he headed for the backyard again. ‘I guess some things do turn out all right after all. That Breath-Away stuff turned out to be a miracle for me. And it certainly is taking Willy’s breath away right now!
SELBY ON THE LOO(SE)
Selby was a very lucky dog. Well at least he thought he was lucky. That is, he would have been lucky if it hadn’t been for a sudden streak of very bad luck just when everything was going so well.
It all happened the day that Dr and Mrs Trifle were going to dinner at Mascara Mansion. The mansion was the huge old house that the fortune-teller, and now cosmetics millionaire, Madame Mascara, had just bought.
‘She’s so proud of that house,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘She’s invited the most important people in Bogusville to dinner — and us, too.’
‘What do you mean, and us, too? We’reimportant, aren’t we? Why, you’re the mayor of Bogusville,’ Dr Trifle said.
‘I guess I just don’t think of us as being important,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘We’re just little old Trifle us. We certainly don’t live in a forty-two room mansion.’
‘Especially not one that’s haunted,’ Dr Trifle said with a wink.
‘I forgot,’ Mrs Trifle laughed. ‘She really believes there are gremlins living there, doesn’t she?’
‘I’m afraid that Madame M believes in all those supernatural things: ghosts, goblins, gremlins, ghouls — and that’s just the ones starting with G. That’s why she bought the house.’
‘You forgot genies and gnomes.’
‘Are you sure they start with G?’ asked Dr Trifle who wasn’t a great speller.
‘Pretty sure. Anyway, gnomes or no gnomes, we’re invited to dinner and Phil Philpot who runs The Spicy Onion Restaurant is going to do the cooking. It should be a lovely evening.’
‘Oh, I’d love to live in a huge mansion,’ Selby thought as he listened to the Trifles’ conversation.‘I’d have hundreds of servants and TVs in every room and my own private movie theatre. Oh, how I’d love to go to Mascara Mansion tonight and have some of Phil Philpot’s wonderful peanut prawns! Just my luck: the Trifles will leave me here with a bowl of those awful Dry-Mouth Dog Biscuits. Oh well, at least I’ll have a chance to play some games on the computer.’
‘I thought maybe we’d take Selby along with us tonight,’ Mrs Trifle said.
Selby’s ears shot up like rockets. ‘Are you sure that Madame M won’t mind?’ Dr Trifle asked.
‘No, no. She loves Selby ever since she told his fortune ages ago, remember? She specifically said we could bring him along.’
‘I can’t believe it!’ Selby thought. ‘They’re actually going to take me with them! I can’t wait! Oh, lucky me! Peanut prawns, here I come!’
Selby’s luck began to change the moment he entered the gates of Mascara Mansion.
‘Oh, you’ve brought the little poochy-poo,’ Madame Mascara cooed. ‘Isn’t he a darling little doggy-woggy?’
‘Forget the poochy-poo and the darling doggy-woggies,’ Selby thought as he trotted into the mansion after the Trifles. ‘Take me to the tucker; I’m one hungry hound.’
All the guests were seated in their finest clothes around the great, long dinner table.
Everywhere there was the sound of sizzling food and the heavenly smell of peanut prawns.
‘I’ve made a special dish for Selby,’ Madame Mascara said, putting a bowl of Dry-Mouth Dog Biscuits on the floor. ‘Otherwise he’d have to eat people-food and I know he’d hate that!’
‘Oh, woe. I should have known it was too good to be true,’ Selby thought as he crawled under the table and chewed a dog biscuit. ‘I wish they’d left me at home.’
Throughout the meal everyone listened politely as Madame Mascara talked about all the ghosts and gremlins she’d heard in the house.
‘Oh, bother,’ Selby thought. ‘I’ve got to go to the loo. How will I ever get out of this place?’
Selby went down the hallway and up to the huge oak front door where he barked a couple of
SELBY ON THE LOO(SE)
Selby was a very lucky dog. Well at least he thought he was lucky. That is, he would have been lucky if it hadn’t been for a sudden streak of very bad luck just when everything was going so well.
It all happened the day that Dr and Mrs Trifle were going to dinner at Mascara Mansion. The mansion was the huge old house that the fortune-teller, and now cosmetics millionaire, Madame Mascara, had just bought.
‘She’s so proud of that house,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘She’s invited the most important people in Bogusville to dinner — and us, too.’
‘What do you mean, and us, too? We’reimportant, aren’t we? Why, you’re the mayor of Bogusville,’ Dr Trifle said.
‘I guess I just don’t think of us as being important,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘We’re just little old Trifle us. We certainly don’t live in a forty-two room mansion.’
‘Especially not one that’s haunted,’ Dr Trifle said with a wink.
‘I forgot,’ Mrs Trifle laughed. ‘She really believes there are gremlins living there, doesn’t she?’
‘I’m afraid that Madame M believes in all those supernatural things: ghosts, goblins, gremlins, ghouls — and that’s just the ones starting with G. That’s why she bought the house.’
‘You forgot genies and gnomes.’
‘Are you sure they start with G?’ asked Dr Trifle who wasn’t a great speller.
‘Pretty sure. Anyway, gnomes or no gnomes, we’re invited to dinner and Phil Philpot who runs The Spicy Onion Restaurant is going to do the cooking. It should be a lovely evening.’
‘Oh, I’d love to live in a huge mansion,’ Selby thought as he listened to the Trifles’ conversation.‘I’d have hundreds of servants and TVs in every room and my own private movie theatre. Oh, how I’d love to go to Mascara Mansion tonight and have some of Phil Philpot’s wonderful peanut prawns! Just my luck: the Trifles will leave me here with a bowl of those awful Dry-Mouth Dog Biscuits. Oh well, at least I’ll have a chance to play some games on the computer.’
‘I thought maybe we’d take Selby along with us tonight,’ Mrs Trifle said.
Selby’s ears shot up like rockets. ‘Are you sure that Madame M won’t mind?’ Dr Trifle asked.
‘No, no. She loves Selby ever since she told his fortune ages ago, remember? She specifically said we could bring him along.’
‘I can’t believe it!’ Selby thought. ‘They’re actually going to take me with them! I can’t wait! Oh, lucky me! Peanut prawns, here I come!’
Selby’s luck began to change the moment he entered the gates of Mascara Mansion.
‘Oh, you’ve brought the little poochy-poo,’ Madame Mascara cooed. ‘Isn’t he a darling little doggy-woggy?’
‘Forget the poochy-poo and the darling doggy-woggies,’ Selby thought as he trotted into the mansion after the Trifles. ‘Take me to the tucker; I’m one hungry hound.’
All the guests were seated in their finest clothes around the great, long dinner table.
Everywhere there was the sound of sizzling food and the heavenly smell of peanut prawns.
‘I’ve made a special dish for Selby,’ Madame Mascara said, putting a bowl of Dry-Mouth Dog Biscuits on the floor. ‘Otherwise he’d have to eat people-food and I know he’d hate that!’
‘Oh, woe. I should have known it was too good to be true,’ Selby thought as he crawled under the table and chewed a dog biscuit. ‘I wish they’d left me at home.’
Throughout the meal everyone listened politely as Madame Mascara talked about all the ghosts and gremlins she’d heard in the house.
‘Oh, bother,’ Selby thought. ‘I’ve got to go to the loo. How will I ever get out of this place?’
Selby went down the hallway and up to the huge oak front door where he barked a couple of
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