One morning I was minding my own business, in the back yard, just chilling you know, snuffling around, sticking my nose into everything, checking out stuff when suddenly Mom calls us inside. She cheats and rattles the biscuit packet at us so we come running and quick-sticks – slam goes the door.
You’d think I’d have learned by now, but somehow the sight of that biscuit packet just addles my brains – all sensible Bassetly thought flees from my fine furry head.
She opens the gate, a truck roars up the driveway and disappears round the corner of the house – where we can’t see what’s happening.
Tried pawing and gnawing the windowpane to get some attention but zip, nada, zulch! No reaction at all.
Got so boring staring at nothingness that I gave up and had a sniff at Alpha’s chess set instead. All those lovely little woody bits, lined up, just whispering…
Zed-Boy… eat us… eat us.
Mom gave me the evil eye so threw my long bod into our basket in disgust. Lucky it was one of those sort of chilly days when an adorable basset hound does not mind snuggling down in his naffy flowery basket for a nap instead of rooting in the garden.
A looooooooong time later, when we were allowed outside again, there was this huge beastie, squatting on our lawn – right where I had buried some of my most excellent, smelliest bones.
I barked at it using my deepest, scariest woof – hhhrroof hhrrooof.
But the evil creature refused to budge, just sat there. Skunk danced around the back step, snarling and yapping.
After some cautious sniffing we figured out it was some kind of woody beastie and it looked like it was here to stay.