The Owner says I shouldn’t have eaten the Boots, even though they were pinching.
I say I didn’t eat them, I chewed them, which is not the same as eating. If I ate everything I chewed I would by now have swallowed both the sofa and the postman, and that would be silly.
She says they were Jimmy Choos.
I say he shouldn’t have left them on the floor if he didn’t want me to chew them.
The Owner picks up the Boots and a horrible fishy smell fills the kitchen.
What is that? I ask. What are you doing to my Boots?
I am gluing them back together, she says, and they are not Your Boots.
I chewed them, I say. That makes them My Boots. That is How It Works if you are a Dog.
It is not how it works if you are a Person, she says.
I say the Moral Dog has a Moral Code about these things.
The Owner says she had the Boots first. She found them on ebay.
Exactly, I say. I found them on the floor. It seems to me that the Moral Values of Dogs and People are not So Far Apart.
She says I am the most Stubborn Dog she has ever met.
I say that is very flattering but it does not detract from the validity of my Counterclaim.
Very well, she says. What does the Moral Dog propose?
Perhaps, I say, we should have one each.
I watch as the Owner struggles into one Boot.
That Boot is Too Small for you, I say. My Boot, on the Other Hand, fits me extremely well. There is even room for growth. But the smell is terrible.
That’s because you are wearing it on your nose, she says. Are’t you going to chew it?
Certainly not, I say, it smells like a bucket of haddock.
The Owner says she is very pleased to hear it. She will put glue on the sofa and the Postman too if it will stop me chewing them.
That would be silly, I say.
Not as silly as a Dog with a Boot on his nose, says the Owner.
I have to concede she has a point.
Hergest the Hound
I am a dog of many thoughts.