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Despatched to the Sin Bin
Adopted daughter traces her amazing roots. Jane Austen meets Bernard Cornwell meets Wilkie Collins!














El Springador rufflects on the theme of penance


If there's one good thing about Ash Wednesday, it's Tuesday night. Mmm, pancakes. In fact, mmm, food. My favourite. (Sorry, Hunti, 'favorite' – Herself tells me (G)RR technology does not always recognise the Queen's English, which only goes to show that it's as British as we are.)

The great thing is, I don't have to put on a hair shirt, I've already got one. And very glossy it is. I'm so proud of it, I leave souvenirs everywhere. Of course, some would have you think it's built into the model, so to speak, because there's an ongoing need to do penance.

You heard about the saga of the missing memory stick – well, she never discovered what happened to that, but I did manage to nick one out of her tower the other day. I had it sluicing and clattering around my teeth for ages until she prized open my jaw to see what was making the racket. It went slightly defunct after that. Dead duck. I think it was the yanking that did it, because, as I've proved in the past, I can roll an uncooked egg off the kitchen surface with my paw, hold it in my mouth and carry it into the sitting room where I disgorge it intact on to the carpet at her feet all in one smooth-as-cream operation. It's one of my country skills, you see.

Anyway, she was miffed to put it mildly. The air was mauvish. She'd spent 28 GBP on it only the day before and had to order a new one! But I did get my supper in the end. Phew! That was a narrow squeak.

The whole thing was a monumental let down. USB sticks shouldn't be treat-shaped. I wuz robbed. They're not for good boys. They taste of cooking foil after you've snuffled all the smell off 'em. I wouldn't even give one to a cat, but if humans find stuff you can't eat so priceless, you doggedly pawsevere to find out just what makes them tick. Ye dogs! They're your meal-ticket, for howling out lowd. I thought it was a bit odd plugging a treat into the computer, but I have heard of little persons posting Marmite toast in the video-player, so it sort of made sense.

I'm always getting into a spot of bother. The doghouse décor is very familiar to me, so I think maybe it's time to tackle my impawfections. Gluttony is one of the Seven Dogly Sins, you know. I reckon I'll be fasting right there with the best of 'em – at least I won't be bone idle - as to the other kind, it's like that woman says in Lark Rise to Candleford. “Food is my one weakness.”

I bet she kept a Springador. If she didn't, he missed a good home!



The dog who keeps track of the plot.


 (More of my adventures at  http://www.redroom.com/galleryimage/jack-herself)   



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I had two types of pancakes

I had two types of pancakes - savoury and sweet. Maple syrup on both (though encouraged to have yogurt on the savoury). And bacon and sausage. And white wine. Um-um - a fine religious experience.

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It's enough to turn me into a carnivore!

But what did you have for main course?