskie.

True, it had cleared up enough for us to go for a walk in the morning, but the ground was all muddy and squelched between my toenails. Erk! Not very ladylike. The grass was wet too and tickled my tum.

A bit of weak sunlight filtered out from the clouds later on in the day. Mom and I made a beeline for the stoep and revelled in the warmth.

After some time the sun went behind a cloud. Mom got up and said okay Fudge – time to hit the kitchen.

I nodded eagerly. Clever lady.  Let’s go make something scrummy. Could do with a snack.

We tootled off to the kitchen. Mom hauled things out the cupboard and started mixing. I stood next to her feet. Waiting to be helpful, like clean up bowls and stuff.

She almost tripped over me on the way to turn the oven on, but did not say a word.

Then she tipped the bowl of stuff onto the counter and started playing with it.

Nudged her leg. Well! Pass the bowl then.

She ignored me.

Gave her the serious nose. Oi! What about me? Your precious doglet?

Finally the penny dropped.

Oh Fudges. Sorry! She exclaimed. This isn’t stuff you can eat – it’s salt dough.

Salt dough… hmmm. Well… let’s have a taste then? I’ll be the judge. And if you are going to cook it – somebody is going to eat it and it might as well be me.

But she shook her head.  Nah Fudges. I’m making beads – not food.

Beads! I sat my ground. Does she think I am a stupid little doglet?

We all know she buys those things in the shop and bounces them all over the stoep when she drops them. Am not allowed to eat those either. She doesn’t make them in the kitchen or cook them in the oven. Was outraged that once again she was trying to pull the fur over my eyes.

She finished rolling and patting and sticking toothpicks into little ball shapes and put the whole shebang into the oven.

We gazed at them through the little window. Check it out Fudgie-wena – lots of beads.

I checked it out. Lots of stuff – how am I supposed to know if they are actually beads or not? Could be some tasty little snacks she was keeping all to her own meanie self.

Must say though… no delicious smells came sneaking out the oven like they usually do. Every now and then she would haul out the tray and wiggle things around. Watched very closely to make sure she did not pop anything into her mouth and chomp it on the sly.

Turns out it really was beads that she was making. She says if anybody wants to know how to make your own beads – go visit that brat Sibo’s blog.

Poor me – I was snackless that Saturday afternoon so I sulked under the table instead.

I'll just slobber on it a bit...

I so noticed that mom was sneakily stuffing things into her wheelie box when she thought I was otherwise occupied. Weaselie woman! Clearly she was planning to desert me again.

Figured aah well – could manage without her for a day or two.  After all, staying home with Alpha was much better than being shuffled into the kennels.

Hrooof! Clearly I thought wrong. Perhaps the kennels would have been better. That wretched Alpha left home at the crack of dawn – expected me to trot around the complex before I was even properly awake. Then he deserted me all day. For hours and hours… and hours. Sometimes it was even dark when he came home.

Had to occupy my own self. Could not go outside to widdle either and on a couple of occasions had to do some seriously knuiping.

Okay – before you start reaching for the phone to call the SPCA and report my humans for mistreating their precious little doglet – in all honesty I was not sooooo hard done by. Alpha made sure the balcony door was open so I could sit outside in the sunshine and growl at the blue dudes when they walked through our garden plus I could supervise the neighbourhood kids.  Also had my pick of beds to sprawl on, plus of course my desk was ready and waiting in mom’s office. Had plenty of water to slurp. Mom had also stocked up on some delicious stuff that Alpha added to my food each night, just to make sure I gobbled it all up and did not pull any fussy Fudge stunts.

The first few days I just sort of relaxed and lay around. Snoozing. Making up for the dreadful early mornings.

Then it started to get a tad boring, so I did some decorating. Rearranged the bedding on Luan’s bed. In fact, I tried out the bed. Was a cold rainy day and I thought why ever not. Climbed under the duvet and rolled around a bit. Snuggled down and had my own furry self a good sized nap.

