‘Walkies'
“Walkies, Benson, WALKIES!” The blessed cry goes up in that daft but welcome way, and I'm ready, as ever. Master clips on my lead and we're away; best not tug too hard. Down the road, horrible smells of oil and petrol; yuk! Round the corner and into the field. Yayyyyy! Here we go!
Oh my Dog, it’s been busy round here. Dunno where to start reasserting my patch. Yeah, MY patch. Sniff sniff; yep, it's that Scotty again – the cheeky little beggar. Whoosh! Take that. And the Boxer from up the road; boosh! Big one for you, mate. Every couple of yards, busy as a one-armed paper hanger, a squirt here, a splash there; gotta claim your patch, with so much competition. Urghhh…Master's getting impatient, yanking my chain, best crack on.
Wide open field, steady now…wait for it…WooHoooooo! I'm off the lead! Gotta run, run, run…smells like a delicatessen on a hot day…airborne Pick & Mix…GREAT! WOOF!WOOF!
WOOFWOOFWOOFWOOF! Hello world, it's me! WOOF! So many smells, so little time. Dog, it feels good!
More widdles, lots to go at, spoilt for choice. Anybody around? No? Best have a crap then. Nnnnhhh! Oh Dog, that's better. Wipe the old feet and away. Here comes Master with his wrinkled up face and little black bag to scoop my poop. Wonder why he collects it? Dunno. I'm off; head for the trees before he gets bored. Eyup, here's my mate Lenny the Labradoodle. “Eyup Lenny! You’re smelling good, mate; fancy a scamper? Waheyyyy!”
All too soon, Master's bawling and it's over for another day. Wonder if there’s a biscuit? Yep, nice one, Master, got you well trained. No sticks around today, or I'd have him throw one for me. Gotta keep’em trained and busy; don't want them getting shouty.
Ho hum, lead back on, trundle home, with enough juice left for the odd widdle. Best do the Boxer bit again, just to make sure. Splurt. Back into the kitchen, expectant look, wag the old rudder, and YES - another biscuit. Well done, Master. Good boy. Crunch, crunch, slobber. Any more? 'Don't ask, don't get' is my motto.
Right, quick slurp of water to top up the old tank, and off to sleep. Dog willing, I'll get another hot dream about that scrummy Lurcher bitch on the corner of my road. Oooohhh, Ding Dong! WOOF, WOOF!…zzzz…
Mike Biggs, 22/06/26
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