What we are up to

Dog Days #8

by Nathan Jones

Dear Bob,

Have you missed me? Kenny has. He thinks I was away because I am ashamed of him, and now he's relieved. You can tell from the look on his face. No you can’t. You can’t tell anything from the look on a dog’s face apart from what they have in their mouth. Don’t talk to me about what Kenny has in his mouth.

I am ashamed of him, as it happens. Not only does he regularly let one off without waiting for me or you to pull his finger, but last week he had a poo behind the door in church just because I was singing Sexual Healing. Also, in the park yesterday he ate a poo. Practically all that is left is for you to catch him wanking over a doggy-coat website, or putting his paw up his bum.

I like that about his face, actually. You can project any emotion you like onto him. It really instills camaraderie this aspect of dogdom. A good example of this is when you were storming round the flat last night brandishing a sock and a pair of undies, going Why is it always me that picks stuff up, And Why is Kenny in such a bad mood? Actually, you could say the same of most animals. When was the last time you saw a horse in a huff?

Right now Kenny is lying in a patch of sun on the sofa dreaming about a beautiful girl blow-drying her auburn hair and singing from the corner of his bed while he drinks a nice cup of tea. He looks happy and content. (She has just pulled his finger.)


Richie Pen and Trumpy Ken