CHAPTER 3
..yu string along…yu string along…Karma, Karma, ka…
“purple,orpink,orgreen,or-“ Squeezy is scritching to herself “or…” she stops the motor unexpectedly and Paddles is nearly thrown over the handlebars “red,whiteandblue,yes!YES!”
Wot? Paddles turns his head and gives her the eyeball.
“ohPaddles,whataluckydoggy” she rubs his shaggy head “verypatriotic,veryBritish,veryglitterspray”
Paddles definitely don’t lyk the sound of this, his black tongue hanging from his chops in consternation.
Erh, wot? he grunts again, nows feeling tight down under.
“UnionandJack,ofcourse” Squeezy scritches in delight
“thinkofallthemoney-frompatrioticBrexiteers!”
Paddle’s got no idea who Union and Jack are and can’t snifz thems anywheres, but he sure knows where Squeezy wants to start glitter spraying. Right on his no go area – no go for anyone except him. Wot often takes some finding coz of all thems Chow Chow butt furs in between, that is.
Before he can start complaining the mowta whines into the drive thru area of Mackers. All thoughts of patriotic plumb bobs, Union and Jack are instantly forgotten in the noshing moment.
Big Mac, extra-large, corss, plus upsize fries he barks and don’t go easy on the cheese
Wot he actually gets is chicken niblets. He chomps his way through most of thems before the mowta whines out of the drive-thru.
“tomorrow,unionandjack” Squeezy scritches a promise ruffling Paddle’s earflaps “tomorrow,Ipromise”
▪
As it happens, Bananas is a very practical fourlegs. Being a Pug, wotz a bit flat in the black snout and a bit short in the yellow four legs, she appreciates that she can’t submit the mowta all by herself. Wot she needs is Paddle’s help, too.
Such thoughts are bouncing ‘round between her black earflaps the next morning – snifz of colourful ideas wotz only goal is to help out Paddles and stop thems plum bobs from getting glittered. She don’t know how, but she sure knows the mowta’s the problem and the solution, all mixed up in the same nosh bowl. There’s gotta be a way.
Meanwhile Oskar’s got his handpaws in the peanut butter, again. And he ain’t giving any to Bananas.
Wot about yor four-legged friend? she yaps at him.
The hindlegs pup sticks a sticky handpaw at her snout and she starts licking at it.
That’s the spirit
Nows, everyone knows that peanut butter is not good for fourlegs – coz there ain’t never enough of the stuff. Not for hindlegs nor fourlegs. But wot there is must be shared.
Oskar puts the jar on the floor under the table where Oskar’s packmom won’t eyeball it. Together they stick handpaws and fourlegs’ paws into the same jar, jostling for room to get at the sniffy nosh. Bananas, being quicker, gets both front paws into the jar, wedging herself tight, preventing Oskar–
Ahh the solution to the mowta problem that’s it!
We need to get out and abouts she starts yapping soon as the peanut butter’s all licked and sorted.
Oskar, who’s waiting his second brekkers – his first brekkers being gobs of peanut butter under the kitchen table – ain’t going along with that.
“afterbreakfast” he scritches, coz small hindlegs pups know exactly wot small fourlegs are yapping on abouts.
Don’t think so Oskar, we gotta go save some plum bobs before they go unsavable
“afterbreakfast”
Funny thing is, today is Arjom’s football practice. He wobbles out of his bedroom wearing his footers and leaving dried muddy flakes everywhere.
“hurryup,Oskar” he scritches at his brother.
Sitting room door opens and out wobbles packmom “whatdidIsay?Nobootsinthehouse!” and immediately eyeballs Oskar and Bananas under the kitchen table. Luckily the jar is hidden. But ain’t nothing hidden about the great big dollop of peanut butter stuck on the end of Bananas flat snout.
“rightthen” in that low-sounding packmom scritch wot everyone knows means trouble “onyourcushion,you” she scoops up Bananas and dunks him onto his favorite cushion, none too gently. Wot also reveals the empty peanut butter jar under the table.
Oh-oh
“nowonderthisdog’sfat” packmom shrieks “nobreakfastforyou,miss”
Hold on a tic – ain’t me, were him eyeballing Oskar, the accused snifz out his handpaws, go on, snifz ‘ems!
▪
At the football ground laters, a small bit of Herdwick pooping park wotz cordoned off and completely free of poop, Bananas sits on the grass with Oskar carefully sniffing at a pack of hindlegs pups wobbling about and having too much fun. Between thems a small scratch is being kicked all over the place – which is only right, coz all scratch need a good kicking. ‘cept this scratch is round, don’t have no legs or fur, and only snifz of grass. But it’s definitely a scratch coz it’s dumb as any other scratch – wotz got all its legs and fur.
“gooooooal!” scritches Arjom, but misses – coz the scratch is too dumb to roll where it’s supposed to roll.
