Poppet: Wesley Piddle Summer Fayre Part Three.

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Part 3. Poppet

 “you’relate!” Armitage scritches. 

“keepyourhaton,we’rehere,ain’twe?” 

“stickthisnumberonthedoggy” Armitage thrusts a No.11 rosette into her handpaw.

Stonks and Poppet stand at the edge of the showground with loads other fourlegs. Sitting, reclining, licking at essentials, and all hard eyeballing Poppet.

Oi, shaggy teets, brains not beauty wanted, init? Sasha, the cute Shih Tzu, spits. 

Shuttit, fluffy butt growls Poppet.

Ooo, stupid animaux  Marie-Antoinette, the French Poodle shrills at thems both no beauty, no brains, no intellect-tuels.  No clarss!

Stonks pulls out a curry comb, spinning silver from Poppet’s fur “needbrushing,needbrushing”

I’ll bang this Poppet’s beauty dazzles not so hard, izit?

“numberten,numberten” Armitage scritches, making all the fourlegs wince “getyerdoggyhere,NOW”

“isthatyou?” Stonks is checking the rosette number on Poppet’s collar.

Is that me – wot?  daft hindlegs with all their daft numbers, wotever thems are.

That’ll be me, sir Gunther, the curly-haired Standard Schnauzer marches onto the showground number ten

Him! Sasha is shaking earflaps in disgust would be that jerry melt, wunnit?  

Attention, attention, muttwits all Gunther barks fiercely at his audience now follows ze demonstration of right posture, fine precision and ze German art of canine intellektuelles

He trots precisely to the designated starting point. 

I am prepared! he instructs fräuleinmate, his hindlegs companion.

“startingnow“ Armitage scritches“dogswotpoop,willbedisqualified“

He is one big German poop! Sasha barks.

Vatch and learn Gunther barks loudly sad English muttwits, French muttwits, Japanese muttwits…miscreant mutt-

“disqualified!“ Armitage scritches.

Vot!

“toomuchbarking,zerointelligence“

Zero intellek– sputters Gunther Ha! On four legs or two I am, by far, ze most intellektuelle. Sir, be advised, I am ver– 

“enoughnoise,disqualified…NEXT!“

Hoots of derision explode from English, French, Japanse an other miscreant muttwits. 

Schnell fräuleinmate, let’s spritzen some German roundlegs 

Gunther marches from the field of battle, disdainful snout held aloft.

“numberteleven,numberELEVEN” Armitage scritches “bringthedoggy,andnobarking”

“OhPoppet,that’sus” Stonks almost trips over the rope barrier to get at the showring.

Cultureless beetch the French Poodle daintily trills at Poppet.

In less time than it takes a large fourlegs to squirtz three times, end on end, Drizzle has already stuffed his snout with pizza bits, pork rinds, fried noodles, doner kebab, and sticks of chicken satay.  He indolently cocks a leg against the corner of the Cornish pasties and starts to – 

Put a stopper on that! PD Duncan barks, stepping into view, PC Andersen on a lead beside him.

Snifz yu, big fella Drizzle sez, mid squirtz and stopper wot?

Cocking a leg lyk yu owns the place

Squirtings against the law, officer? Drizzle raises his solid black snout, eyeballing the Thames Valley Police Dobermann.

Yes. Within proximity of hindlegs nosh Duncan eyeballs back, unblinking, snout twitching easily.

Within wot?

Close to, nearby, within range of…

So, whys that then?

Coz fourlegs are not permitted to squirtz in non-designated squirting areas

Hmm Drizzle flashes a big maw of teeth, slowly lowering his cocked leg.

Duncan steps forward to bump snouts thems are the squirting rules of law. Understood streetlegs?

Drizzle wants to fight. He snifz ready for it, expecting the PD to do the same, but the Dobermann stands rock steady, relaxed, disinterested.

Drizzle snorts and backs off. 

Thought so Duncan watches him slouch away and disappear into the crowds. 

Shaking his head, he forgets Drizzle and eyeballs PC Andersen right then, ‘bout time for some well-earned police lunch, constable?

