GIBLETS – PART 2

“what’shisname,then?” dad asks.

Aaron ain’t given it much thought coz he’s been so caught up playing with the pup.  But dad’s right. He does need a name.

“Shepherdman” he states “coz,he’saGermanShepherd” and he lifts the pup under his front legs swinging him from side to side “Shepherdman,Shepherdman,Shepherdman” Aaron scritches.

Shepherdman lyks his name but he’s not so sure about all the swinging about. Aaron carries him, swinging from side to side, back to his bedroom and slams shut the door.

Aaron, I’m hungry he sez to Aaron and thirsty – and I need a squirt

But Aaron is more interested in sitting on his bed and punching one pawfinger into his other handpaw to tell his mates all about the pup.

Aaron, I need a squirt, please

“alright,alightShepherdman,can’tyouseeI’mtexting?”

Shepherdman puts his front paws onto the bed, raises his snout and licks at Aaron’s handpaw.

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Tho’ AndyLegs don’t know about it – and if he did he certainly wouldn’t lyk it – Giblets follows his snout to the fire door of the apartment stairwell, and pushes at it with his front paws. 

Open, yer nasty brute the weight of the young Boxer forces it open a crack enough for him to wedge in his snout quickly followed by the rest of him. Standing on the landing, unaware of the spring-hinged fire door shutting behind his butt, his snout quivers with moisture at the distinct musk of another fourlegs. Somewhere down below. 

Right then, where are yu? tappety tap, his paw claws click on concrete as he carefully descends. He turns at the landing and carries on down to the next floor.  This fire door is closed, corss, and Giblets is unable to push it.  He’s now stuck in the stairwell.  But the good news is the snifz of a male fourlegs is very distinct and very close to where he sits on his haunches waiting patiently for some hindlegs to come and let him through. This stranger is sniffing a bit yellow-green sad but a genuine fourlegs snifz all the same.

“oi?wotyoudoingdownhere,Giblets,yersillybugger?”

Ah, great pants Giblets pull the wood out of the hole, will yers?

AndyLegs wobbles down the stairs and grabs Giblets by his harness, hauling him back up to the third floor instead.

While trotting back to his own houseden Giblets knows he’s gotta get downstairs again as soon as to sort out this new fourlegs threat.  Meanwhile, AndyLegs pushes open the front door to the apartment and Giblets rushes straight through and out onto the balcony, paws on railings, to chin wag with his very bestest G, Tuffy.

Oi, thick paws!

Wot?

Where yuz trotting?

Down the street, init

Where to?

Ends of it, corss

Giblets wags the stub of his tail, eyeballs white rimmed and staring – wot most Boxers look lyk when excited and sniffing a bestie.

“oi,yourunofflikethatagain,Giblets,” AndyLegs scritches from the kitchen “andI’llsticktheleadonyous!”

Sure mate

Fridge door opening sounds the dinner bell, pulling Giblets off the railings and inside, following his snout and standing beside AndyLegs, eyeballing wotz up for noshing.

“youdon’tdeserveit,but…”

A cold pork pie is in AndyLeg’s handpaw and being carried towards the kitchen table.  Trouble is, AndyLegs also lyks his nosh a bit too much for his own good. Half the pork pie is already down his own gob before it gets there.  The other half, corss, goes straight down Giblet’s nosh hole.

Chomp!

My favorite!

AndyLegs goes back to the fridge for another one – committed to placing it on the table, fully untouched and un-noshed, plus a large dollop of Sriracha chili sauce.

Sure, mate

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“bouttimeyoutookthatdogout,Aaron”

“okay,dad”

Shepherdman pricks up his overlarge ears sniffing something good is about to happen.  Aaron snifz all agitated as he throws down onto the bed that thing wot was in his handpaw, picks up Shepherdman ‘round the neck and shakes him about with affection.

“let’sgoout,Sheppy”

Out?  Sounds fun letting off a little squirt for joy on the carpet.

“ah,nooo!” Aaron scritches, slapping Shepherdman on the earflap for his troubles “outside,moron”

Aaron quickly pulls the new tight-fitting collar over the puppy’s head, bending earflaps in all directions, and clips on the lead.  Before he leaves the bedroom Aaron rubs his footpaw into the little puddle, rubbing it to invisibility so his dad don’t catch on.

