By the time Giblets is back safely on the balcony and being scolded with a cuff ‘round the earflaps from AndyLegs, Tuffy has fled so far away he’s already lost his bearings.
He drops Shepherdman onto his paws and stands about to get his second wind. Shepherdman squats and poops and squirts out all the excitement wotz inside.
Hello Shepherdman finally manages to squeak snifz yu
Yeah, mate, snifz yu, too
I want to go home Shepherdman yaps to Tuffy to Aaron sniffing at Tuffy’s rear quarters.
Tuffy nips at his big earflaps to discourage any unfamiliarities.
I dunno who that is, but we ain’t going back – not til ThreeLegs trots off
Yu don’t wanna know, mate
At the very ends of Drakefield Road, quite a trot actually, Westley Piddle starts to loosen up and turn into fields for heavylegs wot poop in the fields, tall hedgerows and not a lot of lampposts. Even the pavements give way to ditches beside the roads. They fill up with rainlick when the weather is bad. Thank dog the bright hot ball is high in the sky and not being bounced about by scratchy clouds. Wot also means Tuffy can skirt ‘round abouts the edges of West Pid, keeping to the fields, and enter back into town through the woodlands behind Herdwick pooping park – not going anywhere near Giblet’s gaff.
Tuffy hears a growling roundlegs speeding up the road behind thems.
Quick mate, follow me and he leads the big-eared puppy straight through the hedge and into a field, out of sight. Just in time to miss Freddy and ThreeLegs growling by and disappearing off to, wherever.
Best thing is we hook up with Drizzle muses Tuffy and starts off at an easy trot.
Shepherdman follows with only one question when’s nosh time?
Yor brighter than yu look, big ears grins Tuffy the thought of noshing extraordinarily absent from his intellectuals since – well, he don’t remember exactly, since the last noshing he supposes.
Ain’t got big ears growls Shepherdman, wotz more lyk a buzzing sound coz he’s so little.
Wotevs chuckles Tuffy eyeballing in wonder the puppy German Shepherd’s really large head flaps how d’yu fancy getting yer chops ‘round some Mackers?
Yeah, just across thems fields, init? Best trot thru bins ‘round back yu can snifz, anywheres
And off they trot, over fields and dodging heavy legs, towards the Shell Garage out on the highway.
Snifz it just up ahead, mate Tuffy flaps his one remaining ear wotz got the council green tag we’re on the meat!
The yellow arches loom ahead – favorite sigil of all fourlegs wot love noshing. After KFC, corss.
Quite a few squirts later when the bright hot ball in the sky is already falling down Giblets is off for his afternoon trot-about with AndyLegs.
As it happens they take the lift down coz AndyLegs don’t want to encourage Giblets on the stairs. The lift stops on the second floor, doors open, and who should wobble in? None other than Mister Donovan. Giblets bares his teeth.
“stopthatGiblets,enoughtroublefromyou,today” AndyLegs yanks at the lead.
“nonsense,nonsense,alldogsaretrouble,nonsense” scritches Mister Donovan eyeballing the Boxer with a fearful hateful purply red-snifz.
“couldn’tagreemore” another sharp yank.
Doors open and Mister Donovan wobbles out but not before Giblets has one last go.
Oi, got me eyeballs on yuz he barks in rapid fire, the lead almost pulled from AndyLeg’s handpaw yer criminal!
Giblets pants satisfied as Mister Donovan stumbles away to escape him, wobbling up the path fast as hind legs can wobble him.
“notnice,Giblets,notnice” scritches AndyLegs.
Nice, wotz that? Giblets celebrates with a squirtz just outside the front door – wot he’s not supposed to do.
Did yu know that Giblets can fly lyk a flaplegs? marvels Tuffy to Drizzle.
Corss munches Drizzle everyone knows that!
The two streetlegs are standing over road-kill wot Drizzle has dragged into the woods behind Herdwick pooping park. Shepherdman is sitting a bit aways from thems and holding down a bone, happily teasing off bloody shreds of flesh between sharp teeth.
This is mighty fine nosh Tuffy tilts his head to one side to crack a bone and slurp out the dark marrow.
Very finest the A404 can provide, mate Drizzle answers trying to a swallow a large lump of something wotz got lodged in his throat killed fresh everyday – if’m lucky. Urchhhhh-k! and successfully swallows it.
