Romance and crime with warmth, heart and charm
Dexter: How do you do that, Arch?
Archie: What?
Dexter: Get biscuits to go in your mouth.
Archie: Mum throws the biscuit, you watch it, and you grab it out of the air, Pipsqueak. Easy-peasy.
(Dexter tries a few times and fails)
Dexter: I can’t do this.
Archie: Yes, you can. Watch me. Remember to open your mouth, otherwise it’ll bounce off your nose.
(Dexter watches and tries again)
Dexter: Yay!
Dexter: Arch! Look! Mum’s obviously left this bowl of porridge just for me. Yum!
Archie: No, Pipsqueak! No! She’s only put it on the table while she gets her coffee. This is worse than when you nearly rolled in fox-poo this morning. Get down from the chair. I know I told you the Goldilocks story, but you really are NOT supposed to help yourse— Uh-oh. Your ID tag just clinked against the bowl. Loud enough for Mum to hear. You are so in trouble. Don’t fib to her that I encouraged you…
[Dexter is caught red-pawed helping himself to the porridge – with his face in said bowl – and is told off. New porridge has to be made for author’s breakfast.]
Archie: See. I told you she’d be cross. Now just sit and wait nicely. You’re allowed to lick your lips or even dribble over her knees, but in future just wait for her to finish her share. You’ll get your porridge.
Dexter: The trouble with porridge is that it’s so NICE…
[Author note: this was one of those super-lucky – or should I say super-licky? – shots where both dogs licked their lips at the same time; it’s not a ‘live’ pic. And, yes, Dexter really did try to scoff my porridge from the bowl!]
Dexter: I’m getting really tall.
Archie: That’s because you’re little and you’re growing, Pipsqueak.
Dexter: No, I mean *really* tall. I can almost see out of the window.
Archie: No, you can’t. You can jump up on the sofa, but you can’t see out of the window.
Dexter: Bet you I am. Two biscuits.
Archie: Done.
Dexter: Look out of the window.
(Archie does so, and Dexter joins him.)
Dexter: See? You owe me two biscuits…
Dexter: Arch, it’s the hottest day of my life! And it’s horrible.
Archie: Never mind, Pipsqueak. Thankfully we don’t get too many days like this. The best thing to do is lie by Mum (so you get cool air from the tower fan – I’m going to sit on the sofa so I get air from the other fan). And Mum will put a wet tea towel on us to help cool us down.
Dexter: I normally chew tea towels, but I don’t have the energy to chew *anything* today. Or to bark at the fan. I’m just TOO HOT.
Archie: I know, Pipsqueak. Me, too. Just drink lots of cold water and have lots of naps. Once the back garden’s got some shade in it, Mum will fill your paddling pool and you can splash about…
Dexter: Tell me a bedtime story, Arch.
Archie: I’m trying to go to sleep, here, Pipsqueak.
Dexter: Pleeeeeeease? Pretty please with extra biscuits?
Archie, sighing: All right. Hansel and Gretel. Once there were two children. They went through the forest.
Dexter: What’s a forest?
Archie: Oh, yes, you haven’t been there yet. It’s lots of trees. Like the bit we walk through to the park. Anyway, in case they got lost, Gretel sprinkled a trail of breadcrumbs behind her so they’d be able to find their way out.
Dexter: Didn’t the birds just scoff the breadcrumbs, so they would’ve got lost anyway?
Archie: This is a story, not real life.
Dexter: You make Mum do that with your kibble. Sprinkle a trail from you to your bowl.
Archie: It takes longer to eat — and that means someone has to hold you for ages so you don’t scoff my dinner. Hahaha.
Dexter: And so you get all the attention. I’m not sure I still love you.
Archie: Yeah, you do. Anyway. They found this cottage made of cake and started scoffing it. A bit like you dive into my bowl like a hooligan, scatter my dinner everywhere and scoff it.
Dexter, ignoring the comment about dinner: You can’t live in a house of cake. What if it rains? It’d be soggy and collapse.
Archie, sighing: I told you, this is a story. The witch who owned the cottage came home and said they could live with her.
Dexter: But they ate her house. She must’ve been cross. Why did she let them live with her?
