It's A Dog's Life

This story is based on when i tried to watch the Great British Bake Off. 😂 Seeing as it's nearing Christmas i thought- lets make it a bit more 'Christmassy.' Hope you like it! 

It's a Dog's Life

Snow is beginning to gather on the window ledge and the screaming of the wind rushes down the chimney making the flames quiver. This heat is stifling. I’m panting like a hippo running in a marathon. I stretch out on the chair bearing my bottom to the world as a gust of wind whirls and whistles outside.

Lifting my weary head to look through the doorway, I see Mummy entering with a large rectangular box on legs. Instantly, I leap off the armchair to have a good look at it to see if it’s friendly. What is it? Mummy props it up against the wall and clicks a button on top of the mysterious box. I jump back in fright as blurry pictures appear on the wall opposite. I realise it’s the Great British Bake Off Christmas Special. The picture comes into focus and I stare in awe.

Specky, Wriggly and Bunnet Boy enter the room gripping mugs of cocoa in their hands. Wriggly sits next to Mummy but then she darts to me… and then she’s on the ground. Finally, she resumes her seat by Mummy and only grudgingly stops wriggling about! Once everyone is snuggled on the couch, Mummy presses the play button and moving images begin to play on the wall. A beautiful Victoria Sponge cake with tempting frosting piped neatly around the edges dazzles my eyes. Transfixed, I watch as more cakes are brought to the front of the screen. I stand on the red couch and try to eat the goodies that have magically glued themselves to the wall. I screw up my face in disgust. Those cakes taste like plaster and emulsion. No wonder the beardy man tasting it doesn’t seem too happy.

Mummy pauses the images and walks into the kitchen. Great! My dinner at last! But she doesn’t get my dinner. Instead, she pulls out a tray of mince pies. I let out a low growl. How could she!? I’m watching food I can’t eat, and now she’s making food I can’t eat! Even worse, I haven’t had a reply from the letter I sent the other day – pleading to be allowed to eat human food. Something must be done…

They’re all getting up. Now’s my chance! A big drink of water and a shake of my beard – the trap has been set. All is going to plan. They are still heating up custard to pour over the pies. I should probably lie under the table now to avoid suspicion.  Specky, Wriggly and Bunnet Boy take their mince pies into the living room. Urgh! It didn’t work. Maybe Mummy will fall for the trap. When she’s finished taking her bowl through, Wriggly darts up again towards the bathroom shouting, “Don’t start without me!” Perfect! I lie in wait. As she comes skipping back through the kitchen, she slips on the tiled floor that I cleverly dripped water onto and smacks her head on a sharp corner of the wall, falling to the ground. Everyone rushes towards her. Oh oh! I peer at her head, slightly concerned. Her hair is stained red with blood. I didn’t mean to hurt Wriggly. Just cause a distraction. Maybe I went a bit too far… Oh well, I’m sure she’ll be fine. Wriggly often overreacts. At least I can guzzle a pie without anyone noticing.

Wriggly is helped into a chair and is howling her head off. Bunnet Boy stands beside her, mortified. His face is deathly pale and looks like he’s just seen a ghost. Specky’s doing her best to help – holding iced peppers to Wriggly’s head. Although, I don’t understand why she’s decided that now’s the best time for a Harry Potter quiz. In fact, she’s acting as if she’s John Humphreys from Mastermind, insistent that she answers each question that’s fired at her. Ahh yes – classic Specky, always taking her role seriously. Mummy’s reassuring Wriggly and tells Specky to continue quizzing her to try and keep her mind off things – but I think Specky just really wants a quiz. Mummy’s not helping much now. She’s disappeared behind the baby gate upstairs, talking into the rectangular pink thing that she holds to her ear. I must play my part convincingly. I lick Wriggly’s cheek. She fondles my ears lovingly, but really I’m just licking the frozen pepper juice that is now dripping down her face.

Mummy is coming downstairs, wearing her waterproof. A walk!? A bit late, but okay!  She pushes me down as I try and jump up on her. Now she’s up close I can see that she’s carrying Wriggly’s jacket too. Something isn’t right. Mummy walks into the kitchen and over to Wriggly who is helped into the jacket. I follow. What is going on? Mummy and Wriggly walk to the door. A few peppers fall out of the bag and I bound forward like a small child presented with a bag of sweets. I gobble it up but spit them out quickly. The juice tastes much nicer than the real thing. Eww! I hear the front door slam. All is silent. The tension is broken by Bunnet Boy who begins to cry. In an attempt to make him feel better, Specky puts Alvin and the Chipmunks on the wall and they cuddle on the couch.

Unsurprisingly, Bunnet Boy asks for a chocolate. I sniff. There he is asking for sweets and I haven’t even had my dinner yet! I must take action.

Slipping into the kitchen, whilst Bunnet Boy and Specky lounge on the couch, I spot my goal. The mince pies are sitting unsupervised on the counter where Mummy left them.  I jump up and my front two paws land neatly on the surface. Quick as a flash, I gobble every last morsal. Nom nom nom! On my way out, I see that the cupboard that hides away the rubbish is slightly ajar. I tiptoe over and push my nose into the bin, but before I can scoff many dustbin delights, I’m caught red nosed and interrogated for a whole two minutes by Specky. “What did you do with the mince pies? Why were you in the bin?” before I was pushed unceremoniously into the infamous Baby Dan Jail. Was it really worth it? Yes. I think so. I lick the tasty remains of the dustbin delights out of my beard.

I awaken with a start. Looking around, it’s clear that I’m still imprisoned in Baby Dan Jail. How long have I been in here? I let out a piercing whine. “Oh Basil!” shouts Specky from the living room. She had evidently forgotten me. “Are you a sorry boy?” I stick out my tongue to show her I am sorry. Apparently, she understands because she unlocks the gate, and at this point Mummy and Wriggly return. I jump for joy. Mummy! Wriggly! The pepper juice has solidified, leaving a sticky residue on Wriggly’s hair and face. It tastes even better a few hours later! I give Mummy a lick too, just in case she has any juice on her, but no luck, so instead I continue to lick Wriggly. My tongue never gets bored.

Hang on. This is Christmas Eve. Don’t they put food out tonight for the big fat guy in the red suit?

Based on a true story.