"The dog is a gentleman; I hope to go to his heaven, not man's." – Mark Twain, Letter to W D Howells, 4/2/1899

One Dog For Cover.

816743674ab1048d830e38fc4ee49bb2She did it all the time, and it drove me crazy.

I don’t know what she did with the information, I’m only a dog after all, but I’m pretty sure that she used some of it to buy dog biscuits. She always had a couple of them in the pocket of her apron. She must have had some magical supplier.

We got caught a couple of times; listening at the door, peering through keyholes. She used me as an excuse, and it always seemed to work. “Sorry sir, the dog ran off and I was trying to find her, fetch her back like, so she didn’t get into no trouble like.” It always seemed to work and I came out of it with a large dog biscuit, so it all seemed harmless enough.

My mum used to say, “Always guard the one with the endless supply of dog biscuits.” Well, she didn’t actually say that, but that’s what she meant.

To be honest, I don’t do it just for the biscuits. I do it because I love her, and it’s my job to look out for her. She can’t smell danger, but I can. The biscuits are a bonus.

My nails need cutting though, I make too much noise when I walk.

I really hate getting my nails cut, but mostly I just close my eyes and think of biscuits.


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