Flames and sparks and noise and smokey stuff.
Some huge, fire breathing monster that looked like it was going to eat the moon.
I tried barking at it to get it to go away, but it just carried on barking back.
I was obliged to beat a retreat… a tactical decision to defend the back of her knees. You never know, there could have been a stealth attack on her ankles…
Bonfire night, she called it. Fireworks. I’d forgotten ‘bout it since last year. Then there were only what she called ‘a few damp squibs’ going pouf in the night. Nothing much to worry about.
This year, though… Whoosh… fizz…bang…
All night.
I tried telling her about it, but she just called me a daft dog.
I had a burrow under the cushions, but she growled at me… something to do with the lump of brie I’d…
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Tell her she’s very welcome! I really enjoyed this post! @v@ ❤
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Ani says thank you 🙂
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