Tuesday 19 August 2014

"Mmmmmffffth...!"

The newly-arrived Betty merely stared.

"Pppffffthhtthththhhhh!"

Gisèle was shaking and biting down, hard, on a corner of a cushion as she perched on the sofa.  "Mmmmrrrffthhh!"

"Oh, for heaven's sake, just get ON with it!" snapped Betty.
"BWWWAAAAHAAAHAAAAHAAAAAAAAA!"  The little Parson Jack Russell Terrier gave herself over to the hysterical laughter which she had been trying to conceal.  She rolled over, cackling madly, falling backwards off the sofa and landing on the floor hard on her back.  Giz merely laughed on, lying on her back, all four legs and paws paddling in the air.  Betty just stared at her with pursed lips, trying to maintain her dignity.

I should explain.  Betty, as we generally know her, has tousled, attractively unkempt fur, as shown in this picture:

THIS is how she looked upon her recent return:

Giz laughed and laughed until she developed a slight cough and had to desist.  Betty simply shook her head and darkly muttered "Oh, *** off, you poisonous ginger dwarf..."

Apart from this - and the fact that it took another three days before Giz could look at Betty without grinning - their reunion was happy and joyful; the two friends delighting in each others' company.

Less jolly was Gisèle attempt to account for one of our recent unexplained phenomena.  In recent weeks, a "crop circle" has appeared in a field not far from here.  This is what it looks like (and, for the record, I don't believe that aliens are even tacitly responsible for these examples of cereal-killing):



"IS it aliens, d'you reckon, Gizzle?" asked Betty one afternoon.
"No, of course not!" yipped Giz, "It's obvious, you can tell just from looking at it!"
"Seriously?!"
"Yes!  It must have happened when you decided to have a sit down on your fatty bum in that field!"  and before her last yip had died away, she fled.  After only a moment's hesitation, Betty tore upstairs after her, yelling.  Giz neatly diverted into the airing-cupboard and hopped up onto one of the high shelves, where her pursuer could not follow.
"Come here!" roared Betty
"No!" piped Giz cheekily.
"You come down here right now!"
"No!"
"Why not?!"
"Because you will bite on me until I am all sore!"
"You'll have to come out of there some time, if you ever want to eat, drink or go to the toilet again, and I will be waiting here, right outside the door when you do."  And, with that, she settled herself on the landing outside the airing-cupboard to wait for her tiny tormentor.

After some twenty minutes, Betty's regular slow, heavy breathing made it clear that she had fallen asleep.  A few seconds later, the airing-cupboard door opened a crack and a tiny bright brown eye peeped out.  Seeing the sleeping Betty, Giz carefully clambered down from her shelf and quietly tip-clawed out and past Betty.  She crept downstairs, had a drink, and put herself to bed.  By the morning, Betty (though somewhat mystified as to why she had been sleeping on the landing and not in her bed) had forgotten that she was pretending to be cross with her little friend - for I have no doubt that she was never truly angry; the girls are now such firm friends as to render this impossible.

Good night.

Tuesday 5 August 2014

Betty returned home shortly after the events described in the previous entry - but not before she had exhorted a solemn promise from Gisèle that she would not seek out the company of the buzzard and her chicks again.  Little 'Sèle was more than happy to accede and faithfully swore that she would not venture even close to the raptors' nest.

It goes without barking that, the instant she had returned to the location, she immediately bent her steps to the buzzards' nest and greeted her feathered "friend" heartily.  The third egg had hatched, which was the cue for more squeals of delight from Giz.  I won't insult you with a repetition of the "conversations" that ensued.

Back on safer ground, at home, Gisèle was enjoying the sun in the garden when the sound of earnest voices drew her out into the street and up to the hedge at the side of the pavement, where a group of her friends were congregated and chattering animatedly about something unseen.
"Stick your paw in it, Thunder!" miaowed Kittenjasper to his feline brother, "Go on! It'll be fun!"
"Yeah, go on Thunder!" echoed Archie, the little Jack Russell from the end house. "I dare you!"
"Honey, do YOU dare me?" mewed the hesitant Kittenjasper to the ginger cat who made up the feline trio in his house.
"I wouldn't do it," replied Honey coolly, "But you should do it, Jas!"

Her interest piqued, Gisèle took a closer glance at the focus of their attention.  This is what she saw:

Intrigued, she joined the group.
"Gizzle!" yapped Archie excitedly, "Here are brains and beauty in one lovely package!"  Archie was smitten with Gisèle the moment he'd first set eyes on her and had never given up hope of being successful in tempting her to his basket, despite her lack of encouragement.  Sweet 'Sèle almost never considered any dog smaller than a spaniel to be worthy of her attention.  "Come and get Thunder to stick his paw in this!"

She padded over.  As well as Archie, Oliver (the three-legged cat who lived with Archie) Kittenjasper, Thunder and Honey at the hedge, Peaches and his tabby friend were watching from a short distance away, grinning.  (Yes - you may well be surprised on learning this if you are a regular reader of this blog - Peaches does indeed have a friend.  The unfortunate fallout from Gisèle's ill-starred "I Love Peaches Party", described here and concluded here, seemed to have ultimately benefited everyone in the street and taught Peaches himself the value of behaving nicely.  Very cheering.  More of this development to follow...).

"Come on, Thunder!" goaded Archie again, "Stick your paw in it, just for a minute, it'll be really funny!"  The members of the little group giggled and continued to encourage Thunder.

"Don't TOUCH it Thunder!" yipped Gisèle,  "You idiots!  That is a wasps' nest!"
"No!" mewed Kittenjasper to his brother, "Honestly, stick your paw in, it'll be fun!"
"Yeah!" agreed Archie.
"You stick YOUR paw in, Arch!" miaowed Thunder.
"I'm not putting my paw in that!" barked Archie with a grin, "It's a bl**dy wasps' nest!  I'm not stupid..."

They all laughed, including Thunder, and began to disperse.  Though of quite how hearty their laughter would have been had one of the buffoons ACTUALLY shoved a paw into the wasps' nest I remain unconvinced (I do not forget the occasion when my pea-brained friend Ewan challenged the occupants of such a nest to a game of football - see here).

Shaking her little furry head, Gizzy ignored Archie's clumsy attempts to flirt further with her and returned to the house.  She had some work to do - for Betty returns on the morrow!

Good night...

P.S.  Betty, Gisèle and I (along with my partner) are supporting Pupaid - you might want to head on over and add your voice of support: Pupaid website.  Thank you.  JHS