Archie: She had an evil plan: to fatten them up and eat them! [Does blood-curdling scary growl.]
Dexter: This isn’t a very nice story.
Archie: It’s all right, Pipsqueak. They escaped and followed the breadcrumbs home. And they all lived happily ever after. Night night.
Dexter, grumbling: That was a rubbish story…
Dexter: Arch, what’s Chloe doing? What’s that green thing floating down?
Archie: It’s a balloon, Pipsqueak.
Dexter: So it’s like a ball?
Archie: Sort of. You leap up and head it. Don’t use your teeth or it’ll go bang. You can’t squeak it like our tennis balls. Just bop it with you nose, like you bop Mum’s new tower fan. Only don’t bark at it because that’s getting really annoying.
Dexter: So you sit and wait, and then you jump.
Archie: That’s right.
(Dexter plays balloon football… and enjoys it.)
Dexter: One, two, skip a few, ninety-nine, one hundred! Coming – ha ha, found you.
Archie: Pipsqueak, that is extreme cheating.
Dexter: But the ‘seek’ bit of hide and seek is boring… unless there’s a treat.
Archie: All right. You can hide.
Dexter: I’ve got the best place. Watch!
Archie (sighing) : Puppies. You have to be nice and pretend. It’s like toddlers — you say, ‘Ooh, where’s he hiding?’ and they just give themselves away. Except obviously puppies don’t giggle, they wag their tails…
Dexter: Arch, what’s a haircut?
Archie: Horrible.
Dexter: Riiiiight. But what’s a haircut?
Archie: It’s where Mum lures you into the utility room with a biscuit — and then she shuts the doors. And then she gets out the clippers and shaves your hair.
Dexter: What, all of it? So you’re bald, like Dad?
Archie: No. You still have hair. Just it’s a lot shorter. Dad doesn’t have much, so when she put the clippers on him there isn’t any hair left.
Dexter: We share clippers with Dad?
Archie: No. We have our own clippers. I hate having haircuts. It takes AGES. And it’s not very dignifying.
Dexter: Do you get sausage after?
Archie: Hmm. We might get ham. We only have cold sausage right now because of puppy class.
Dexter: Ham’s good. Go and have your haircut, then ham it up — geddit? — so we both get ham.
(Post haircut)
Archie: You know what everyone’s going to say, now my hair’s as short as yours. They’re going to say you got shrunk in the wash… And you’ve got your eyes closed. Honestly. What have I taught you about posing for pictures, Pipsqueak? Eyes open and look sad. (Then everyone feels sorry for you and sends treats.)
Dexter: Arch, I’m ready for more important work now.
Archie: No, you’re not, Pipsqueak. You’re four months and two days old.
Dexter: But I am ready. I am! I’ve mastered sit-at-feet-during-revisions, I’ve mastered remind-Mum-it’s-lunch, and I can jump up on the sofa AND I can put my entire front legs on your back when we have a wrestle, so I’m big enough.
Archie: All right, then. If you think you’re so great — sit on Chloe’s lap and have a read through. Make notes in track-changes where you think Mum ought to do something different.
Dexter (reads furiously) : Well, OK. There aren’t any dogs, any sausages, or any bones in this book. I think Mum needs extra revisions.
Archie: She doesn’t, she needs a cuddle.
Dexter: Nope. Extra dogs. Here, here and … here.
(with apologies to Monty Python)
We are span-i-els and we’re OK
We sleep all night and we play all day
We chew up shoes, we dig big holes
When we’re excited we pee
On Wednesdays we have puppy class
(Archie: psst, Pipsqueak, it’s Tuesdays)
(Dexter: I know but we’re doing the song)
And sausages for tea
We are span-i-els and we’re OK
We sleep all night and we play all day
We chew our toys, chase tennis balls
We like biscuits that crunch
We like porridge for breakfast
And cheese toasties for lunch
We are span-i-els and we’re OK
We sleep all night and we play all day
We go for walks (we hate our leads —
We’d rather run around)
We like barbecued chicken
And whatever we can scrounge
We are span-i-els and we’re OK
We sleep all night and we play all day…