Hello juicy puddings Three Legs lurches up to Foxy behind the bars wot a pleasant surprise
Hello Checkers she shakes earflaps to compose herself andbumps snoutz still one corner missing then?
Just the one, last time I sniffed
Yu chummy with this muttwit, then? comes a voice from the back of the cage Foxy’s been dragged into. She turns to face Missy Biscuits and bumps snoutz.
Foxy shrugs Checkers and me goes back aways
Thought that mammal’s name woz ThreeLegs?
Checkers? Well yeah, that’s after he got wacked by a longlegs and lost a corner
Right – he best stick some chuddies over that stump. Not decent trotting abouts waving a stump and Missy immediately vomits.
Anyways continues Foxy nows it seems he’s working for Freddy at Freddy’s Farm for strays
Wotz in charge of guest comforts, lyk ThreeLegs butts in, proudly.
Missy dismisses him, licks up her vomit and then eyeballs Foxy.
Nows then she sez to the little Pomeranian we’re in a bit of a chunder, ain’t we?
Foxy takes in the ripe-sniffing tiled cage, the other fourlegs lying in a listless heap, and the heavily bolted door. Think so? she snifz casually at the bolt leave it to me, darlin’
Foxy sticks her snout through the bars right then Checkers get this open and, as the shepherd sez to his dog, let’s get the flock outer here
ThreeLegs shakes his earflaps erh, can’t do that Foxy, my plum. Love to, mind. Just that – it’ll get meself into poop loadsa trouble with Freddy
Not so much trouble as when Duncan gets holda yuz, yuz limbless muttwit Missy growls, hoping that GitOrrf! has gone and done wot he’s supposed to have got gone and done.
Wot happens happens they all turn to stare at the dachshund shivering in the corner, forgotten and forlorn, earflaps brushing the floor tiles.
ThreeLegs squidgies his face into the grill, barring fangs Oi! Wot yu doing in there? Yor not a female…
Then open the cage for him, oh great mind Missy encourages.
Even if I wanted to, wot I don’t – not for yuz anyways, I don’t have thems necessary appendages for it…the toes, lyk he eyeballs the dachshund suspiciously.
Story of my life the dachshund commiserates.
Don’t yu go touching thems ladies ThreeLegs warns I’ll be back with Freddy and get yu stuffed in with thems other swinging mutts
ThreeLegs turns to go.
Thank yu Checkers Foxy sez softly and good to bump snoutz again
Really? ThreeLegs stands a bit taller, hairy plum bobs all squishy squashing as he lurches away.
Wot yu see in that streetlegs, beats me Missy flunks down in despair, snout on floor.
Wot Checkers? Just coz he’s un-cornered don’t make him so bad she follows him out with her snout he’s just had a tough break and she recalls the snifz of close encounters with him many summers beforenows when all four paws were fully accounted for.
Foxy turns to Missy and the other fourlegs, flashing her little teeth, the perfect plan forming crystal between her earflaps right then, girls…
The clouds noisily whooshing about all day are nows green-sniffing with rainlick. GitOrrf! don’t understand why hindlegs never appear to know when green-sniffing rainlick is close by. Fourlegs snifz it a dozen squirtz or so before it starts falling out the sky.
KFC chicken and rice combo is the noshing menu for today and, after three squirtz worth of time noshing it, GitOrrf! is about stuffed enough to follow Duncan’s instructions to the letter.
Wot are – ?
Find Henry coz he’s the only fourlegs wot knows the whereabouts of Freddy’s Farm
Finding Henry is easy coz he dens nearby. But, approaching Henry is not easy. The young English Mastiff is the strongest fourlegs in Westley Piddle. He’s blue purply-sniffy bad. Just that he’s a bit uber-violent on occasions.
Henry lives in a backyard with a fence low enough for him to trot over and go sniffing ‘round abouts whenever the fancy takes. Mostly, that means trotting over and starting a bit of heavy submitting on any fourlegs that are muttwit enough to pass right by his houseden.
Living all his life out on the streets GitOrrf! appreciates wot fourlegs deserve a friendly snoutz bumping and thems wot don’t. But some fourlegs are just too red-sniffy crazy for anything ‘cept to be greeted with immediate roll-over-in-submission mode, all four paws thrust up. A red-sniffy crazy fourlegs lyk Henry.
Ho there Henry, snifz yu?
The sound of something big and heavy rising up from slumber behind a low wooden fence overgrown with hogweed and dandelions.
Henry, it’s me, GitOrrf!
Approaching thump of heavy paws becomes a massive head appearing over the hedge. Deep brown eyes blazing, snout holes flared, goo dribbling, heavy mass bulging out the hedge.
