Menu Home

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 […]

May 27th. The injury.

Oh dear, says the Owner. The Moral Dog is bleeding from his ear. I languish on my cushion and gaze at the Owner through Tragic But Fading eyes. Do not worry, I say, I have not suffered much. I know, says the Owner, but you have dripped blood on the […]

May 26th. Eyes.

Where have you been? Asks the Owner. Nowhere, I say. You appear to have been in the Woods, says the Owner. And the Park, she says. And the Bluebells, she says. I might have been, I say. I will have to check my Diary, I say. Then I will Make […]

May 24th. Rules.

I am wondering whether perhaps I could have a Lolly for breakfast, I say. No, says the Owner. Why not? I ask. Those are the Rules, says the Owner. One can be too Pedantic about Rules, I say. I think you are thinking of Guidance, says the Owner. Whether or […]