Luckily for Alpha the weekend fell in the middle of mom’s away patch. Just as I was planning some serious mischief – he stayed home. Even took me for a walk in the veld like we normally do and we played ball.

As an extra treat he took me for a drive to visit the place where he does his Professor Pants work. He’d forgotten something in his office.

Alpha went back to work again and mom was still not home. This was getting a bit much. Found some nice choccy stashed on mom’s side of the headboard. Yum. Even the cardboard tasted good. Ate it all. Paper too. Those people who say chocolate is bad for dogs are wrong. It’s very good.

Found Alpha’s woolly hat. Slobbered on it. Moved it to the bottom of the bed. Figured it would be a bit mean to chew it because he’s very fond of that hat in the winter.  Thought he might see it as a warning. But when he got home he just plonked it back on the headboard. Think he was missing mom too.

After a lot of days – nine in fact – I’d had enough. More than enough. Had just schlepped the woolly hat off to Luan’s room to do some serious damage when I heard mom’s car. Ran downstairs. Oh pooh! Just Alpha.

But wait… sniffed the air… sniffed some more. Mom! That sneaky woman was crouching around the corner. Was so pleased to see her I knocked her flat and covered her face with slobbery kisses.

My mom was home.

Can we open the box mom? Can we? Can we open the box?

Remember last week I told you that they came home with a box?

Mom put the box down on the chair that Alpha always sits on. Eyed it out for a moment then bounded into the kitchen expecting a little treat of some sort – seeing as they had been out without me – shopping.

Rats! Said Mom. We didn’t do that sort of shopping Fudgie. She groveled around in the fridge and came out with a nice piece of ham. Yum.

Shhhht – she said – don’t tell Alpha I’m giving you his fancy sarmie ham!

Scarfed it down quick before he caught me.

Watched her unpacking the bags to check that she wasn’t pulling the fur over my eyes and fibbing about the stuff that they bought. She wasn’t.

Wandered back into the lounge. Alpha had taken the box off his chair and put it on the floor.

Sniffed it. Hmmm… what’s in it? A pressie for me? Something to chew maybe?

Mom foofled around a lot and eventually I lost interest. Flung myself down on the grass in the shade, next to my balls.

Much later she called me. Want to come and see what’s in the box Fudges?

Like duh!

Dashed up. She slit the lid open. I peeked inside. Nosed around a bit. Looked a bit dodgy.

She reached in and hauled out a long snakey thing. It flapped and wiggled on the carpet.

Noooo…. I leapt back in alarm.

She took the rest of the thing out of the box and held it on her lap. Clearly she was very impressed with it.

Oh look how small and cute it is – she said to Alpha (who’s not really listening because he’s busy playing poker on his laptop).

Mom stroked it lovingly then gave it a hug.

Oi! Gave her a dirty look. I’m the one who gets the strokes and hugs around here!

She connected up all the stuff.

Was not liking the look of this. Not at all. Retreated to the other side of the carpet.

She pressed a button and a bit of the thing popped open. Mom made more admiring noises.

Let’s see how it works Fudges. (She’s back to talking to me now because Alpha is seriously ignoring her).  

She plugged it in.  Pushed the little button…

Oh my woggledy whiskers! It’s a smaller version of the yellow slurpy thing but it makes even more noise.

Aaaaargghhhh – it’s horrible. Turn it off.

But Mom was merrily vacuuming up everything in sight. Caught Alpha’s eye and saw him wince – probably hard to concentrate with a raging cyclone noise in his ears.

Went back outside and watched from a distance.

Eventually she switched it off. Made more oohey and aaahey noises when she discovered that if she pushed another button the machine ate up the electrical cord. Turned out the pipes slotted in neatly at the back of the little machine too. No propping needed.

Suppose I should be thankful for small mercies – at least they can’t fall down and attack me like the other pipes used to.

Ghah! If I was a boy dog could at least have showed my disdain and widdled on the box!

I hate baths!

