We are the dogs of Munchy Flats. We live here, with our people.
And Whiskers and Panda, but they, of course, are cats. Cats are not the same as dogs! Cats stalk and slink and sit on top of cupboards. They go âMiaaaaaow!â and do a lot of sleeping.
Dogs bounce and bark. We jump! And play. And we go out for walks with our people. We tell the cats about it when we get back.
âWeâve been up to the park!â
But the cats just yawn and stretch and go on snoozing. They are not interested in hearing about our adventures. Cats are not like dogs! But we all get on together.
Sometimes we even share a basket, or a corner of the sofa. And then our people look at us and go, âAh! How sweet!â
We like to make our people happy. We love them very much. If it wasnât for them, none of us would be here.
I was the first to come. After me there was Bella. And after Bella there was Bouncer. This is his story.
***
We first met Bouncer when he was just a pup. It was a Sunday morning; I remember it well. Bella and I had been for a long walk across the Common. I was stretched out on the hearth rug. Bella was in the armchair by the window. She was fast asleep and snoring.
Bella snores a LOT. She tries to pretend that she doesnât She says that she is a pedigree, and a lady, and that ladies do not snore. Well, have I got news for her! Woffle-grunt-sno-o-ort, woffle-grunt-sno-o-ort. She sounds like a donkey with its head in a hay bag.
But that morning I was tired, so I didnât let it bother me. Very soon I was in the land of nod, dreaming of bones and biscuits and Big Boy Treats. Yum yum! They are my favourites!
I was rudely woken by the sound of Bella, barking. Bella has an amazingly LOUD bark for such a tiny little (ladylike) dog. She sounds more like a herd of elephants than a dog.
âWhat?â I cried. âWhat?â
I sprang to my feet, ready to do battle. Had a burglar broken in??? I would see him off! I would protect my People!
Bella was hurtling up and down by the French windows. I barrelled across to join her. All the hackles on my back were up. Bella said afterwards that I looked like a lavatory brush. What cheek!
But even worse cheek⦠out in the garden was a small white dog. A small white dog â in my garden!
I say white, but it also had splashes of brown. Brown ears, brown saddle, brown tail. Plus a rather long and pointy nose.
âUgh!â said Bella. âIt looks like a door knocker!â
Bella herself has a somewhat short, delicate nose. She is very proud of her nose. She is also rather proud of the fact that she is a pedigree. Rather too proud, in my opinion.
âUgly all-sorts!â screamed Bella, through the window.
âNever mind what it is,â I said. It was what it was doing that annoyed me. It was digging â in my garden!
I opened my mouth and gave a great roar. I wasnât having a cheeky young whipper-snapper digging up my garden! Even I wasnât allowed to dig up the garden â and I am the boss dog.
I barked at it. âStop that, this instant!â
The whipper-snapper lifted his head, and saw me. A big grin spread across his face. He turned, and stuck up his bottom â stuck up his bottom! At me! â and went back to his digging.
It was just as well that our people arrived, or I really think I would have bounded straight out through the French windows, even though they were closed. If I had reached him, I would have given him a good barking!
As it was, my people told me and Bella to stay where we were.
âWe donât want you to frighten him,â they said.
If you ask me, he deserved to be frightened. You could tell that he was a cocky little thing. He came bouncing indoors with the people, tail in the air, eyes all a-gleam. He had trouble written all over him!
âThat dog,â I thought, âneeds to be taken down a peg or two.â
He needed to be squashed. But my people wouldnât let me!
âBuster, put your back down,â they said. âBella, stop pulling faces!â
âStupid all-sorts,â sniffed Bella.
But he wasnât an all-sorts, he was a pedigree, just like her. A fox terrier, according to our people.
âA very handsome little chap!â
Well! That upset Bella, I can tell you. She went off into a corner to sulk, while I stood guard. The least sign of trouble and I was ready to spring! But just for the moment, he was on his best behaviour.
My people wondered where he could have come from.
âWhere do you live, little fellow?â
I think he was probably too young to know. Fortunately he had a tag on his collar, with a telephone number which my people immediately rang. Alas, there was no reply!
âWeâll keep on trying,â they said. âWeâll get you back home!â
âAnd the sooner the better,â muttered Bella. She didnât like the idea of having another pedigree in the house. She was still a bit spoilt in those days.
It was tea-time before the people finally managed to contact the whipper-snapperâs owner. His owner was really grateful! She said that she would drive over straight away.