Rainlick, wotz been dripping on and off all morning nows decides to turn it full on.

Better find some earflaps shelter

Earflaps battened down, Drizzle quickens his pace towards the pooping woods behind the park, his homeden. He stops in mid trot, snout up, sniffing colours of extreme interest: female colours. Lots of ‘ems.

Ah-ha!

One colour is particularly overpowering. Snout holes twitching – a sporting female on the cusp of ragging it red.

An ugly grey Whippet is eyeballing him from the distance.

Mind yor own dinner he barks in his direction.

Trotting on he soon finds himself amongst a pack of fourlegs.  Females all turn and snifz in his direction.  Their daft hindlegs companions don’t notice, eyeballing straight ahead at something – wotz the same direction that overpowering colour is sniffing from. He pushes through the pack to snout it out for himself.

Snifz vous some Frenchie whispers at him. Ordinarily that’s enough to get some sporting action going but all he wants now is to follow his snout towards the most exciting colour he’s ever sniffed. Today anyways.

In front of Drizzle, across an empty space, Armitage is scritching nonsense at Stonks. Drizzle begins licking his chops.

“nonsense,andnonsense”

And Stonks, in turn, is scritching nonsense at Poppet “turnleft”

..and turning left

More scritching.

..turning right

..sitting, lying down, and staying

Ha, we’re burying it, Stonks!

Erh, wot – wot?

Nah, easier I come with yu, init, not wait ‘round abouts here? 

“STAY!”

Nah, I’m coming with yuz.  Definitely coming with yu–

 “disqualified!”

“leaveoff,youold-erh,mrArmitage” Stonks is flicking handpaws at Armitage.

“Isaiddisqualified-nonsensenonsense-idiotcanine”

Givvus another chance, mate

“DISQUALIFIED!”

All of a sudden she don’t care.  She ain’t listening, ain’t sniffing, and ain’t being intellectual.  Coz Poppet’s life is being turned upside down, inside out.

Onto the show ground trots the most dog-damned solid stud muffin she’s ever sniffed. Trots right up to her without a care in the world and bumps snoutz.

Snifz yu, kitten he nuzzles

S-nifz – snifz yu

“PoppetNO,PoppetNO!”

Poppet ain’t part of this world no more.  She allows this stranger to go do something no other fourlegs is ever allowed to do beforenows.  To trot ‘round back and snout her necessaries.

Ooooh-ahhhhh female fourlegs from all ‘round the show area swoon in unison.

Before Stonks can overcome her shock, before Armitage can scritch any more nonsense – Poppet is flying for her life.  Following this wonderfully sniffy fourlegs off the show ground.  Flying headlong towards the exit of Herdwick pooping park, and beyond. 

“Poppet,comebackhere,youslut”

More to come from Usual Muttwits

Poppet : Westley Piddle Summer Fayre. Part Two.

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Part 2. Poppet

The bright hot ball is high in the sky.  Herdwick pooping park is full of hindlegs enjoying the summer fayre. 

“Cockfest,Poppet,purecockfest!” Stonks sweats orange-sniffy lust. One handpaw covering her chops in a frenzy of excitement, other tightly clutching Poppet’s lead.

Stop it! Yor sh-strangling me

Stonks don’t listen.  She’ surveying the lie of the land.  First, she spies the large area for best of show. Second, the lavvies. Third, the beer tent.  And fourth, eyeballs lock on, coordinate, and memorise all the fit looking cocksters wobbling ‘round abouts.  

Sh-stop it!

“oops!sorry”

Nows her turn.  Able to breathe again, Poppet lifts her snout, both snout holes twitching.  First, she snifz out other fourlegs – zero immediate threats. Second, she snifz for fit males – zero immediate eightleggers.  

Pff!

Third, the line of nosh stalls all sniffing right tasty: Greggs, KFC, Pizzahut, PizzaRiot, Jimmy Thai’s, the Istanbool kebab joint, Fong’s Noodles, and Best Cornish Bakery with its eyeball-popping variety of Cornish pasties. 

