Dogs Delight 29 Funny turn

The damp smell of grass is sweet.  It reminds me of a picnic long ago, but it was summer then and the field was bright with buttercups so tall I could lose myself.  Just like then, I never want to get up again.  I lie completely still until the damp has seeped through my coat and I am shivering. 

Stokes’ Jack Russell finds me when they come out to lock up the shotgun for the night and Stokes hauls me up roughly, muttering under his breath.

In the dark empty lounge of the Lone Gelding Mrs Stokes begins to pour out a brandy, but I ask for Pernod instead: long and with lots of ice in a tall glass.  It’s the only drink I really like.


  

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Dogs Delight 30 Bad dog

The village is a long line of houses forming Main Street, with a few short rows leading off.  Main Street is now lined with bulky television vehicles and two satellite vans are parked on the village green, all because of Bailey’s discovery. 

This morning two local television crews hammered on our door and asked to film him, but Richard sent them away, swearing freely, and let Bailey out at the back into the garden, where he dug a hole in the lawn. 

I stay inside, shaking, waiting for the police inspector to arrive.  Through the window I can see two officers following Bailey around the maples, hoping to discover where he buries his treasures; but Bailey does not usually bury things as he prefers to eat them straightaway.  One of the policemen tells me they may have to arrest him. 

I can’t tell whether or not he is joking.