SUBMIT! Henry roars.
Henry, it’s me–
Okays I’m submitting GitOrrf! instantly rolls over, all paws sticking up.
How much more submitting do yu want me to do?
Rainlick bounces off Henry’s solid head, eyeballs rolling, licking his chops, sniffing the air.
The madness quickly passes and Henry cocks his head to one side helloo down there, snifz yu?
Yeah, snifz yu, too
GitOrrf! leaps up, shakes himself and they bump snoutz.
How yu doing Henry?
Not so bad
We need yur help
Duncan, me… and Missy Biscuits
Do tell Henry’s head pushes through, dividing the hedge in two.
Duncan snifz PC Andersen packleader long before he opens the door to the pound. Wobbling behind him is Spinsterpackmate scritching nonsense
All snifz are colour to Duncan and Spinsterpackmate is drenched in Foxy’s pleasant orange-yellow colours beneath her own nervous purple red-snifz. His earflaps prick up, alert to possible troubles.
PC Andersen unlocks the door “outyoucome,Duncanmate,there’sagoodboy”
He applies a leash to his work harness “worktime!”
“Foxynonsense,Foxynonsense” Spinsterpackmate keeps up her scritching, waving handpaws and flinging colour all abouts.
Wotz that purple-sniffer jawing on about? Shadow grunts from his cage.
Snifz of trouble replies Jax wot d’yu think Duncs?
Don’t pay me to think, do theys? Duncan growls softly, stepping out of his cage but for free, I think Foxy’s in trouble
“Don’tyouworry,wewillfindFoxy” PC Andersen is scritching.
Duncan trots along beside PC Andersen. Snout holes open to all the wonderful colours of Westley Piddle. The vibrant orange yellow marker snifz of fourlegs splashed on every lamp post. Sour blue purply-snifz of scratch sitting abouts where they shouldn’t. Scavenging red purply-snifz of tiny legs with their big teeth and ropey tails scurrying under the bins. Only the spindlylegs are without colour, milling ‘round abouts beneath the pavements – his paws can feel their tappety, tappety vibrations. Beyond the continuous hissing roundlegs on the rainlick roads, he cocks earflaps to catch several ongoing conversations between fourlegs across town to the east.
Keep the hell away from my butt
Yeah, and I’ll bite yuz
Step up then!
And cocking earflaps to the west.
Oh-oh, snifz that! Duncan’s out and abouts
Check out those sniffy sweet orange bins ‘round back of Tesco Extra
Higgins packmate, Higgins packmaaaaate. Hellooo? Yu locked me outside again
Fur slick with rainlick, Duncan resists the urge to head for the nearest shelter, curl up and go to sleep, lyk any sensible fourlegs would. This is the trouble with being a PD service fourlegs. There’s no time to do right proper things lyk nosh, sleep and poop whenever nature insists. At least he can squirtz at will, but only quickly, and never in the police howling roundlegs. Nevertheless, PD Duncan takes it all in his trot. Dispassionate. All wotz needed to be a PD on the force.
They soon arrive at the spot where Foxy got whisked off. Spinsterpackmate is at it again, tearlicks dripping from her eyeballs and scritching “oh,oh,ohFoxynonsense,nonsense,nonsense!”
Duncan snifz about the whisking spot. Licking the pavement and tasting Foxy’s overpowering yellow marker, all mixed together with the red purply colour of her outrage, dismay, fear. PC Andersen gives Duncan his lead to go sniffing further along the gutter. Lightly brushing his snout this way and that he soon detects the faintest trace of an orange lust snifz.
Could it be..? he snifz again, licking the spot to make sure.
Yeah! he licks, recognising the mug wot whisked away Foxy I knows yu, don’t I?
A particular red-snifz that can only belong to one nasty hindlegs from one nasty place! He turns a tight circle and adds a short squirtz of his own.
Confirmed! Freddy whisked Foxy he barks at PC Andersen.
Freddy whisked Foxy
Freddy. Whisked. Foxy.
PC Andersen is a bit of a simple mammal. But wot more can yu expect from a mammal with only two legs!
Freddy whisked Foxy, and – ah, forget it, we need to cock a leg, and fast!
Duncan drags at his lead, forcing PC Andersen in the direction of Freddy’s Farm.
Freddy’s got Foxy and I knows where he tugs harder in heavylegs poop country, far side of the Thameslick
Nah, wasting the day, init – corss I’m onto something!
Duncan appreciates PC Andersen can only understand simple directions. Freddy’s Farm is a long sniff ways off. And only the police howling roundlegs can save Foxy before time trots out.
Right! Nows yor barking
Thing about hindlegs is, keep showing thems wot to do and eventually the biscuit drops into the bowl.