Postcard from Ellie
I’m sorry it has taken so long for me to write this, but I’ve been very busy training, and getting my nails and hair done. The contest season will be coming up in a few months. I will be ready.
In the mean time:
The Bitch from Borlänge – Chapter 9
Hmmm, where was I? Oh yes, Pildammsparken—Malmö. I often go to parks, they tend to be quiet—a good place to think. It was snowing and there was a stillness in the air. I pondered what would Smoothy’s next move be? Another heist?—or would he lay low? He might be short of cash. We closed his account in Kathmandu….
I heard something, footsteps in the snow, some fifty meters upwind. Time to sniff, inhale the cold dry air of winter through my ultra sensitive nose. I smelled a Kat! And more than that—impossible it seemed. A rat!
I can smell a rat at 200 yards. It’s in my blood, or theirs or, something—but no time to think. I bounded though the snow in hot pursuit and saw him. Had to be the Smooth. No other coats like that. The colors changed from black to white than gray, a snow lit shadow. Fifty shades of gray, he likes to call it. Now I’ve got him! There’s no way he can outrun me, but—the rat! He was a big one, probably Norwegian. “Focus,”I told myself. “The KAT. You want the Kat.”
But instinct rules—generations of breeding. My grandma was one of the most famous ratters in Ireland, Bridget The Slayer, they called her. It’s my nature. Scorpions sting, birds fly, Terriers kill rats. I couldn’t help myself. That rat was sushi!
I saw The Smooth jump over a mountain of white crated by a snowplough and disappear. “Catch your act later,” I told myself as the rat jinked to the right, then left, then dove into a snow bank and borrowed like a rotorooter. A wake of snow glistened behind me as I frantically dug to keep up, but I had a lot more snow to move, and in the end—I hate to say it, but the rodent got away, and Smoothy too. An odd couple to say the least.
Where was I now? I looked around and saw the Malmö Konsthall a couple blocks away. There were some advertisements in a window. “Kat Show”. Might be something to look into, but not easy for a hound.
I’m sorry it has taken so long for me to write this, but I’ve been very busy training, and getting my nails and hair done. The contest season will be coming up in a few months. I will be ready.
In the mean time:
The Bitch from Borlänge – Chapter 9
Hmmm, where was I? Oh yes, Pildammsparken—Malmö. I often go to parks, they tend to be quiet—a good place to think. It was snowing and there was a stillness in the air. I pondered what would Smoothy’s next move be? Another heist?—or would he lay low? He might be short of cash. We closed his account in Kathmandu….
I heard something, footsteps in the snow, some fifty meters upwind. Time to sniff, inhale the cold dry air of winter through my ultra sensitive nose. I smelled a Kat! And more than that—impossible it seemed. A rat!
I can smell a rat at 200 yards. It’s in my blood, or theirs or, something—but no time to think. I bounded though the snow in hot pursuit and saw him. Had to be the Smooth. No other coats like that. The colors changed from black to white than gray, a snow lit shadow. Fifty shades of gray, he likes to call it. Now I’ve got him! There’s no way he can outrun me, but—the rat! He was a big one, probably Norwegian. “Focus,”I told myself. “The KAT. You want the Kat.”
But instinct rules—generations of breeding. My grandma was one of the most famous ratters in Ireland, Bridget The Slayer, they called her. It’s my nature. Scorpions sting, birds fly, Terriers kill rats. I couldn’t help myself. That rat was sushi!
I saw The Smooth jump over a mountain of white crated by a snowplough and disappear. “Catch your act later,” I told myself as the rat jinked to the right, then left, then dove into a snow bank and borrowed like a rotorooter. A wake of snow glistened behind me as I frantically dug to keep up, but I had a lot more snow to move, and in the end—I hate to say it, but the rodent got away, and Smoothy too. An odd couple to say the least.
Where was I now? I looked around and saw the Malmö Konsthall a couple blocks away. There were some advertisements in a window. “Kat Show”. Might be something to look into, but not easy for a hound.
No comments:
Post a Comment