Direktlänk till inlägg 4 augusti 2008
Yesterday, when I napped, my Mom dragged suitcases from the cellar. I come whizzing from behind the pigs cage to see what it´s all about. "No, no", said Mom in a desperately jovial tone of voice. "Mustn´t sit little self on suitcase."
One can then bring the house down by toddling stolidly off and returning with the Toy of the Moment, which one drops into the nearest bag. "No no, dont´t pack suitcase. Not going with Mom to Turkland", implores Mom with a distinct and guilty quaver. "Viggo and Uno are going to the Country! Wouldn´t that be Nice?"
So off we went, my Uncle Uno (of the Swedish Vallhund persuasion) and Myself, Mac Viggo, Scottish Terrier, of course.
I brought my own waterbowl, a dish for my food, my hairbrush, comb, lead and collar, my cosy bed and also a surprise - my puppypen, almost forgotten. Uno brought his Food.
En route we sat in the car and had a good view of the countryside. The seven pigs (ie cavies) travelled in the own home, a big cage with houses and carrots, etc.
In the country there is a Garden, which affords endless opportunities to romping about with likeminded. In the garden there is a House, where we are supposed to stay. The house is filled with peasant dogs, most of them look like Uncle Uno. And cats! Another total surprise! We are all bossed about by humans who are in charge of the Food.
"The more the merrier, as the saying goes in the Reform Club!"
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