where the writers are
Pioneering Pup Uncovers Writers' Lair
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by Jack, your bony fido newshound.

The dog who keeps track of the plot.

Wey-hey, folks! So where's the gig? In the Red Room, I guess. Let me check the boundaries for you. OK, the name's Jack. Twenty-five killergrams of lightning reaction and a bundle of laughs if you're not trespussing on my patch. You've heard of matadors, toreadors, troubadors and labradors - well, I'm a Springador (note capital 'S'.) Pawtrait coming soon to a screen near your keyboard.

When God created Springadors, it was in the full flush of genius. The sun was shining. The birds were singing, cats were catatonic, cyclists had all got punctures and joggers were deadbeat. It was an absolutely dognificent day! There was no cause to go back to the drawing-board umpteen times over. He looked down from the great kennel in the sky and thought to himself that he hadn't been concentrating on the task in hand the day he devised homo sapiens. The species left a lot to be desired. Never mind that account in the Good Book about the sixth day, HS was definitely a Friday Afternoon Job when he was dog-tired after his fling with Jurassic Park.

For instance, if Adam hadn't been so bone-stupid, it would have occurred to him to kick up a dust and bury his spare rib in the garden, instead of which God was left to dream up a way of putting it to use. Result: double trouble! And if Eve had been a bit more fly with the apple, she'd have known how to spit out the pips and leave them in a neat row on the sofa instead of bequeathing perennial ruin to mankind and the endless wobblers and cobblers flesh is heir to.

No, God needed a guiding paw, a cautionary tail, a pair of quizzical ears and a bark up the right tree to keep humans on the other end of the lead and safely corralled by their own hearth where they belong. He needed Springies to reveal the true meaning of Unconditional Love. It's no walkies in clover, I can tell you. In fact, I sometimes wonder who, exactly, is prolonging WHOSE active life!

But this is overrunning the tail, as is my wont. I'm a pedigree crossbreed. Yes, I am. Honestly! It was an inspired conjunction for the planet. In looks, I favour the pater who was a debonair Lab, black as the ace of spades, but in temperament, I take after the distaff. My dad came courting a big blonde on our farm in the Welsh Molehills. Only trouble was he took a shine to the wrong resident. Well, you couldn't blame him.My mum was drop dog gorgeous, a KC reg. English Springer, ginger and white, and a very sparky girl.You can't run one of those on empty. It was a whirlwind romance. He proposed and disposed in record time. Then he beetled off, leaving her to bring up a clutch of puppies single-pawed.That's when my native litterary talent came into its own. I was top dog straight off! I whipped the stragglers into line at suppertime, licked their snuffles, sorted their squabbles and nipped any tantrums right in the short and curlies. Someone had to put paid to all that skeltering off my paw mum's flanks!

I was a precocious little tyke in those days, it's true. You're inclined to grow up fast when life foists on you the responsibilties of Head of Pack before you're on Adult Maintenance, let alone got your dogtorate from Barkly.

Anyhow, to cut to the chase, I left the land of the Red Dragon and was borne off to the South Downs of England to live with Herself, who's a writer, and Big Bruv who's an eco-freak as well as a techno-geek and who does a lot of sweeping pet fur out of PCs. (How does it get behind picture-glass?) I soon settled in. The only problem was, some seagulls were nesting on the roof and set up a terrible din in the small hours. Had to resort to tugging a pillow through the dog-flap and shredding it to feathers to let them know what to expect if they didn't beat it. That put the wind up their tails, no kidding. They had to abandon the nursery. Showed them who was really ruling the roost!

Yikes! I must be off! It's ten past bickies and time for perambulations with Little Dot, my terrier friend. Back soon!

http://www.pilgrimrose.com

http://newevepublishing.com

Comments
4 Comment count
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Welcome to the Red Room!

It's very nice to meet you, Jack. You certainly know your way around a keyboard. Most of my best friends have 4 legs and a tail so you are most welcome addition here. :-) I hope you'll introduce us to your 2-legged Mum soon.

Woofs and arfs,

Darlene <fluent in canine as well as feline>

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Nice to meet your blog

What fun to read what you and Jack have to say! I plan to keep au courant with your postings.

Corinne Copnick

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Welcome Jack! My JRT Molly

Welcome Jack!

My JRT Molly keeps me on my toes as well! she even has her own blog where she gives advice to the silly humans. You might want to start a blog yourself!

Jean

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Thanks, Jean

I think I shall be opening a dogalogue with Molly anytime soon.