Book 2 Bananas. Chapter 3

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!

Sue Vincent’s #writephoto. Clouded.

Hi everyone just a quick note if anyone would like to re-post any of their old #writephoto prompts please do. While Sue is not posting a photo prompt due to not being well, she would love to see old ones reposted.Now if you would like to join in please use the #writephoto badge

This week’s prompt ~ for Sue Vincent’s #writephoto. Clouded. Written Earlier this year.

For visually challenged writers, the image shows a landscape of green moorland and hills, with a pool of water near rocks in the foreground and a heavy bank of white cloud rolling in and masking the horizon.

The hills rolled on forever, dark foreboding. Clouds rolling in from the west carring rain or worse snow, she could smell it. The whole of the land was shrouded in fear. It had been days since she had seen another living being of her kind and she could not dismiss the feeling that she alone.

There was no way out she had tried. The hills became too steep, the river too fast and the boarder along the eastside too heavily guarded by humans. There was no escape while she was in this wounded condition. Eventually she would run out of places to hide and they would find her.

Slowly she turned and padded back to the cave, she would have her pups in a few weeks and by the time they were grown and strong enough she would be able to lead them out of this place . Her strength would have returned and her wounds healed.

For now this was her prison and her sanctuary , she was safe for now how ever clouded her future .

*******

This is part of #writephoto

Happy Thanksgiving 2020.

I send this happy greeting out to all my American friends and readers all over the world who are celebrating Thanksgiving today. I hope you all have a wonderful day. Please say a prayer for those less fortunate out there. In these covid days I hope you are all safe and being sensible. Stay safe and well and protect eachother. I have written in an Acrostic Poem for you all.

Hopefully they travelled
Across the Atlantic Ocean
Praying for safe delivery
Pleased at first sight of land
Yearning for all they had left behind
Thankful to be safely delivered
Hopeful of a brave new world
Aching in soul and body
No one shirked their duties
Kindred spirits they worked together
Spring, Summer and Autumn brought their hardships
Giving thanks to their God
Indians watched them from afar
Vainly struggling in a hostile world
In fear they struggled but
Never giving up they reached harvest
God got them through and they gave thanks.

Photo by Valiphotos on Pexels.com

Wordless Wednesday, Vlad, has a cuppa.

Ronovan Writes Décima Poetry Challenge Prompt No. 33: (BLIND) in the C rhyme line.

Welcome to the Décima Poetry Challenge. Each week we’ll be attempting a Décima, also known as an Espinela, poem.

If you don’t know how to write a Décima, click HERE to go to a post on How to Write an Espinela or Décima Poem.

Ronovan Writes Decima Challenge Image

You may, if you wish, make some kind of link between the Haiku Challenge prompt of (LIFE and View). and BLIND.

Ronovanwrite’s says the two challenges are separate but can be combined if choose to do so. I choose to combine, my Haiku and Décima.

Eyes tight closed to hide from the truth.
No worse lies than those to one’s self.
It’s detrimental to your health.
It’s the opinion of youth.
Answers second, after the boot.
Life often leaves us lost and blind.
Making our thoughts the jaundiced kind.
There’s nought, worse than self deception.
Spreading like a mass infection.
There’s no silver lining to find.

Part of Ronovanwrite’s Décima Challenge.

Ritu Says: OMG! I Just Hit A Six! #Blogiversary

Go, grab a drink and celebrate with me!

cheers with champagne

Indeed!

Time flies when you’re having fun, doesn’t it?

I logged in this evening to check my blog and in the notifications sat this little beauty, nestled amongst the comments and likes.

Read more of Ritu’s Celebrations at Source

One-Liner Wednesday.25th November 2020.

“A man wrapped up in himself makes a very small bundle”

Benjamin Franklin.

Part of LindaGHill’s One-Liner Wednesday.

#1linerWeds

2020 WEEKLY #TANKA TUESDAY #POETRY CHALLENGE NO. 204, #THEMEPROMPT

WELCOME TO TANKA TUESDAY!

It’s the fourth week of the month! Are you ready for a theme prompt?

This month’s theme is a haiku written by Sue Vincent:

clouds cover the moon,
beyond dawn’s pale horizon
sun rises unseen
.

©2020 Sue Vincent

Please use the above haiku to inspire your own syllabic poetry. There’s a lot to unpack in these words. What will your interpretation be? Go where the words take you.

I wrote an Etheree in honour of the Dawn.

Photo©SueVincent.

New Hope

A
Sliver
Of silver.
A ray of hope
Night shades wrapped and cloaked.
Dawn dancing on her way
With stealth she starts a new day
Silver and gold look glorious
Bright skirts swirling around, hope for us.
Secretly ringing the changes of life.

This is part of Colleen Chesebro’s Tuesday Tanka.

From Jane Dougherty.

Progress report

Originally posted on Jan Doherty Writes.

I have a few success stories to crow about, so I’ll let them all go here.

First, I’m proud to have three poems in the anthology As the World Burns published by Indie Blue. I get a special thrill that my third entry is the poem that closes the collection. Yes, my desk is a mess but I can’t tidy it because of the ladybirds hibernating on it.

GetAttachmentThumbnail-8

Read more at Jane Dougherty Writes

ILLUSTRATING A BOOK

For those who wonder how the stories are illustrated, edited and brought to the book, your curiosity ends here…at least I hope so.

There are many ways one may choose to create illustrations but let’s simplify it and mention two main methods; traditional and digital. Basically, traditional illustration means the artist creates them using real pens, brushes, paint, paper, canvas, water, coffee… you name it, we use it! Digital illustrations on the other hand require an electronic device (like a pad, tablet, and of course an electronic pen).

Read More At Usual Muttwits.

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