Archie and 1 were chomping on ‘Rodeo’ bars in the kitchen, with the afternoon play on the radio. Normally, we would both be listening, but right now, my friend had a serious glint in his eye.
“We have problems in this house, son,” he said. “And in yours.”
There was silence while I contemplated this statement. Archie had a wisdom beyond his years. He stood as a barometer for the weather in the Fuller household and we were, without doubt, facing storms ahead.
“Lesley and Nathan are fighting like bantam cocks,” announced Archie. “We have Mr Fox as a new neighbour: your mistress is heavily in debt and Marek is playing with counterfeit money.”
“What does counterfeit mean?” I asked.
Archie rolled his eyes. “Where did you get your schooling, son?” he said.
I kept my mouth shut and swallowed the last of my Rodeo bar.
“Whenever I have a problem with a word,” Archie went on, “I consult my ‘Dogmatis’”.
“Oh,” I replied, feeling small in my own lack of knowledge.
“To be found on the shelf above where Nathan keeps his toenail clippers,” Archie declared.
His pink tongue lay on his lower lip. My friend, Archie, was thinking hard.
“They got the painting back, you know,” I said. “Mistress’s ancestor. Now she has no money at all.”
Archie gave a grunt. He couldn’t disagree.
What to do next, I wondered? Archie and I were going to have to come up with something fast.
Before the bacon sandwiches ran out.
We dogs will keep you posted.
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