The Parcel

I’d assumed all door bells were designed to go ‘Ding Dong’. But of late, every time someone’s at our door a bird chirps in an electronic voice that makes me think of Sir Stephan Hawkins.
I wonder if it has something to do with all that talk these days of the asteroid 2012 DA14 barely brushing past earth. The last time an asteroid had hit the earth all our dinos were wiped out so we must now make do with the ones in the ‘Ice-Age’ films.
Apparently, the scientists at NASA are pretty certain this particular one is going to miss our planet by a mere 17150 miles-the closest fly-past by an asteroid in history!! (Read about it HERE if you want to)
 
 
Anyway, the other day our electronic bird chirruped and there stood this small man at our door with a large parcel.
‘Should I come in and help you open it?’ he asked rather un-interestedly.
‘No, thanks. We like to open our own parcels’.
 
Flurry of activity – shoving, pulling, tilting and turning- and in came the parcel!
I was shocked out of my fur when out came a large, doleful yellow Labrador that looked exactly like Buddy, a giggling, silly lady that smelled like Mummy and a peppy black and white dog that was an exact replica of Shadow!!

 

For Dog’s sake, whatever for was anyone sending us more dogs and people? And exact replicas too, for that matter!
I, Ginger, who was an only dog – Mummy and Daddy’s super-spoiled darling princess have already so graciously made way for my two boisterous brothers. My toys are no longer my own; in fact many are no longer ‘alive’. There’s hardly any stretching space on our bed and we must make do with sleeping in a bunch.
Where will this lady and the dogs fit in?

I was almost sinking into a deep gloom when the lady giggled hard and hugged me tight.
‘Silly, Ginger! Don’t be sad now. Come and check what we got.’
Why, it was Mummy! And just Buddy and Shadow fooling around and not some new dogs!
Thank Dogness!

And Hey! We got a smart new Dryer!

 

 

 

 

 

‘Look Shadow. Now we need not shiver in the cold after a bath for hours while we waited for our fur to dry up’.
‘But Ginger, Daddy always towel dries us and Mummy follows suit with her hair-dryer’, Shadow protested.
‘But it takes ages, doesn’t it?’ I said. ‘Wouldn’t it be wonderful to get in there wet and come out dry?’
 
‘No, Ginger. You can’t get in there,’ Mummy sounded rather stern.
‘All three of you come with a No Tumble Dry instruction’.
I didn’t believe her for one bit. I mean, I haven’t ever seen any labels on any of us. But we were un-ceremoniously pulled away and the door firmly shut.
 
The clothes get in there wet and come out dry and fluffy while it is still the towel and the hair-dryer for us.
But at least there are no damp clothes hanging about in the balcony or the utility room. May be we should re-do that room, hang some pictures and brighten it up.
Hmmmm…..
 

Wags,

Ginger

 

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