NUTZ & BOLTZ – PART 3

Saturday and the Herdwick Primary School and Kindergarten is open for the cup’n’cake bake. Packmoms are bringing their cakes to sell from small tables set up outside the school gates. Snifz of freshly baked cakes heaped up on every table is drifting across the park in a dazzling orange haze – wotz attracting fourlegs from all over the big city of West Pid.

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As it happens, Duncan is also doing his professional best to shut both snout holes to all the other orange-sniffy delights whooshing up and down the High Street – the midday snifz of biryani from the Star of India, Greggs toasted sandwiches, and Chuckle’s Chippy’s fried fritters.

So far this morning his community meet and greet is ticking off all the right noshing opportunities. That’s one sausage from the butchers, half a turkey bacon melt from Subway, some left over Vindaloo that PC Andersen packleader didn’t catch him eating, and, thems kebab slices from the Istanbool take-away.

Constructive morning of community police work noshing is wot it all is

Duncan notices that PC Andersen’s snout is working overtime from all the snifz down at the cup’n’cake bake.

More important police work noshing, incoming

He stops and squirts on the railings outside the Pig & Ferret.  Pc Andersen gives him the hard eyeball.

When yu gotta go, yu gotta go

“comeonmate,can’tsithereallday” PC Andersen starts scritching at Halfleg, wotz sitting on a cardboard mat outside the pub “yougottamoveon,sir”

“whyshouldI?” Halfleg scritches defensively “usedtoliveinarealhouse,withacar!”

“maybe,butyougottamoveonnow,mate” PC Andersen replies, not unkindly.

 “justgettingmyshitsorted…” Halfleg adjusts himself more comfortably on his cardboard, a can of Bulmers Original Premium Cider rolling ‘round abouts on his lap.

“can’tstayhere,sosorry,okay?”

GitOrrf! Get trotting with that companion o’ yors Duncan orders the small Border Terrier sleeping on the cardboard beside Halfleg.

Leave us alone, we’re resting

No yu ain’t. Trot along, orderly lyk

Nah, it’s a free country!

And what great mind told yu that?

Duncan, yor a wicked tool of the state

‘undred percent, and a hungry one.  So, if yu don’t mind, please trot on before I book yu for obstructing police noshing opportunities

Alright, alright, keep yer collar on, mate

Charly wotz better known as GitOrrf! to the intimates stands up, shakes himself, and starts nudging Halfleg where it has most effect, in his Bulmers Original.

“gotusintrouble,again” Halfleg takes an impossible swing at GitOrrf! with his stumpy leg.

Missed

“uselessbugga” Halfleg takes another swing.

Missed again

PD Duncan – pulling PC Anderson along on his lead, resumes his community meet and greet duties along the High Street, slowly but surely steering their way towards Herdwick pooping park and the inevitable cup’n’cake op.

Walking the mile – and more noshing ops.  Next up, thems purple sniffers

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As it happens, noshing brekkers is the first item on the tip of Mary-A’s snout. Another brekkers, that is.  Followed by lunch wotz second item on her mind.  Trouble is, Smackers don‘t lyk eating.  When she does lyk eating then it ain‘t nothing sensible lyk meat, chicken, liver or cheesburger.  Absolutely not. Only green things.  And the trouble with that is she expects Mary-A to eat green things, too.  Plain fact is Mary-A’s always dog-damn hungry.

I’m hungry Smackers!

Smackers only eats when the bright hot ball is at the top of the sky making everything bright and hot.   Not before.  And very little afters.  But today’s cup’n’cake bake in Herdwick pooping park is the Poodle‘s best chance to snoutz a bit of real nosh.  She’s not gonna miss it for anything. Well, only for Duncan, maybe.

“nopeeingorpooping,mapetiteprincess“

I got nothing in me to pee or poop, Smackers

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While Nutz‘ tummy is being tickled by the pups, flaplegs are tossing ‘round abouts in the sniffy wind. They’re tossing all over the place together with leaves thrown off the marker posts. Nutz knows rainlick is not far away, though he can’t as yet hear any clouds scratching abouts. The green-sniffy air is heavy with it.

Gonna rainlick soon, d’yu know wot I’m sayin‘  he flips up onto all fours making the hindlegs pups scritch in giggles.

There’s only one thing useful about a sniffy wind according to Boltz and that‘s creating piles of leaves wotz perfect for smashing into at full speed in an explosion of twigs, noise and Tommyleg‘s giggles.

Bombs awaaaay! he dives snout first into the nearest pile of leaves and completely disappears.

When he emerges he expects to snifz Tommylegs yellow happiness. Instead, Tommylegs is eyeballing something – and it’s not Boltz.   He ain’t sniffing happy, neither.

