Friday 2 November 2012

I explained to Ewan that although I, personally, had never seen any cheese in Heaven, I am sure that there was some there.  And that, if he was a good boy, one day he might get to find out for himself.

My simple friend seemed delighted to find that he might find some of his belovèd cheese in the place of eternal repose, and his tail wagged happily on.


"Actually, Jazz, I am especially glad that you came back when you did." barked Ewan.
"Oh yes?"
"Oh yes.  You see, mummy and daddy have got some new television channels in our house and one of them is all about how to make your own food and that, and so I has decided to go into business!  Oh yes!  I is going to make and sell my very own, home-made cheese!"

I know, I know... I should have left it there.  But curiosity got the better of me, I'll admit - and Ewan's enthusiasm was so infectious that I professed myself keen to know more.

"Well, I's already got a name for my product - "Charming Cheeses" - and Fizzy has helped me with a pose for the picture on the packets - "  At this point, I made the mistake of looking at my friend, and inadvertently leapt back in terror at the expression on his twisted and gurning face.  It was only when I recovered my composure that I realised that Ewan had adopted what he felt to be a winning smile.  "What d'you think?!" he continued.

"Erm..." I muttered.
"Exactly!" beamed Ewan, "I's so glad you agree! Brilliant!  Fizzy says that it's important that I looks processival on the packets."
"You mean 'professional'..."
"Yes, that's what I said.  Now then, I thinks you will agree that I have picked a product that no-one has EVER done before, and-"
"Ewan, there are LOADS of cheeses on the market.  Why, France alone has over 300 different types of cheese, and here in England-"
"But none of MY sort of cheese, Jazzy, that is the point.  Mine is new and special."
"How so?  What sort of milk are you using?  Cow's?  Sheep?  Goat's?"
Ewan denied each of these three options, getting progressively more excited with each shake of his head.
"Er... Buffalo? Camel's?  Um... OK, last guess. Yak."
"Noooooo....! Heeheeheeheeeeeeee!"

This was the moment when I began to get seriously concerned.
"Ewan," I barked, sternly, "WHAT have you been up to in my absence?!"

"None of these milks are what I's making my cheese from.  Ask yourself this, Jazz - what is the BEST and most yummy and healthy milk of ALL?!
"Ummmm..."
"I bet you is thinking Cow milk!!!"
"Well, that was my first thought."
"It's not Cow milk."

"Oh."
"Oh no.  Not Cow milk."
"Ewan - what sort of milk are you proposing to use?!"
"The very best of all, Jazzy."
"Go on..."

"Dog milk."

Oh G-d.  Oh G-d, no.

This was worse that I had imagined.  But further horrors were yet to come.  If you thought THIS was bad enough, just wait until you hear his business strategy  (and my intended role in it)...
I knew I'd left him to his own devices for too long - but I had NEVER anticipated this...

Be afraid, my friends, for, this time, your fears are justified...

Oh dear...