Beyond the poopless grass, Bananas keeps her flat snout sniffing towards the direction of Short Cut. Her eyeballs see everything hazy – coz fourlegs are a bit shortsighted – but her snout makes all thems sniffy colours stand out crystal clear. Her chops start watering from thems orange-sniffy colours of the nosh shops in the High Street, wotz a good enough reason to trot over there right now – especially as she’s missed brekkers. But today she’s waiting for a very particular snifz and thems scritchy sounds of Boy George.
▪
..if I listen to yor lies, would yu saaay…I’m a man without conviiiction…
Squeezy mowtas out of Hazlehurst Road and whines towards Short Cut. Paddles in front, taking most of the space – massive pink and fluffy. Squeezy can hardly get her handpaws ‘round his fat furry butt to work the controls.
“ouf,Paddles,youbiglump” Squeezy scritches, eyeballing the pavement ahead between his thick furry earflaps.
Yeah right, sez she Paddles pants, little black tongue lolling and enjoying the rush of air wotz cooling him nicely.
..how to sale a contradiiiction…
The whiny mowta steers towards the High Street.
“today’stheday” Squeezy in a sing-song scritching “theBritishgetheirpatriotics – andPaddlesgetshisglitter!”
Squeezy sing-songs a lot of poop and he ain’t got no clue wot she’s scritching on abouts most of the time. But today, right nows, he certainly understands all the sing-song and wotz behind it.
Wotz underneath it and behind it, to be specifical
“red,whiteandblue” Squeezy carries on, sniffing too dog-damn happy for Paddles’ liking.
As Hazlehurst Road reaches the corner of the High Street, it starts to dips down towards Herdwick pooping park at the other end. Beyond that is the sniffy Thameslick, just sitting there.
Wotz often forgotten is that Westly Piddle High Street is on a shallow hill – but not too shallow. Squeezy, being a bit of a show-off with her flashy mowta, neon pink Chow Chow, and Boy George vibes,
lyks to advertise to the whole town of pedestrians that she’s coming down the hill to busk to ‘ems. And so, Squeezy squeezes her little handlebar and speeds up.
“weeeez” she scritches in delight as they hit the top of the High Street.
Weeeez barks Paddles, forgetting the future of his plum bobs in all the heres and nows.
▪
Bananas ain’t forgetting, however.
Without further ado she’s up and trotting right across the poopless grass – wot she’s not allowed to – trotting between all the hindlegs pups – pausing for a little squirtz over the legless, furless scratch, wot it rightly deserves for being so round and dumb, lyk – and trots towards the exit of Herdwick pooping park and the High Street, beyond.
Wotz the rush, Bananas? Nutz and Boltz trot up to bump snoutz snifz y– but Bananas don’t stop for such polite affiliations.
No time, fellas, got an appointment with destiny she races on, leaving the Jack Russell brothers sniffing at a butt that ain’t there.
By the corner of the vape shop, where the pavement widens out for all thems nosh shops’ chairs and tables, Squeezy squeezes harder and the mowta starts picking up speed.
..loving would be eeeasy if your colours were lyk my dreeeams…
Coz the pavement is well paved and even, the skinny roundlegs on the mowta spin faster and the breeze blows stronger, sweeping back all the fluff from Paddle’s snout – turning him into a pink Chewbacca – ‘cept without the big teeth.
“sixmilesperhour!” scritches Squeezy “weeeez”
Weeeez barks Paddles.
Bananas paws are tiny and her short body makes trotting real tongue-wagging work.
But there ain’t nothing for it ‘cept to press onwards and upwards, weaving in and out of hindlegs, lampposts, and ducking under tables wot get inconveniently in the way. The scritchy strains of Boy George getting louder all the time.
Tuffy and GitOrff! are hanging about outside Greggs, contemplating the regular brekkers menu wafting out the door in a wonderful orange snifz.
Is that a bird, is that a plane?
chuckles Tuffy, eyeballing the Pug shooting up the High Street or is it a banana?
Nah, mate, that’s a doggy on a charge GitOrrf! marvels, fried sausage and bacon momentarily forgotten as Bananas trots right past without so much as a snifz yuz muttwits grunt.
Down, down they fly. The mowta not far short of warp speed.
..and you used to be so sweet I heard you saaay…aay
They rush past Oxfam, the sour sniffy colours gone before Paddles can even appreciate thems. His eyeballs are watering and he’s feeling all giddy.
This is the life, init? he howls, caught up in the rush.
“eightM-P-H!” scritches Squeezy “hittingthemax,weeeez”
Weeeez
Banana’s never trotted so dog-damned hard in her life, paws burning, tongue whipping all over her flat snout, spraying goo every which way. And the mowta is nows directly ahead, growing enormous.
Paaaadles, I’m comiiiing!
..when we cliiing, our love is stro-oong…
“ninemile-OUTTHEWAY!” Squeezy scritches at the Pug, panic slamming in, fate and destiny right in front of the speeding Mowta “OUTTHE–“
Weeeez–Bananas? WOTTHEFFF–
Bananas shuts her eyes at the last moment, the Mowta filling her whole life. She jumps, paws flat out front and back, straight into Paddles.
SPLAT!
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