What a dreadful day.
Rachel had made special biscuits. “We are having visitors” she said. “You won’t like them.”
How right she was. A lady with a dog.
Not just any dog – a HUGE one, with a tongue a mile long, just hanging out of its mouth like a wet baby blanket. So unnecessary; so vulgar, we thought.
We came down to look at it. Scooter came first, and after staring for a while (he said he couldn’t help himself – he’d never seen a tongue like it!) he came upstairs and told us to come and see for ourselves.
So we did. Cautiously.
Anything with a tongue that size could have teeth to match, we thought, and we were right.
So uncouth, those big gnashers!
That dog had no manners. It rolled on the carpet without a shred of dignity.
It took one of our toys without asking.
It chewed it! We can never play with it again – it has dog-drool on it!
We were glad to see the back of those visitors, we can tell you.
Afterwards, Rachel said we had behaved very well; no one swore, or scratched anyone else; no one threw up on the stairs. We set a good example.
We bet that dog didn’t notice.