We had to walk with care this morning. The whole street lay under what looked like the topping of a white cake. Archie had told me to beware of frost and that we were in for bad weather yet again. Mistress had already put on her vest and long johns.
I was raring to go. As soon as we were outside, I was pulling her along, but she kept holding me back. That’s what I call mean. I can run fast and I can jump alongside any small pony. Mistress is a liability at the best of times, being somewhat unsteady on her feet. She was hopeless today. She fell twice and had to be helped up by a man with a terrior. Our leads got entwined and we spun in a dance together.
“Are you alright?” the man asked Mistress.
“I’ll manage, thanks,” she replied, with one of her thin smile.
The terrier had no manners at all. That damn dog barged into me from all sides, but I fended her off.
You shouldn’t be out on the roads,” I hissed.
“Bugger off,” she said.
The terrier edged back into the wall behind us, trying to bait me. I’m a pretty cool pug on the whole. I would just ignore her. It was a pity Mistress couldn’t follow my example. She was too busy putting out a friendly hand towards the terrier.
“What a sweet dog,” Mistress said, cooing at her.
(What an idiot bitch, I thought, meaning the dog, of course).
“A cross between a dachsy and a poodle,” said the man. “Very intelligent.”
“Is that right?” Mistress went on. “Pugs are pretty clever too, you know.”
“Not really my type,” the man remarked, “but I suppose they have a sort of jolie laide.”
“Absolutely,” Mistress agreed. “It’s these flattened-in faces, I guess, though I’m glad to hear they’re putting a stop to over-breeding.”
“Quite right, too,” said the man.
I bared my teeth at him and the bitch.
The terrier was coming up close again and this time, I snapped.
“Temper, temper,” she whispered. “I’m afraid you have a long way to go, Mr Pug.” The bitch lifted her tail and turned her back on me.
Not far into the future, it was going to be pay-back day.