Over here, mate he barks at Tommylegs, his snout sniffing trouble before that mushy thinking spot between his earflaps catches up.  Tommylegs is even more distracted. This ain’t normal.  Not at all.

Boltz trots from the pile of leaves and shakes himself down, turning his snout ‘round abouts to locate the troubling snifz.

There it is! 

Something to do with that growling roundlegs down the other end of the park, sleeping on Nelson Avenue.

Snifz yu? he growls a challenge. Nothing happens. Just a roundlegs sleeping by the kerb. He bounces back towards Tommylegs who’s nows licking an icecream.

Icecream! all thoughts of the roundlegs flying right out his earflaps. He races towards it. 

That’s wot we’re talking about Nutz cuts in on him, aiming at the icecream.

Oi, wait yer turn Boltz bumps ahead and setting off a struggle for first licking rights.

Nah, yu wait yors, bruv, know wot I’m sayin‘

The brothers crash into Tommylegs knocking icecream straight off cone and onto the grass.

Tasty innit, bruv Nutz licks it up.

Givvus it me yer nasty gannet Boltz nudges in and starts licking it up lyk a hero.

Tommylegs begins his scritchy wailing, holding up the empty cone to his packmom.

“thereyugo,luvvy“ packmom muscles between the jack Russells trying her best to scoop the remains of the icecream onto the cone.  She thrusts it back into Tommy‘s handpaw, grass bristling from it at all angles.

Waste of good icecream Nutz sighs before trotting off to join in a game of football make way for a legend he barks at the players and get some

Boltz sits on his haunches in front of Tommylegs, his Tommylegs, expecting more icecream.

Down here, mate, waiting

Tommylegs‘ got icecream and grass plastered all over his chops.

Down here, wotz me, ME!  Still waiting patiently

As it happens, the icecream once more tips off the cone, falling towards Boltz head. In a gravity-defying move Boltz twists round in the air, mouth open, four paws whirling, gobbing down icecream and landing safely on the grass.

Bam! licks his chops.

Tommylegs don’t even notice.  He’s back to eyeballing something into the distance again.

This is nows too much for Boltz.

Royt, that’s it!

The Jack Russell breaks off and trots full speed towards the roundlegs at the other end of the park, sitting there and sniffing of real trouble.

Smashed that! having owned the soccer match with his gifted contribution Nutz catches sight of Boltz flying across the park towards Nelson Avenue.

Wotz up, bruv? he chases after him coz this looks lyk a fun game his brother shouldn‘t be keeping all to himself.

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Boltz snifz something is well out of order about that roundlegs. By the time he skids to a stop beside it his hackles are on end. There’s something right nasty inside that roundlegs wotz upsetting Tommylegs. Boltz is determined to sort it out.

Come outta there, butt-licker!

The door to the roundlegs remains firmly closed.  He cannot see inside but he can hear fidgeting and snifz blue-purply rotteness pouring out.

Come out he barks over and over Come out.  Come on out

Nothing happens.

Wotz up bruv? Nutz bounces up beside him.

Come out. Come out Boltz continues.

Wotever, it seems lyk a fun game so Nutz joins in Come out.  Come out yer nasty barking, scratch-licking…

The roundlegs door opens and out steps a very large and blue purply-sniffing hindlegs.  Both fourlegs recoil, falling back onto their haunches.

“clearoff“ the hindlegs scritches at thems “beforeIhurtyers“

Leave Tommylegs alone Boltz barks standing up in front of the hindlegs, feeling no fear and offering a pretty tough eyeball – for a fully grown Jack Russell, that is.

The hindlegs wobbles towards Boltz swinging a kick, wot misses him and catches Nutz on one earflap.

Ouch, yu nasty b–

“toldyus!“ the hindlegs tries stomping on Nutz head, the fourlegs fast-pawing backwards to a safe distance.

Givit some back Boltz encourages his brother put it out there!

I’m a lover not a fighter, bruv Nutz barks out convinced that this is not such a fun game afterall.

Boltz steps in between the hindlegs and his brother try that on someone yer own size, yu sniffy butt li– arghh! and takes a direct kick in the nosh hole for his troubles.

Leave me bruv alone! Nutz roars leaping back to his brother’s defence.

The hindlegs swings another kick and again catches Nutz – this time on his other earflap.

Ouch! Soon gonna be outta earflaps, bruv Nutz screeches in fast retreat.

I’m warning yuz – I’m barking warning yuz Boltz growls

“clearoff,leavemealone“

Let’s trot outta here Boltz decides.

Too right, bruv Nutz limps away we need some heavy bredren to topple this muttwit

Lyk who?

Lyk some right hardcore fourlegs, init, d’yu know wot I’m sayin‘?

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