I knew it, and didn’t I say I knew it beforenows…and didn’t I say, beforenows, I told yuz so?
Mister Park is sitting before his shiny stainless-steel drinking bowl – ‘cept it ain’t so shiny no more. Puke-coloured scratch furs are everywhere. He eyeballs the hard evidence, eyeballs Profit&Loss and eyeballs Sherbet, wot sitting on the stairs, head deliberately turned away.
The bowl is whipped away, washed in the sink, and replaced brimming with cold clean water. Mister Park immediately slurps fast before any other nasty surprises.
“notsofast,Jindywindy” Loss scolds him “you’llmakeamess”
Me? slurp slurp slurp Mess?
Sherbet swivels its head and observes him between the bannisters. Waiting.
Stare, why don’t yu he barks yu guilty party, yu!
“MISTERPARK!” a cuff across the earflaps “don’tupsetSherbet,she’sdelicate!”
For pity’s sakes, this is outrageous
Mister Park is dragged off the tatami mat by his lead, butt sliding across the parquet flooring, sliding ‘round the corner, and sliding into the living room. Bang! Frosted glass door slams behind him.
Mister Park pushes his snout against the glass, watching developments. The fuzzy outline of Sherbet slinking down the stairs, rubbing its nasty self on the bannister railings, and disappearing towards Mister Park’s bowls.
I protest! he squidgies his snout against the glass hello! Hello anyone? I protest
From the kitchen the scratch-like slurping begins.
Time is always nows with fourlegs. Beforenows, nows, and futurenows – don’t matter in wot order, coz time is always in the heres and nows.
And after a long time of the heres and nows, the glass door to the living room reopens and Mister Park is off his favorite chair, skittering across the parquet, ‘round the bannisters, and into the kitchen. Where his stainless-steel bowls are no longer so stainless. Moving unseen behind him Sherbet heads to the living room.
Back down the hallway, scrubbing off speed at the bannister turn, and sliding back into the living room. And there sits Sherbet, puke-coloured and pleased with itself. In his chair.
Mister Park licks his snout and starts trembling.
Now look here, Sherbet…
Sherbet is looking elsewhere and Mister Park pads forward.
We share this houseden together
A clock ticks tocks on the mantlepiece and Mister Park rests his snout on the cushion of his favorite chair.
..and must reach an agreement based on mutual respect
The fridge whirrs from the kitchen and Mister Park nudges Sherbet with his snout
..to sustain a long-lasting pea– Arrrrrgh!
Sherbet carves a bloody scratch from one side of his Jindo snout to the other.
“MISTERPARKS!” heavy footsteps and Mister Parks is being dragged away by his collar “toldyou,leavethatpoorcatalone”
I’m gonna tear yor earflaps off, one by one, so yu can hears me doing it! Missy Biscuits barks at the black scratch lurking in the bushes. A coiled spring of dark, evil energy waiting its chance.
“oh,comeoneMissy,leaveitalone” Tony whines.
A grey furrylegs, wotz bouncing along the grass, immediately catches the scratch’s interest. Scratch bursts out in chase. The furrylegs is halfway up the marker post and sitting on a branch before the scratch gets anywhere near it.
Don’t matter – Missy targets black scratch out in the open, exposed and vulnerable. The hunter becomes the hunted. Payback.
She dashes hard and fast, whipping the lead from Tony’s handpaw. This in itself is dangerous, Tony being off the lead and out of control, lyk, but wot to do –
In five bounds she’s right up behind the black scratch and chomping down before mammal even knows wotz hit it. Scratch being scratch, corss, it defies gravity and leaps vertical up the marker post, Missy holding onto it for good measure. Grey furrylegs, flaplegs and all other assorted wildlife scattering every which way. Scratch scrabbles straight up.
Missy lets go and drops to earth before she ends up stuck in the branches. A fuzz of black fur between her teeth.
She trots back to Tony, well pleased with herself. Tony, handpaw empty, mouth open, speechless. Missy reverts to fourlegs cuddly mode, rolling upside down, all four toes in the air. Tony automatically starts tickling her belly.
Thing about Tony is, he’s controllable.
Well impressive barks Donuts, who just happens to be trotting by towards Tesco Extra.
Snifz yu, Donuts Missy barks back.
They bump snoutz and wag butts.
Need a right hard Losehead, if yu wants the job he suggests.
Yu mean prop?
Yeah, or Tighthead if yu prefer, but I had Drizzle in mind for that
Yu also mean prop?
Yeah. Yu knows yor rugby then, Missy?
I’m an Australian Shepherd coz that’s all the explanations needed thanks for the offer, but I’m sure yu boys will sort itYeah, corss Donuts pulls Wynn away, eager to get to Tesco Extra and thems five bins ‘round back.
Missy watches Donuts waddle off, laying down a small squirtz on top of his before she leads Tony towards home snout up Tony and best footpaw forward
Choosing not to eyeball the black scratch desperately clinging to the highest branch up the marker post, she leads Tony towards home.
Laters kitty she chuckles.
The clouds are minding their own business and being dragged off, all noisy, someplace else. That’s good news for Donuts who knows Wynn can’t be assed to go walkies in the rainlick. As it happens, Wynn’s wobbling along lyk a good’n behind Donuts, carrying the well-chewed rugby ball.
Ah, better out than in Donuts squirtz the exact corner point of Nelson Avenue and Aspen Drive.
He can snifz Tuffy, Drizzle and GitOrrf!, hanging ‘round abouts outside Tesco Extra. His forward pack. First things first, he’s gotta lose Wyn for a bit.
Donuts hauls Wynn into Herdwick pooping park. Although Wynn is only hindlegs, he’s still got enough intellectuals to realise that Herdwick pooping park is where Donuts helps him perfect his drop-kicking techniques.
Wynn drop kicks the ball deep into the park, Donuts tearing after it in his waddling see-saw trot.
Donuts does just that. He passes by the ball and see-saws into the distance, right out the park altogether.
“wotabouttheconversion?” Wyn scritches after him.
Snifz yu Dongnuts Tuffy jumps up, bumping snouts.
Right then fellas, who’s here? Donuts bumps snouts and snifz butts in no particular order shout it out!
Drizzle says Drizzle.
Tuffy says Tuffy.
GitOrrf! says GitOrrf!
Sausage says Sausage.
Who? Says Donuts.
Me. Sausage. Coz wot I heard is, is there’s gonna be some right hard scratch action, init? So, I wanted in…lyk
Uh-huh? Donuts sizes up the small and very elongated Dachshund sez who?
Sez this lot, Fudge, One Ear and Charly, ‘im, and ‘im, and ‘im Sausage paws at each of the fours in turn that’s who sez who
Ain’t yur name Drizzle? Tuffy queries Drizzle, whose real name is Fudge.
Erh, and ain’t yur name One Ear? GitOrrf! queries One Ear, whose real name is Tuffy.
And how in dog’s name did yu get to be called Charly? growls Donuts to Gitorrf!, whose real name is Charly, actually, but not a lot of muttwits know that.
That’s who, who sez who Sausage answers Donuts’ original question. The dachshund strikes a pose and puts on his bestest mutt face let’s go serve thems scratch gobshites somervit!