Welcome to another blisteringly cheerful day in Westley Piddle, all fourlegs noshing themselves silly. Including Bananas the happy yellow Pug, and Paddles the neon pink Chow Chow. Fourlegs all living the life. Hundred percent bang on perfect… and it ain’t even rainlicking!
A particularly cheerful day in Westley Piddle, that unexpected little town on the Thameslick between Bisham and Cock Marsh. Hindlegs are up and wobbling about, scritching good mornings to everything and anything; scratch are lazily licking their murderous long scratchy paws and planning global domination; flaplegs are flapping ‘round abouts everywhere in a blitzkrieg of poop. Life as normal.
Fourlegs, not to be outdone in this struggle of cheerful bon hommie, add their daily morsel of intellectuals to the cacophony –
Another day, same poop
And yuz can shuddup an’ all
Oi, trot over here and bark that!
All in all, it’s another particularly dogs-dinner day of unbearable cheerfulness.
Paddles the overweight Chow Chow wears his cheerfulness beneath a neon pink-coloured fluffy hide. Newly sprayed, his snout twitching in mild allergies, and getting last minute touches from Lavinka before his presentation to the pedestrians in the big city – West Pid. that is. She combs his fur over and over til static makes it stand on end in a big electric pink fuzz. Lavinka then ties a Union Jack bandana ‘round his large neck, completing the look with a pair of gold-tinted aviator shades squashed over his small eyeholes. Paddles is transformed into a teddy-bear Elvis Presley, standing foursquare with black tongue clenched between teeth, quietly enduring this ritual of tender loving care.
I think I wanna vomit
“suchabigbeautiful,brightdoggy” scritches Lavinka the busker, known as Squeezy to the intimates – coz of the accordion she squeezes in and out, this way and that. She grabs his snout in her handpaw and eyeballs him in his huge, frizzy face “rememberPaddles,pedestrianswholovedoggy,lovegivingmoney”
Paddles is not sure wot money is but pedestrians sure love throwing little metal things at him when Squeezy starts some squeezy-stretchy action on the accordion and Paddles sits looking lyk a furry rockstar.
Can we go now?
Downstairs and ‘round back of the apartments, Paddles enjoys the first squirtz of the morning as Squeezy unplugs the mowta and growls it out of the lock-up into the early light of day.
That’s better Paddles lifts a fluffy pink rear leg and lets go a solid stream.
To be specific the mobility scooter don’t actually growl coz it’s electric. Instead, it whines at a high-pitch wot makes Paddle’s short thick earflaps vibrate.
“comeon,then” and Paddles hops into the space between Squeezy’s footpaws “andlet’sgiveitsomeBoyGeorge”
And off they whine towards West Pid. town center.
Dessert loving in yur eyes all the waaay
They whine off from the lock-up and turn onto the pavement of Hazlehurst Road.
..a man without conviiiic-tion
Odds and sods hindlegs are wobbling out the way of the trundling mowta scritching Boy George – Paddles pushing his pink frizzy face into the gentle wind. The round hot ball, wotz only just been thrown up in the sky, reflecting off his gold-tinted shades.
…yor wicked words every daaay
Squeezy mowtas towards Short Cut, that stretch of pedestrians-only pavement where all the clothfurs shops are and wot only hindlegs are allowed to wobble about on; wotz a short cut between the High Street and Nelson Avenue.
..Karma, karma, karma, karma, kar–
The mowta stops whining. Boy George stops scritching. Paddles leaps off and starts sniffing the street.
Squeezy unclips her accordion, sticking a large paint bucket on the pavement and unfolding the tartan blanket. She sits on the upturned paint bucket and Paddles sits on the blanket. Squeezy starts stretching some dog-damn awful wheezy noises and Paddles takes a deep breath. Let the day begin. Let the pedestrians come and throw thems little metal things.
“oneforyou” Oskar scritches softly at Bananas “andoneforme”
How abouts one for yu and two for me? Bananas the young fawn-coloured Pug sez to Oskar.
The little hindlegs boy is from Estonia – wot is somewhere just outside Westly Piddle, according to Bananas –sticking his spoon into the wonderfully-sniffy peanut butter and not quite decided who’s going to get the next mouthful. Bananas lifts her flat snout to the spoon and opens her chops and decides it for him there and then.
That’ll be mine, I reckon she licks the contents off the spoon. The next spoonful follows the same route as the last – straight down her nosh hole.
Bananas knows that nosh is never more than a snifz away from her chops in the Rebane houseden. In fact she is one of the few fourlegs in all Westley Piddle wotz not constantly hungry – well, not constantly – nosh being always licked off spoon, handpaw, or from the floor.