I’ve had better weekends I can tell you.

It started off quite finely. Woke mom up at the crack of dawn – needed a widdle desperately. 

Sheesh Fudges… she whinged at me all the way down the stairs – don’t you know it’s Saturday?

Looked at her.

So… what’s your point?

 I like Saturdays – we go walk in the veld. I might see Benji. There may be extra-large blobs of hadedah poop to roll in.  Get up already – let’s go.

She opened the door for me and stumbled back to bed. Must admit, it was still darkish so perhaps she had a small point.

A few hours later we did go for a walk and I did see Benji but that meanie old Alpha would not let me off-lead. Just because I showed some other mutt my fangs a few weeks ago.

Anyway – after our walk and breakfast, they abandoned me and went out. Came back with all sorts of stuff – including a great big box. (That’s next week’s story.)

On Sunday – was slumbering peacefully – half in my baskie and half out. Mom got out of bed early and tripped over my fine furry bod. She woke me up.

Looked at her crossly. How rude! It’s Sunday. I’m having a lie in.

She smirked. Deal with it Fudges! Then she made so much noise Alpha and I had a hard time getting back to sleep. Swear she brushed her teeth extra loud just to irritate the furry knickers off me.

We went off for another walk. Alpha also freely whinging about being woken up so early.  Have to say though, it was a beautiful day and if we don’t go early – it gets too hot.

Later on mom and I were on the stoep. I was stretched out tanning my tum in the sun.  She looked at me… scratched my ear with her toe and exclaimed – that’s a good idea!

What? Raised an eyebrow at her. What’s a good idea?

Come on then.  She leapt up and dashed upstairs. I traipsed after her.

What?

Do you know what that skanky woman’s good idea was? A bath! For me! She knows I hate baths. Baths are for sissies. Give me a decent river any day but I don’t like baths. Feh!

Best I could do was try and escape. Managed to drench her and the bathroom in the process. I probably weigh about half as much as she does, but she’s a tough old bird when she wants to be.  She hefted me back into the bath and showered the shampoo off both of us.

Waited until I was good and sopping then gave one moerse shake. Water and hair went flying everywhere. Mom gave me the evil eye.

You are a wicked girl Fudges!

She tried to towel me off whilst I was still in the bath but heh heh… my sneakiness knows no bounds. I escaped again.

Slid around the bathroom floor, shook two million hairs onto every available surface.  She had no choice but to open the door.

I eyed their bed.

Don’t you even think about it, she said in her meaniest voice.

Skidded round the corner and down the stairs, Mom hot on my paws with the towel.

Dashed outside and… rolled on the grass. Hah! That will teach you to bath Miss Fudgie-Wena!

Must admit though… it was nice and cool.

Hah! Now I have BOTH balls!

You all know that I am perhaps a little besotted with balls… (hang on – have to give mom a dirty look here – she’s making rude pffft bwahahahahah noises.)

As I was saying… yes – I am rather partial to my balls.

What kind of balls I hear you ask?

Well – anything that is round and rolls. Okay – scratch that – anything that rolls and bounces would probably be more accurate.

You’ve often read how I greet Alpha with a ball in my chops each evening when he comes home. But you may be wondering exactly what type of ball game it is that we play in our tiny garden each night (and sometimes with sucky mom during the day).

You need two tennis balls.  Does not matter if they still have the yellow hair on or not – as long as they bounce.

Once we’ve groveled my balls out from under the couch, Alpha stands on the edge of the stoep holding both balls. Then he lobs one at the wall. I charge off down the garden – ready to launch into one of my intrepid leaps to catch the ball midair.  I turn in a flash and drop the ball – more or less at his feet.

Or so I thought.

Noooo – he says, bring it closer.

Lazy sod! Why can’t he walk a few steps? He points at the ground right next to his toe.

I pick up the ball and toss it in that direction. Then whirl back towards the wall ready to execute my next zooty midair catch.

