What's the point of having a fox terrier in your neighbourhood if he's ignored in times of need?
Gail and I were returning from our walk in the park this morning when we ran into Harry Schnauzer and his human, Alan. We stopped for a wee blether.
I am SO ENVIOUS of Harry. You'll see why.
After some boring preamble about weather and the importance of dogs being contained in the back of a car so as not to interfere with the driving (as if), Alan then casually observes to Gail, "we could have done with Bertie round our place last week".
My little flappy ears prick up.
Apparently Alan and family have, or rather had, two elderly rabbits in a cage in their back garden. One night in April a fox was spotted, sat on top of the cage, unable to figure out a way in. Well I could have told them foxes don't give up so easily. Foxes and fox terriers are well matched you see.
So anyway, a few days after the initial sighting, Alan's wife Jeanette goes into the garden first thing, and finds an empty cage and rabbit entrails strewn across the grass.
If only I had been called in earlier.
And where were the rest of the rabbit remains? Where was Harry?
Well before long, out came Harry from behind a bush. I guess it's hard to smile when your jaw is crammed full with the limb of a much loved family pet, but I know fine well that inside he was grinning from ear to flappy (like mine) schnauzer ear.
I'll say it again. I am jealous.
Menolyrical; Final Friday Fiction
2 hours ago