“don’tlosseit” Aaron’s dad scritches as he shuts the front door behind thems.  For some unknown reason Shepherdman is pleased to be out of the sniffy atmosphere of the apartment.  Shepherdman don’t know why but it snifz troublesome.

Outside and the air snifz all the colours of an exciting new world.  Shepherdman pulls at the lead eager to be off and exploring but Aaron ain’t budging.

“ah,forgotmyiPhone” he ties the lead to the gatepost and wobbles off back inside the apartment building leaving Shepherdman alone.

Oi, snifz yu a voice barks from above who are yu and wotz yu doing in me manor, then?

Shepherdman turns up his snout at the snifz of a male fourlegs wotz popping up and down over a balcony, earflaps flapping.

I’m me he barks happily and I live here with Aaron packmate

Wotz yor name, puppy?

Shepherdman

Nah, that’s wot yu are.  Wotz yor name, yonker?

Shepherdman

That’s all a bit too much for Giblets.

Listen up Shepherdman this’s my gaff, init? Wotz got me squirts all over it

At which point, Shepherdman squats and adds a little bit more squirtz of his own.

Oi, wot did I just bark?

Erh, sorry, I dunno, wot? and the puppy starts shaking and squirting all at the same time. 

Giblets licks his snout confused why the little fourlegs is frightened and not listening to thems simple instructions from him, the big dog of the houseden.

“comeonthen,Sheppy,let’sgo” Aaron is back with the iPhone in his handpaw

Oi, yu! Giblets barks at the hindlegs, also a puppy by the snifz of it.

“stopbarking,mutt” Aaron eyeballs Giblets before making off down the path and into Drakefield Road, pulling along Shepherdman.

“stopshaking,Sheppy,itain’tcold”

Giblets eyeballs thems til they disappear up the road and ‘round the corner, the snifz fading away shortly after.  The whole time Shepherdman shaking on his little paws.

Snifz yu, me old mucker GitOrrf! barks moments later.  The Border Terrier stands on the pavement eyeballing his friend wotz upstairs.

Snifz yu, too, streetlegs

Who’s that, then? GitOrrf! licks a spot of squirtz dribbling behind the German Shepherd puppy new neighbour?

Doing a bit of thinking faster than wot he’s used to, Giblets barks listen up, toilet brush, follow thems two and come back and report

Report wot?

Anything

Anything?

Yuz a parrot or a fourlegs?  Giblets hops about on his hind toes yes, report.  Coz it’s important, init!

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Important or not there ain’t much to report, as it happens.  GitOrrf! follows the puppy hindlegs with the puppy fourlegs at a distance.  Trouble is, reporting is hungry work and soon GitOrrf! is more interested in the odd house bin or two wotz been left in the street with the tops open.  He’s too small to see inside but he does have an amazing trick of running round in circles to build up speed before launching himself into the air and dunking clean into a bin.

Not a flapwing’s fart nothing in the first bin.  Another trouble is that getting in woz the easy bit, but getting out…

Corss, nows he misses out on all the action about to kick off up ahead.

Aaron packmate don’t know anything to know about fourlegs.

Need to stop and poop – I think! Shepherdman is sniffing all about and trying to turn in a circle.

Aaron keeps on wobbling along and not recognising thems telltale signs.

I really need to go, here, right nows!

And Aaron keeps on wobbling on, tugging at the lead.  It goes heavy in his handpaw.  Turning ‘round he catches Shepherdman skidding along on all four paws in squatting position and pooping along the pavement.

“Ahwhat!” he panics and jerks the lead, causing even more poop, Shepherdman nows sitting his butt in it “no,no,no,badpuppy”

As it happens, all this pooping about takes place right in front of Polskie Delikatesy with the owner – a right bad sniffing Polish hindlegs wrencher – leaning on the door frame, eyeballing everything.

“you,boy,younorighttodothis!” he scritches at Aaron “yougoingtocleanitallup,orIcallpolice”

Aaron starts shaking himself, keeping Shepherdman company.

Also trotting along just about nows is Tuffy, the Staffordshire Bull Terrier, returning from perambulations at the ends of the Drakefield Road.  And feeling particularly happy with himself for noshing left over kebabs in thems bins ‘round back of Istanbool.

