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Over the Fence and Far Away
“Flossie, sit,” the boss ordered calmly, gathering the lead close to her and straddling me with both legs. Sit? I was already slithering back towards the ditch, all sense of propriety gone.
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The Builder on the Balcony
“Are you sure he’s not still inside?” All five of us stopped and looked at one another in shocked horror which quickly turned to mirth. Of course, it wouldn’t be funny if we really had locked the poor builder on the balcony and gone off for the day, would it? Yet, still, rather cruelly, we found the situation amusing.
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“Oh, Flossie”
“I think it was a sock…” so says the Boss as she retrieves a soggy wet lump of grey material from the grass beneath the whirligig thing holding their clothes. Now, far be it from me to offer an opinion but seems to me, if these humans leave their socks lying around then they must expect to lose one or two. “Oh, Flossie – you rascal – naughty girl…” Now, wait a minute, that sock was won fair and square. Pegged loosely onto the line it dangled enticingly before my eyes. I kept watch on it for well over an hour in between sporadic attempts to reach it by…
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The Arrival
No sooner have I arrived than I hear I am to be the author of a monthly blog – wow! This sudden rise to doggy literary fame is a little daunting for one so young and I am more than a tad in awe of my predecessor into whose pawprints I warily tread.
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Write again!
After ten years of writing only sporadically whilst working full time, I now find myself with both the time and the desire to re-explore that wonderful world where laughing at oneself really is the best medicine.
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A cautionary tale
"... a finely judged fantasia which delineates with brio an oneiric landscape in which supernal virtue and infandous evil are held in terrible equipoise