Shepherdman don’t bark anything, just sits there noshing wotz given him.
About this squeaker Drizzle turns his large brown Rhodesian Ridgeback snout at Shepherdman sniffing him discriminately wotz the plan, then?
Stay away from Freddy and ThreeLegs s’pose – Giblets knows best about all that
That great mind, royt!
The two streetlegs eyeball the puppy struggling with his bone, their black snoutz both scarred, mottled and chewed from living the brutal street life. The very same life that Shepherdman has nows embarked upon whether he wants it or not; starting the very same moment Tuffy grabbed him by the scruff.
Nah, don’t worry about it, Tuffy grunts Drizzle stay wi’ me under my paw til thems plumb bobs of his sprout fluff
Corss sez Tuffy, solemnly fourlegs code
Is wot it is
Shepherdman jumps up, one earflap up, the other twisted inside out wot about Aaron? he squeaks.
Shuttit, muttwit both streetlegs growl together.
Oi, yu hellashosh bitch!
Fall off that balcony, why don’t yu?
Nah, done that, ain’t healthy
Foxy the Pomeranian wotz wearing her bestest diamante harness stops and squeezes out a delicate canapé poop right in front of Giblet’s houseden.
Snifz on that, yu bigsie-licking mongrel she snarls up at him before Spinsterpackmate descends on the offending item with her Lidl plastic bag.
Go on, trot off to yer own street, yer fluffy witch bouncing up and down on his back paws and unable to stretch his head out too much – coz of AndyLegs locking off his lead at two meters.
Oi, yu! That’s right, yu, with the squashed flat snout!
Eyeballed yerself, lately, darling?
Nah, tired of witnessing perfection, init?
Bananas the small yellow pug sticks out her little tongue ah, Giblets, yor such a noisy tetrapod, darling
Giblets hops up and down at the compliment.
Giblets stops hopping up and down.
Not weird, lyk, right?
But too late, she’s already trotted off down Drakefield Road to its very ends with Oskar and his siblings in tow.
Oi, yer furry-butted Fed!
Come down here and yap that, civilian
Or wot? Gonna come up? Nah, not without thems other two muttwits, init?
Shadow the glossy black PD of Thames Valley Police stonily eyeballs the young Boxer up on his balcony. His partner, PC smith packleader, clicks his tongue disapprovingly.
Alright, gottit boss, no talking down to the natives resuming his rounds.
Nah, didn’t think so fully wiling to leap over the balcony again if only the lead would let him, and not for want of trying.
“oi,Giblets,behave” the terse scritch from AndyLegs indoors, opening the fridge door.
Giblets whips indoors, Shadow forgotten.
Wotz for noshers then?
Been an exhausting day. Giblets lost count the number of fourlegs he’s managed to rub up the wrong way. A completely happy day, altogether. He settles on the balcony enjoying his evening chew stick wot is pork rinds flavoured.
Oi, Gibbers calls a voice.
Giblets is up and leaning over the balcony, lead still offering only two meters of submitting space.
Me old mucker! roars Giblets, approvingly.
Under the streetlight stands Tuffy, the lamppost suitably damp from a little territorial squirtz.
None other. All good?
Yu tell me
Yessir continues Tuffy package well sorted and living the life down in’t woods with Drizzles
Ex-ce-llen-ti exclaims Giblets skipping on his paws.
Corss, the street life beckons for that yonker, nows – better that than Freddy’s init, wotever way yu lick at it
The two fourlegs eyeball one another a bit before conversation dries up coz both need to urgently attend to some grooming in nether regions.
Wotz it lyk being a flaplegs, Gibbers? asks Tuffy lifting his head from between his hind quarters.
Not so bad. Flap it again when I get a chance – oh, and I wanted to ask yers?
How come yu and ThreeLegs snifz alyk? The concept of fourlegs being the same breeds or being totally different breeds quite beyond all thems possessed superb intellectuals.
No way mate. ThreeLegs only got three paws, init
They stand ‘round abouts, eyeballing one another, sniffing the air, indolently wagging butt nubs.
See yer laters, flaplegs sez Tuffy, finally.
Laters, little ThreeLegs sez Giblets eyeballing his G trotting away from the streetlight and into darkness.
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