Rusty

[Marigold]

Rusty was hiding behind the shed. He was cold, hungry, lonely and scared. In his mind, he kept going over and over what had happened yesterday. When the men had come with the nets, and his mother and sister had been bundled into the van, Rusty had managed to slip away unnoticed, but now he was on his own.

Then he heard a little scratching noise.

 

[Marigold]

(HenGen)
It was Moley who he remembered from years ago. Do not worry said Moley, tomorrow’s another day. But I’m interested what you are Rusty because you don’t smell of fox. Are you a Norfolk Terrier? Anyway here’s a Christmas present I’ve bought you. As Rusty started to unwrap the present he couldn’t believe his eyes. It was a ................

 

[bigyetiman]

007 super spy disguise kit, no secret agent leaves home without one......

 

[Tweetypie]

Reluctant and unconvinced at first, Rusty decided to put on the grey furry coat and the spectacles that made his eyes look beady. Moley gasped out loud. It was like looking in the mirror. "Come on" he said to Rusty. "You can use my underground tunnel network"...

 

[Marigold]

Being a Norfolk Terrier, Rusty was a good digger, and he soon enlarged the hole enough to get down underground, where the hole opened out and he found himself in a network of wider tunnels. Moley hurried along in front of him through the many twists and turns in the maze, until finally they arrived at a big open space under the roots of a huge tree. “Come on,” said Moley, ‘Your spectacles are a bit crooked, put them on straight, keep your nose down, be very respectful, and we’ll ask the Chief for help.’

 

[Marigold]

As usual, there were a few moments after Jessica woke up when she felt almost normal. Almost able to face the day. Then, as it had done for the last three months, the heavy weight of depression and loss returned. She realised, once again, that Millie still wasn’t there, snoring gently in her basket in the kitchen. Her mouth twisted as she lived, yet again, that day when Millie had gone out in the garden, as usual, for her early morning pee, whilst Jessica put the kettle on for the early morning tea. Millie seemed to be taking a long time, so Jessica opened the back door and called her. Then the awful realisation that the garden gate was wide open - and Millie had gone.
That was back in June, at the height of lockdown, when lonely people, shut up at home, were clamouring for a dog, any dog - let alone a friendly, pretty little Norfolk Terrier. Illegal puppy farms were booming, and dogs were being stolen and sold on at high prices to inexperienced people who didn’t check the story the seller was telling them.
Jessica bit her nails to the quick, wondering if Millie’s puppies had been born safely - and what would have happened to her when her new owners realised she was pregnant. It was her first litter, and quite likely to have been two, or at most three puppies. If they had survived, they would be 10 weeks old by now.
In two months, it would be Christmas. Millie loved Christmas. Jessica looked again at the photo of her under the tree with her presents, waiting to open her latest squeaky.
‘Oh Millie, my love,’ she murmured.’Where are you now, my sweetheart?’

 

[bigyetiman]

Oh bless.

Look what Santa delivered to my neighbour at 8am. A Dexter calf

 

[Icemaiden]

Rusty found himself standing in front of a wrinkled and elderly mole, with white fur around his snout & a pair of thick glasses on his nose.
"What can I do for you?" the chief of the molehill asked.

"Well, it's about my sister, Millie", Rusty replied. I'm terribly worried about her. She's pregnant with pups, but she's disappeared. I haven't seen her since June...

 

[Icemaiden]

Meanwhile, in a land far, far away, where the locals spoke in a celtic language that sounded almost Welsh, or Breton, a weary traveller sat in a granite hewn inn. A crab sandwich in fresh crusty bread sat in front of her, with a tiny garnish of watercress & a pint of bitter with no discernable head. She quaffed deeply from her glass and sighed. "It really is ridiculous, the lengths you have to go for a pint of real ale these days if you don't like scotch eggs..."
Leaving her table unattended for a moment, she nipped to the Ladies.

She returned to her chair to find her beer undisturbed but the crab sandwich had vanished...

"Excuse me, landlord, but what's happened to my light lunch? It was here a moment ago..."

"Oh." said the publican. "I thought that the strawberry blonde was with you? She..."

 

[Hen-Gen]

......... sidled in, ate it and left. She ran into the street and saw, in the distance, a strawberry blonde getting into the back of a large car with what looked like a Norfolk Terrier on a lead. As the car sped away she just had time to memorise the number. HRH1. She was horrified. Surely her maj would not be stealing both crab sandwiches and Norfolk Terriers! Then a thought struck her. HRH could also stand for ............

 

[Icemaiden]

But surely, a fresh crab sandwich was a million miles from a pizza??? No. The HRH in question must be...

 

[bigyetiman]

Hector Rodriguez Habanera, international thief of anything from A-Z, really Bert Scoggins from Hackney, but you don't really attract strawberry blondes with a name like that, and an exotic name sounds so much better when.........

 

[rick]

Or (too slow but still as an alternative.)
… Hikki ‘Rosebud’ Hogsbottom, the famous singer and international cat burglar. That explained the crab sandwich maybe - but little else. She rushed back into the pub to pay the bill and pick up her coat. The real ale had been very refreshing but to miss out on the sandwich she had travelled all the way from Glasgow to find was just too much! Turning for the door she noticed something on the mat, a chicken feather? Rosebud must have dropped it. There was no time to lose, she opened the door and hailed a taxi. “Quick, follow that blond” she cried…

 

[bigyetiman]

The cab screeched away from the stand, the driver rather pleased to be following a sporty number with a glamorous blonde inside. Making a mental note to tell Dave who keeps boasting about the "Go Compare" man he had in his cab. He hurtled around the corner almost on two wheels, and looked in the mirror and did a double take, Hikki who he swore was a woman when she got in the cab, now looked like a man, " weren't you female just now"? "I theenk zee may be making zee mistake" said "Hector", adding quickly "STOP " as the sporty number pulled up by an alley way and the blonde got out with a small white dog under her arm, and entered a small doorway with neon lights above saying........

 

[rick]

... 'Grooming Parlour.' Hector left the cab after paying the fare and apologising for the confusion. There was a bar opposite the parlour and feeling that old identity crisis coming on - she needed a another ale! Hector found a nice round table in Nouveau style opposite the window and studied the parlour. The glass was frosted -it looked like a classy joint. Several shadows moved behind the glass but nothing that gave any clues to the fate of the sandwich. Hector was just about to give up when the door of the parlour opened and HRH emerged with both her and the terrier, now on a lead, bouffant!,,,

 

[Marigold]

..and back to its previous golden- brown colour, no longer white, and looking like a Norfolk Terrier again. HRH also looked like a totally different person. She was no longer blonde; she now sported dreadlocks, had a green mask with snakes on it, and wore a downmarket sweatshirt over ripped jeans and trainers. The little dog trotted off down the street with HRH, and Hector followed, cursing at having to leave yet another pint of ale unfinished and before she had even been served with her compulsory Scotch egg.