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May 28th. The Mouse.

The Owner looms from the Darkness like the Ghost of Christmas Past. Look what I caught! She says.

This is an Outrage, says a Voice.

You are not making any sense, I say. Civilised Owners are asleep at this time of night, I say. Then I attempt to hide my head under my cushion.

I am not Civilised, says the Owner, I am a Doctor. I am On Duty.

I know that, I say. You use the word Bottom in Normal Conversation, I say.

There is nothing wrong with saying Bottom, says the Owner, we all have one.

There you go again, I say.

I am putting in a Complaint, says the Other Voice, I demand access to my Lawyer.

Come out of your Den and have a Look, says the Owner.

That Voice is giving me the Creeps, I say. I am staying right here, I say.

What Voice? Says the Owner.

Let me Out or I shall Sue the Pants off you, says the Voice.

The One in that Box you are holding, I say. Who or What is in there? I ask.

It is Only a Mouse, says the Owner, he is Squeaking Pathetically and Fearfully because I have caught him in this Humane trap.

I would hardly call it Humane, says the Mouse. It is a Plastic Box with Chocolate in it. What sort of Ecosystem do you call this? David Attenborough would have you for Breakfast. I am calling Mouseline.

What did you do that for? I ask.

It was Eating the Coffee, says the Owner, and it Weed in the Sugar.

You are a Big Fat Meanie, says the Mouse. Let me out and I’ll bite your leg off.

Isn’t it pretty? Says the Owner.

No, I say, it is very Rude, I say. What are you going to do with it?

I am going to release it, says the Owner.

I shall come straight back in, says the Mouse. And then I shall bite your leg off.

It may return seeking Vengeance, I say.

Don’t be silly, says the Owner, Mice do not seek Vengeance.

I know one who does, says the Mouse.

Where are you going to release it? I ask.

I shall take it outside and release it by the fence, says the Owner.

Hahahahahahahahaha, says the Mouse.

Could you not take it a little further? I ask.

You can take me to Epping Forest, says the Mouse, I am still coming back to bite your leg off.

It will come straight back in, I say.

Nonsense, says the Owner, a Tiny little thing like this? How would it find its way?

You have no idea who you are dealing with, says the Mouse.

Couldn’t you just put it back under the fridge and give it some chocolate? I say.

No, says the Owner. Why are you so worried about one little Mouse? Anyone would think it was talking to you. Hahaha.

Hahaha, I say.

Honestly. This is a Woman who talks to her Dog. I despair.








Categories: dignity dog dog philosophy

Hergest the Hound

I am a dog of many thoughts.

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