Blimmey! Get a nosh-load of all that 

As it happens, Stonks starts wobbling fast towards the hindlegs marker posts.

“needthelavvy” she scritches “needaslash” 

A sniffy blue purply-sniffy mist billows out from a row of portaloos stuck close to the entrance of the park, spreading its colours everywhere. Poppet knows the portaloo marker posts is where Stonks squirtz. Wotz wrong with just squirting on the ground, against a lamppost or corner of a wall? Hindlegs got no sense.

Hurry up Stonks, noshing time

Stonks wobbles inside.  A moment later Poppet can snifz today’s brekkers and yesterday’s take-out dinner. 

Two grey furrylegs are chasing each other across the branches above the portaloos, heading towards the nosh stalls.

Thems want noshing, too

While Stonks does her thing Poppet snifz out all the usual muttwits attracted to the nosh.

Greedy muttwits, the load of ’ems

Over by rural crafts tent are the Jack Russell brothers, Nutz and Boltz, a right pair of muttwits. Over by the beer tent is Gitorrf!, scrounging something alcoholic for Halfleg. Closer by is Giblets, the young Boxer, all big chest and tight little rear end. Thinks he’s dog’s answer to all the females.

Ah doggit, please don’t turn round as Giblets turns round, sniffing the air and eyeballing Poppet. He starts strutting her way, pulling along his hindlegs companion.

Oi, hello darling, Snifz yu

Snifz yu too, Giblets, but nows not a good time

They bump snoutz.

As it happens ‘nows’ is always a good time

Giblets muscles his way towards her rear, his stump wagging in anticipation of Afghan eightleggers. Poppet snaps at his earflaps.

Leave off, doggy

Ouch! he squeals.

He tries for another rear-ender, both fourlegs jostling ‘round in a tight circle.

Yu ain’t my type yer squash-snouted, short-haired mutt and gives him another nip.

Giblets leaps out of range.

“Oi,Giblets” his hindlegs companion scritches, hauling him off.

Laters, yer nasty witch

Nevers!

Poppet shakes her head, soft blond earflaps shaking it all about.  And that there’s the problem, init? Every dog-eared muttwit with plum bobs attached wants to try his chance, at every opportunity.

And none of thems are mister right! 

“that’sbetterPoppet,feelhumanagain” Stonks steps out the portaloo, shaking it side to side while wobbling down the three steps to the grass.  

“comeon,needtobangthepiss,beforetheshow” she makes towards the beer tent, hauling along Poppet.

Inside the beer tent the wotz-a-nice-dog-like-yuz-doing-in-a-place-like-this only gets worse.

Snifz yu love-bug!

Henry leave off, mate

The slab-sided English mastiff bangs into her suggestively submit, girl, submit

Woz a time Henry had all the big gun assets. But after the vets, sadly, he’s out of ammo.

Henry, I loves yers to death really, but…

Big Knickers ‘enry, nows

Yeah, so I heard, but no thanks

SUBMIT!

Nah means nah, gettit?

“leaveit,Henry,LEAVEIT!” Franks, his companion tries hauling him off, Guinness in one handpaw, English Mastiff in the other.  But Henry ain’t having any hauling off.

Only one thing for it Poppet howls an ear-splitting territory fit Get Away!  Get Away!  Get Away! all gnashing teeth and flying blond braids.

The beer tent flaps outwards in the pressure of fourlegs barking.  Franks tugging, hauling, dragging a bewildered Henry out of the tent in a shower of Guinness.

“naughtyPoppet,wot’swrongwithyu,naughtyPoppet,embarrassingmelikethat!” Stonks tap-tap-taps each word on Poppet’s chain.

Wotz wrong with me? Me?

“andstopyapping,yernastycreature” Stonks scritches in a rising red-sniffy temper, raising her handpaw to give Poppet a right slapping. Some old hindlegs in a white smock and white trilby hatfurs is giving thems hard eyeballs over at the Pims punch table. 

