"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

The Adventures of Rufus: Millicent.


Millicent wasn’t my girlfriend, or anything like that.

We’d had a brief fling a couple of summers back, but it was never going to go anywhere. We are too different.

I have responsibilities and she doesn’t give a biscuit about anything.

That’s a bit harsh; I should say that she is a free spirit, who is not attached to anyone or anything.

She can get away with it too.

She’s cute, and that will always get you through life. She has breakfast at Widow Wison’s house and dinner at Old Man Johnson’s. She is a dog so she always gives something in return, unlike cats who will pick your pocket and leave you bleeding on the side of the road ……. sorry, I got a bit carried away there. I still haven’t gotten over running into that big Tom Cat over at the junk yard.

Millicent’s favourite thing was to walk in the rain.

Most dogs have enough sense to get in out of the rain, but Millicent didn’t see it that way. Despite  the fact that dogs don’t like the sound of rain falling on the ground, Millicent would be out in it whenever she could.

The three chubby old ladies who live near to my mistress and I have the same attitude. Whenever it starts to pour they are out with their umbrellas jumping in puddles. Not unsurprisingly, Millicent gets on very well with these three ladies, and they often frolic together.

The interesting thing about dogs is that you rarely get two dogs who look at life the same way.

Every dog needs a job and Millicent’s job is to be Millicent, and I feel better just knowing that she is out there.



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