Ah, mate, yu can’t poop right there in the middle of the pavement he barks at Shepherdman unless it’s dark or wot!

“Icallpolice,yes,yes?”

Didn’t mean to poop – but, I needed to poop Shepherdman hangs his snout low, earflaps folded together in a submissive point over his head.

Yeah, well, ain’t yor fault, izit? Tuffy trots up and bumps snoutz with him should be him, up there, controlling the poop, init? flicking his snout at Aaron.

“right,boy,stayhere – Icallpolice,now”

That’s the trouble with hindlegs.  Got no common sensicals about pooping and not pooping

Suppose not answers Shepherdman, still shaking and squeezing out a last gritty one.

Next time, poop on the grass or in the road lyk wot civilized fourlegs do and with perfect timing, Tuffy trots into the gutter in front of Polskie Delikatesy and lays down a perfectly sensible poop right there and then ah, ooh, that’s better.  Thems kebabs did that, init!

“ahhh!youdisgustingpeoples”  scritches the bad sniffing hindlegs wrencher “withyourfilthyanimals – police!”

Better trot on, mate, feds’re gonna come Tuffy suggests, still sitting beside his poop and scratching his one earflap.

That’s it.  First trip out and Aaron’s already got in trouble with his dad’s favorite Polish supermarket. And made a mess on the pavement. And got the coppers after him.

“sorry,m-mate,sorry” he scritches in a high voice at the wrencher and wobbles off towards the safety of home as fast as his footpaws can wobble, dragging Sherpherdman after him.

The wrencher eyeballs Tuffy.

Tuffy, sitting happily beside his poop, eyeballs the wrencher wot?

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And? barks Giblets from the balcony.

Not a sausage, mate answers GitOrrf! that Shepherdman’s all good, init? conveniently forgetting to tell Giblets about getting stuck in the bin, Tuffy tipping it over to let him out and, subsequently, missing everything wot happened afters.

▪

Second time lucky.

While AndyLegs is having a bit of a snooze, Giblets paws open the front door – wotz easy in thems old council flats with door handles – trots down the hallway, snouts open the stairwell fire door and don’t even remember he’s probably-definitely gonna get stuck again at the fire door one floor below.  Fortunately, thanks to pure luck wot Giblets don’t appreciate, the fire door is already open.  That daft hindlegs wot wastes all that good waterlick on the floors every week, scrubbing it this way and that – and not even licking any of it up – has very helpfully left the fire door ajar with a bucket.  Giblets creeps ‘round the bucket and into the hallway snout twitching on full alert mode.

He’s here, somewheres both snout holes twitching furiously.

And where’s that daft, sharp-sniffy hindlegs? it don’t take long to snifz him out, sniffing sharp coz of all the bleach he’s always using.The daft sharp-sniffy hindlegs is down the other end of the hallway rubbing at the floors and wasting more waterlick, corss.

Giblets trots into the hallway and makes straight towards one of four apartment front doors, Shepherdman’s sniffy trail a clear yellow-green colour. He stops and licks a drop of squirtz at the doorstep – tasting the fear and unhappiness.

Yep, here we are

Raising his snout to the door, sniffing all ‘round abouts it, but especially down at the base where the distinct colour of Shepherdman leaves him in no doubt that the puppy lives here.

“nonsense,nonsense,nonsense” the sound of nervous scritching from a male hindlegs inside.

“nonsense,Sheppy,nonsense” replies a young hindlegs.

Giblets lifts his paws onto the door, trying to push it open.  It don’t. He’s perplexed that some doors open and some doors don’t. His paw nails scratch at the wood and the scritching inside stops.

 “Shepherdman,nonsense,nonsense,Freddy’sFarm,nonsense” the scritching continues all submit-sounding aggressive, too.

Freddy’s Farm? Giblets knows thems scritchy sounds and shakes his earflaps in consternation open up he growls.

“Oi,getoutofit!” scritching from the sharp-sniffy hindlegs the other end of the hallway.

Leave off, mate, I’m busy

Hindlegs starts wobbling towards Giblets waving a long stick wotz in his handpaws.

The front door then opens.

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