Liisa, Oskar’s older sister, enjoys pickles and smoked fish – fishes are good for Bananas.
Then there’s Arjom, his older brother, wot enjoys cheeseburgers and fries – cheeseburgers are good for Bananas.
And, there’s packdad wot lyks all sorts of nosh but don’t lyk sticking it anywhere, ‘cept down his own little nosh hole. This unnatural behaviour is a work in progress for Bananas. Finally there’s packmommy who don’t lyk much of anything and who certainly don’t lyk sticking nosh down Bananas’ anytime. That’s also a WIP. But, at least the three pups lyk sticking nosh down Bananas nosh hole and that’s a fine start. All in all a sort of C+ houseden according to the fawn-coloured Pug, suggesting a lot of improvement room for canine welfare.
Bananas languidly burps don’t let that remaining peanut butter go to waste in the jar, Oskar – Oskar?
But Oskar is already wobbling out into the hallway and pulling on his footpaw covers along with his brother and sister.
Out? We’re trotting out?
Bananas snifz the rising excitement of the three pups whilst eyeballs the cozy temptation of her favorite cushion good noshing also deserves good sleep straight afters, don’t it?
Before she can happily trot towards her cushion Arjom sweeps Bananas up in his handpaws “nicewalkies” he softly scritches in her black earflap “beforefeedingtime”
Can’t argue with that, s’pose Bananas licks her chops. Even so she turns large black wistful eyeballs towards her cushion and the unfinished jar of peanut butter on the kitchen table. The front door opens.
Alright, let’s make it a short walkies before nosh then, please!
The door shuts in a clatter of footsteps.
Squeezy squiiiz, squeezy, squiiiz the accordion stretches this way and that in endlessly awful noises.
Squeezy’s handpaws are stretching in and out in and out. Paddles sits perfectly still behind his gold-tined shades, eyeballing wotz going on up and down Short Cut. The squeezy noises are plain horrid but the pedestrians must be loving it coz they keep throwing little metal things.
Not at me he snorts to me, on the tartan!
Snifz yu, Paddles Gitorrf! trots up and bumps snoutz.
Clear off, I’m performing
Oh! GitOrrf! sez well impressed but not clearing off.
The squeezy noises get louder and uglier.
Squeezy don’t lyk interruptions
Wot comes between the artist and thems pedestrians
Gitorrf! don’t know any pedestrians – perhaps they are a bit lyk hindlegs or some sort of scratch who only live in Short Cut. Wotever! All he can snifz are hindlegs wobbling about carrying paper bags full of nosh from the coffee shops.
Brekkers? suggests GitOrrf!, the sniffy paper bags reminding him he’s hungry, again.
Don’t be a muttwit, I’m working, init sighs Paddles but, if yu snifz any of thems sausage rolls then bring us some, know wot I mean?
Righty ho the thought of sausage rolls, wotz part of Greggs all day brekkers, compels GitOrrf! to stick one furry paw in front of the other and wander off following his snout towards his standard morning nosheries. He is a Border Terrier after all with a snout fully trained to snifz out all sorts of noshing potentials.
Squeezy squiiiz, squeezy, squiiiz awful noises chase him up Short Cut.
A pedestrian stops wobbling, ohs and ahhs and throws a bit of metal at paddles.
Not at me – to me, on the tartan!
Paddles snoutz the metal – there’s brekkers snifz rubbed onto it from the hindlegs handpaw. He stands up, eyeballing Squeezy. She stops her squeezing, struggles up from the paint pot, stretches and wobbles over to the mowta.
Paddles licks his chops.
Squeezy returns with a plastic bag and lays out two bowls on the pavement. One for biscuits and the other for waterlick. Brekkers interlude.
Biscuits are good an’ all chomps Paddles, snout buried in his bowl but sausage rolls is waaay better dreamily sniffing Greggs up the High Street.
Squeezy squiiiz, squeezy, squiiiz
Ffff! Here we go again!
As it happens, another pedestrian wotz wobbling along don’t lyk the squeezy squiiizy sounds, either.
“nonsense,nonsense,nonsense” the pedestrian scritches at Squeezy, waving a handpaw towards Paddles.
Ain’t me wotz doing the squeezings, izit!
“mydog!” scritches Squeezy “Icanpainthimpink,ifIwant,anycolourIwant,okay?”
“nonsense,nonsense,nonsense” the pedestrian scritches aggressively and making Paddles nervous.
Maybe this pedestrian needs a bit of submitting! But it soon wobbles away and, wotz more, don’t even throw any metal bits.
“nexttime,he’llhaveglitter-sprayedballs” scritches Squeezy after the pedestrian “that’sright,glittered!”
Glittered? Paddles turns towards Squeezy balls?