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Den's Journal

Stories by a short, fat bastard

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Mad Science
So whatever I had, has gone. Mostly. I still have a cough and my voice is still very croaky and fails entirely on occasion. Those occasions being every time Dad rings to see if I have my voice back.

The dogs give me funny looks when I order them outside. I've found the best way to get them out is to open the door and squeak "Cat!" And then I get trampled in the stampede. Polly charges out like a champion and silently patrols the yard. Snowy fluffs up, and does a stiff-legged bounce around the garden, yodelling and chuffing like an idiot and alerting all the cats in the yard that there is a Big Dog on patrol.

I can't call them in, but if I rustle a cellophane bag to imitate opening a pack of Schmackos dried liver strip treaties, I get their attention. The down side is a pair of dogs drooling enough to make Dr. Pavlov happy.

It's taken a week, but I'm over it.

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Welcome back!

I suspect this is one of the few times I am glad that I wasn't able to pop over to burn some beef on your barbie and pop a few caps with you, cause sharing this kinda bug is definitely not caring...

Nice to get a word on Polly and Snowy too btw. A pic of the pack on Cat Patrol could be fun :)


I'll have to do a video of the smell of a schmackos stick dragging Snowy out of a deep sleep.

More pics and a video of Polly please :)

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