“oh,shite” Stonks smoothly turns slapping handpaw into waving handpaw “Armitage,thebleedin’judge,init” and starts wobbling fast towards the tent flaps “let’sgetouttaherePoppet”.

“notsofast,younglady” Armitage wobbles to block the way.

Pff! Good one, Stonks

“ha,finedisplayofcaninecontrol” Armitage scritchy slurs down his long snout, alcohol yellow-snifz pouring off him.

“erh…stagefrightbeforethebestofshow,misterArmitage” Stonks flutters. 

Armitage sways on his footpaws ”bestof…wot?”

“bestofshow,misterArmitage” Stonks repeats.

“cancelled!”  Armitage scritches, belching. 

Erh? Poppet slips an involuntary squirtz of shock.

“cc-cancelled?” Stonks gasps.

“aye,cancelled,andreplacedwith…doggyintelligence”

“dd-doggy?”

Intelligence! Wotz that?

“so,goodluckwiththat,ha,ha,ha” Armitage gurgles on his Pims.

Poppet’s turn to be half-dragged outside the beer tent, front paws bouncing off the grass.

“thatsillyold– ” Stonks scritches under her breath. 

Slow down yu ch-choking me again

“doggyintelligence!”

Ahhgaakaa…

Stonks stops, Poppet wheezing. A strong handpaw grips Poppet under the jaw and thrusts her snout level with Stonks’ own miniature hooter “listentome,Poppet” she threatens ‘yougonnawinthis…or,it’stheChinesetakeway”

Chnntkkssswy?

“beautyain’tenough” she continues “needbrains,too”

Needs wot?

“EDICATION,girl!”

?…

Poppet don’t have a hope in hell.  Stonks ain’t joking about the Chinese take-away, neither. They nosh fourlegs, thems pagans.

All Poppet wants right this moment is to trot away for good. Preferably sniffing behind some handsome stud muffin! 

If only she squats and squirtz on the grass.

Brekkers over and Drizzle is still hungry.  The clouds are working themselves up to give it a good green-sniffing rainlicking with thems endless whooshing scratchy noises. Seems lyk there’s never a time when rainlick ain’t making Drizzle wet. 

Ah, leave off he accuses the clouds noshing first, yer buggas

And that leaves the next big question: wotz on the noshing menu? 

Sitting on his haunches outside the High Street HSBC he weighs his noshing options on one front paw. Toe one: trot back down the High Street and hit Greggs. 

Nah, been there, noshed that

Toe two: turn left into Huntsville Road and hit Chuckles chippy.

Fish? Nah, need nosh with legs

Toe three: wander down Nelson Ave and hit KFC.  Chicken strips.  Chicken wings. Or chicken anything really, in thems bins ‘round back.

Sounds lyk a plan 

He quickly follows his snout, rainlick dripping from earflaps.

As it happens, KFC is close to Herdwick pooping park.  Gob loads of sniffy colours are wafting out the park. Overriding thems blue-purply hindlegs portaloos is the chop-slobbery orange-snifz of nosh.  Lots of nosh.

Worth a butcher’s hook he quickens his pace.

His snout don’t lie. Plenty’s going on in Herdwick pooping park. It points him through the front gate into a wonderful world of meaty-leg colours. 

Right noshfest, this! 

But nosh is not always enough. Eyeballing thems two Jack Russell brothers playing with some hindlegs pups invades his good humour. He recalls the colourful memories of his own hindlegs pups – lyk a sharp, confusing snifz in both snout holes. 

Ah… memory snifz, only.

Shakes earflaps. Shakes off the fugue.

In the heres and nows, what he really needs is a right tasty noshing followed by a bit of sporty eightleggers.  He stops and poops on the grass. Yes indeedy!  Contemplating a sporting mood is actually putting him into a hot-bloodied sporting mood.

Get ready juicy butts, I’m a’coming he licks his whiskers and shakes his way into the park.

”Going,goingtoChicago” 

Sorry but I can’t take yuz

Snifz of fresh fourlegs poop whacks Sparky up the snout. A foreign snifz he don’t recognise.  Some fourlegs in Westley Piddle he ain’t bumped snoutz with!  Worrisome. He starts tingling all over.

