Flames and sparks and noise and smokey stuff.
Some huge, fire breathing monster that looked like it was going to eat the moon.
I tried barking at it to get it to go away, but it just carried on barking back.
I was obliged to beat a retreat… a tactical decision to defend the back of her knees. You never know, there could have been a stealth attack on her ankles…
Bonfire night, she called it. Fireworks. I’d forgotten ‘bout it since last year. Then there were only what she called ‘a few damp squibs’ going pouf in the night. Nothing much to worry about.
This year, though… Whoosh… fizz…bang…
I tried telling her about it, but she just called me a daft dog.
I had a burrow under the cushions, but she growled at me… something to do with the lump of brie I’d hidden under there I think. Well, I wasn’t really hungry you see, but I’m not going to pass up the last of the brie so I thought I’d save it for later. ‘pparently she hadn’t forgotten that little incident…wanted to know what I was up to now.
Eventually I thought I’d be better defending the little nook by the ‘puter. You know, right in the corner, under her chair. By her feet. Seemed a wise move. Apart from a vague hint of cheese… and I’m sure I didn’t bury any near her feet…
She, of course, didn’t appreciate my efforts and laughed at me… “Aw Ani, you daft thing…” I tried ignoring her, but she got the camera out. She has no sense of my dignity as an established writer, you know. None at all.
Mind, she has no sense of dignity full stop if you ask me… there are tales I could tell you that would make you howl… Weird that… we don’t howl for the same reasons, do we us dogs and you two-foots?
Still, we usually manage to make ourselves understood, don’t we? And unlike some four footed domesticated animals I could mention, we dogs usually listen to what you have to say. You saw the report thingy ‘bout cats, yes? ‘Bout how they do understand you but choose not to? Scientific proof of what I’ve been saying about that ginger tom next door for ages.
No… if I start on the whole cats thing we’ll be here all night… though I do have a friend of the feline purr-suasion, so to speak… SamCat the Ripper. We correspond. Even though he’s on the other side of the world as well as the other side of the dog-cat divide, he seems a good sort. He has problems with the dog next door, so we understand each other.
That’s the thing though… different countries, different species even… but we manage to be friends because we look more at what we have in common than at our differences. Yet the odd thing is, he looks awfully like that ginger thing next door… same colour and everything…
It is surprising how much difference it makes when you take time to get to know someone, isn’t it?
Anyway, where was I? Yeah… the bangy things… Seeing as she was laughing and hefting the camera, I thought there was only one thing for it. I climbed on her knee and sat there. Take up a fair bit of space. Bear in mind that I am a small dog only in relative terms… and my closest relatives are setters and retrievers a nice mix of breeds if you ask me… and dad’s not ginger. He is red-gold. That put a stop to her editing for the evening, and in the end she just curled up on the sofa with me and the vague aroma of cheese…
It’s about bedtime now I think… she seems to be doing stuff in the bathroom and after the past couple of weeks I need a place to hide… just in case.