Wednesday, June 11, 2014

A very helpful Best Friend

Hello, it's Chloe here.

Don't tell my Mum, but, as I'm sure you'll agree, this is my story and I'm the one who should share it with you.
You know my Mum, she means well, but she always gets her facts in a tangle.

Let's start at the beginning.

I've a new friend . . . you can see us in this photo.   Mum calls him my Best Friend . . . it's a bit of an exaggeration, but I don't argue . . .  and we play together.

No, that's not quite accurate.
I say that we play together, but what really happens is that I give him his daily exercise.

Well, I make him run very fast around the garden.  My Mum gives him the end of my lead and, once I'm sure he's holding it tightly, I gallop off . . . oh boy, do I make him run!

But we also stop and chat, and, all in all, he's not a bad little boy . . . as little boys go.

The other afternoon, Mum and I were in the garden, feeding the birds by the pond.

We do this every day and, you can take it from me, those birds aren't as dim as they look.   Each time we arrive they're up there in the bushes, waiting for the birdseed.

But we have an agreement, Mum and I . . . if I'm very good when the blackbirds and the robins fly down to feed, then Mum pretends she doesn't notice if I chase those pesky pigeons!

Tell me, have you ever tried pond water?  It tastes of fish, and pollen, and sometimes there's even a tinge of duck . . .  believe me, it's absolutely delicious!

Watching the birds on a sunny afternoon is thirsty business, so, after the blackbirds and robins had gone the other day, I balanced carefully on the edge of the pond and had a good drink.

You should have seen my Mum's reaction . . . she got all excited, tugged hard on the lead, and kept insisting that pond water was bad for me.

This was ridiculous, and I was just about to tell her so when who should appear but my Best Friend.  Before I'd even had a chance to say a polite 'Miaow', my Mum had told him all about me having that drink from the pond.

You'll never guess what happened next.  Off rushed my Best Friend, and he came back carrying a small, red can which he put down by my paws.  If I was thirsty, he said, I could drink from his can.

Well, as you can imagine, I was more than a little surprised.  It was a kind thought, there was no arguing with that.

But, when I sniffed the small, red can I was very disappointed.  It was full to the brim with ordinary, dull tap-water.  Nowhere near as exciting and tasty as the water in the pond.

Nonetheless, as I told myself, my Best Friend had thought he was being kind and he'd gone to a lot of trouble.
So, as a gesture of friendship, I did give the spout a small suck . . . just to make him happy.

Now, if my Mum was telling this story she'd insist that my Best Friend had saved me from an upset tummy.

What rubbish!
But, as you can see, he's a very well-intentioned little boy . . . and, who knows, if I can get him down to the pond when my Mum isn't looking, I might even persuade him to find out just how delicious pond water can be.
Don't tell  my Mum!