 “goingdown,goingdownnow” KevLegs scritches before noticing Sparky, trembly all over “wot’s upmate?” squatting down, snout to snout “Sparkymate?youalright?” 

KevLegs suddenly points with one handpaw “StarWarsdisplay,let’sgocheckitout”

There’s a stranger in the camp! Sparky raises muzzle and barks snifz yuz…Snifz yuz?

“maybe,I’llmeetPrincessLeia,haha” 

Sparky looks up with big eyeballs, twitching his snout at an awful sniffy loneliness suddenly rising off KevLegs. He hopes KevLegs can snifz up his own female. Guaranteed to make packmommy happy.  And a happy packmommy means plenty of happy food treats dropping under the table.  Happily, guaranteed, forever!

The star Wars exhibition is crap, corss. Local toy store displaying some naff spin-off cac, not even original 70s trilogy stuff.

“complete,shite!” KevLegs dismisses it and wobbles away.

“pissoffthen,HarrisonFord” the hindlegs vendor scritches after him “gostickyerlightsaberup–

Shut it, yer sniffy git! Sparky tugs at his lead and growls, still tingling from that worrisome stranger and in no mood for additional ag.

“harrisonforddon’tusealightsaber,yerknob” KevLegs shakes his head, disbelievingly.

Some hindlegs got no culture Sparky agrees.

Trotting on. 

Snifz yuz, Poppet

Snifz yuz, Sparky they bump snoutz.  

Sparky stares at her with eyeballs of pure worship.  All silver braids, sharp snout and glittery eyeballs. The fittest shield maiden in West Pid, no argument.

Getta load of that nosh she pants.

Yu in that dog intellectuals show, then? he asks, tingling more than ever.

Cors.  All dog, all intellectuals, that’s me shaking her pretty earflaps.

Well…all dog, anyways Sparky wags his tail in a big smile.

Yor so funny Sparky, I just wish..

..I was bigger, stronger, furrier, and not a whippet?

Well, yeah

“that’sanEDS1275,init?” Stonks scritches in amazement, staring at KevLegs belly 

“wot?” KevLegs mumbles, surprised that a female hindlegs has actually noticed his existence, ‘part from his mom.

“coolT-shirt”

Wotz she scritching about? Sparky looks up, equally surprised.

Forget it sighs Poppet she’ll eyeball any hindlegs with tackle

Tackle?

“comealongPoppet,” Stonks pulls Poppet away “wegotashowtowin”

Nice seeing yu Sparky

Me too – oh, and careful of that stranger?

Wot stranger?  

Both fourlegs prod at the air.

That stranger.

Urh? Poppet lifts her snout higher and snifz harder hmm!

KevLegs can’t stop eyeballing his own belly. The first hindlegs female that’s ever talked to him without a shop counter in between. 

Try not to fart, Kev

“Oh,youmeanthe…?” he starts to reply, recognition dawning, but she’s walking away, already history. 

“comeonSparkymate,I’mhungry” he sullenly scritches.

That’s the spirit, mate! hauling KevLegs towards the nosh stalls kicking off with tandoori kebabs this end and noshing ‘it all the way down to Cornish pasties that end. Ripe plan?

Kev lets off a whooooosh of breaking news in agreement.

More to come from Usual Muttwits

Usual Muttwits Comming Soon

© willowdot21

Hey, Ruby what are you waiting for?

Usual Muttwits and meeting Poppet.

Why what’s happening and when?

24th August, start of Westley Piddle’s Summer Fayre!

©Zozo&Jools

Starting Monday 24th August 2020 and running for the following 4 Mondays. At Usual Muttwits and here.

Usual Muttwits Comming Soon

© willowdot21

Hey, Ruby what are you waiting for?

Usual Muttwits and meeting Poppet.

Why what’s happening and when?

24th August, start of Westley Piddle’s Summer Fayre!

©Zozo&Jools

Starting Monday 24th August 2020 and running for the following 4 Mondays. At Usual Muttwits and here.

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