Hello, I am at KSP again! I love this place! I could be having a lovely walk but Mummy says I have to write a novel or at least a short story collection. A-cos KSP is a writers’ centre. I tried to tell her that was just silly. KSP is clearly a park; see outside the windows park stuff. But she offered to type, so write I must.
As a writing prompt she asked me what I wanted to write about. Obviously I told her that there was a park, right outside the windows, that was all I could think about.
She asked me to describe what it was I liked about the garden. Silly Mummy calls that great big glorious park a garden, but lets not argue, she’s holding my leash. Now this may seem easy but I know this is a trap. Though Mummy is betterer than most, she is still a female. And as all us blokes know, most everything they say is a trap. I also know it’s a trap because of hay fever.
My mummy is at war with lotsa flowers. She can’t garden properly so they hates her and are trying to kill her with the terrible poison called pollen. But before she dies she gets all headachy and tired and sneezy and (don’t tell her I told you) really, really grumpy. Even at me; her beloved spaniel.
So I can’t mention all the delicious looking flowers in pretty colours beckoning me to come and sample them, because we don’t love flowers, they are the enemy. So I am not going to mention how pretty and sweet they look and how I want to eat them and roll in them and be their best friend. Cos Mummy’s at war and that tends to make her shouty, or cry, which is worse.
Mummy is light sensitive and hates heat. So ‘what a sunshiney fine day it is out there’ would not be a wise thing to say, if fact I’ve seen Daddy trying to stop people saying it before they got killed. I can’t talk about the bright light and colours, or even the warmth on my back after all these months of cold. Mummy says I don’’t know what cold is. Is it rational to mope around the house saying, ‘If there is a God bring on the next Ice Age!’?
There are bugs, Mummy. Bugs, you like bugs. No, not flies, we both hate flies. Not mosquitoes, I know that, that rampaging around the house screaming ‘I am going to kill all the mosquitoes’ feels like only yesterday. Yes, yes it was last night, what do you mean? Oh, normal humans don’t say something feels like it was yesterday when it was yesterday. Well that’s just another example of how human communication is wrong, now isn’t it. Why would long ago feel like yesterday? Are humans really that absent minded? That’s really sad, and another thing to put on my Why I Want To Continue To Be A Spaniel list.
Where was I? To the human that said KSP but probably not in the park part; correct. To those of you that tried to remind me what I had been writing earlier; I think you can see where you went wrong.
Bugs, Mummy you love bugs, butterflies, bees, beetles and braying bantises. Sorry I was on a roll and I refuse to be dictated to by mere spelling. Fine for you pedantic Spelling Bee enthusiasts, praying mantises. Oh yeah spiders, I forgot about spiders. Come on Mummy, I can see butterflies from here, and a ladybug; I’ll let you eat it. Not even tasty ladybug, but I’ve heard you say you love them. What? I’m not allowed to eat bugs either!
I am very sorry this story must come to such an abrupt end. But when the master story teller is refusing to speak to the typist, well, things get difficult.
So in the last few words that woman will hear from me in AGES! But this is not for you, it is only for nice reading-me people:
Good morning and all the best,
Charles, King and Cavalier, Spaniel.
P.S. How do you proof read when you are too short to see the computer but still don’t want to speak to the typist, because she is being completely unreasonable about insect consumption?
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