But I’m still hearing NOOOOO reverberating in my ears and it turns out he’s not satisfied with the positioning of the ball. Turn back – snatch the ball in my fearsome fangs and hurl it onto the pathway so it rolls right up to his foot.

Then he tosses the ball in his hand and picks up the one on the ground.

He throws the ball nice and hard so it hits the wall with a resounding thwack and bounces off at one hellva speed. (This is where mom is quite sucky – she can’t throw it so hard.) Sometimes I do catch it midair, other times I miss and have to chase all over the garden before I catch that little sucker.

After about five or six of these hard throws I get a tad tired, so employ my delaying tactics. It’s not that I’m finished playing yet – just need a bit of a rest.

Once I’ve caught the ball I run back to where Alpha’s standing and do what mom calls my “dancing pig” move. This entails waggling my bum and turning in circles. Obviously the ball in still in my mouth.

Or I stand still, chomping on the ball, and wait for Alpha to tell me at least four times to DROP!

We stare at each other.

Drop the ball Fudges! He says in his Professor Pants tone.

I look at him. Can’t smile because my chops are full of slobbery ball. Wag my tail instead.

How about asking me nicely?

Drop! He says again.

Hmmm… what about a Please Ms Fudgie Wena may I have the ball? Tsk Tsk. No manners.

He gives me the evil eye and points at his toe. His foot is starting to tap tik-tik-tik on the ground…

I wiggle my butt some more. Just before he gets miffed and stomps off, I toss the ball – it rolls to a stop perfectly at his feet and we resume play.

Ghah! I was swindled.

You know how we go walking in the veld over the weekend… the same place where we see the little snack barking in the drain pipe and bump into that mischievous Benji the Basset every now and then. Well last week we had more fun and games…

Some large scary looking mutts were walking off leash so we decided to take a bit of a detour – down the road and around some houses. Then we’d hook back into the veld area. We were hoping that the unruly hounds would have loped off in a different direction by then.

We are all supposed to walk on leashes in that veld area, but sometimes there is nobody else about so I run free. Not that I run much, but I do get to play some quality ball on the big open veld.  Even get to chase some hadedahs too. They fly up into the trees and sit there yakking, yelling and complaining their heads off. Me and Benji are buddies – we socialize every now and then too… you know… sniff each other’s butts and have the odd snarl. Once Benji howled at me when he thought I’d gone too far. That rude mom cracked up laughing.

Anyway… as we got off the road, back onto the veld area – Alpha tossed my ball – nice and high it went – whooshing through the air.  I went whizzing after it.  It whistled through some trees and suddenly dropped like a stone to the ground, very nearly bashing my brains out. (See how speedy I am?) I screeched to a halt and checked it out.

Odd. Did not look like my ball at all. In fact, it did not smell like my ball either. Clearly, in fact, it wasn’t my ball.  Looked around carefully. What shifty sod was sneakily tossing missiles at me from behind the fence? Could see nothing. Not a single thing.

Turns out my real ball had actually only just hit the earth, several more dog bounds away. Dashed over and retrieved my property.

Alpha and mom wandered up to inspect the pretend ball and started laughing. Turns out that Alpha managed to knock an avo out of a tree when he threw my ball.

Haven’t a cooking clue what an avo is, but he was pretty impressed with his own self – reckoned if he tried to do it again for the next half an hour he’d never ever get it right. He picked up the odd ball and put it in his pocket.

Thought that was most ill-mannered, seeing as it had almost brained me. I should have been allowed to play with it first.

Was still having a quiet sulk when the huge critters scampered up from nowhere. Mom slapped the leash on me quick chop-chop.  She doesn’t fancy me being breakfast for some meanie mongrel. Alpha put my slobbery ball back into his other pocket.

Looked at him. WHAT? No more ball? But we just started. Give me the green thing then.

He shook his head – sorry Fudges – that’s going on my sarmies when it ripens up a bit.

Ghah! Stalked off in a huff.  Clearly I’d been swindled.