The Primrose Pursuit Read Free

nevertheless emitted a winsome miaow and made gestures of approval. She looked startled but I persisted, going so far as to make a couple of playful pirouettes and to show interest in her left shoe. You maywonder at such antics, but again I am in debt to the wisdom of Uncle Marmaduke. ‘ Never compromise with humans,’ he had warned, ‘unless it be to your advantage.’ The advice has been invaluable and I have followed it faithfully. Thus in view of Bouncer’s crass goading of the chinchillas I thought it politic to affect an air of silken deference – a temporary device naturally, but necessary to secure our acceptance in the new ménage.
    This ménage I may say is not without its merits, having a large, ill-kempt garden, a warm stone wall and no immediate neighbours. Admittedly the shrubbery does harbour two hedgehogs but so far they have been suitably respectful – though what will happen once the dog gets wind of them I am uncertain. And while our late master’s cabaret of blunders had been a source of painful amusement it is reassuring to think that life in the artist ’s household will be less ruffled than that of the vicarage. It will certainly be more regular for I am glad to note that our new mistress is timely in serving my meals, a courtesy her brother could never quite grasp – but then efficiency never was his strong point. Ah well, nil nisi bonum … And to give him his due, as human beings go, he was a kindly creature. Just absurd.
    Mind you, absurdity is not the prerogative of vicars, for in my experience many are so afflicted: tabby cats, field mice, writers, gravediggers, schoolmasters, pedigree dogs, mongrel dogs, policemen, vets, squirrels, most dog owners, all speckled hens, elderly bicyclists, youthful bicyclists, beards (male or female), bell ringers and bishops … The list is endless but its repetition a useful way of inducing sleep on the rare occasions when such aid is needed. Not that I expect insomnia in our new environment – unless, ofcourse, P.O. were so foolish as to follow F.O.’s example and eliminate one of the locals. (A merry jest and one that I must remember to tell Bouncer!) Yes, I think I can confidently predict that my days here will be passed in leisured sanity, untrammelled by the disruptive practices at Molehill and of our previous associates. There is one problem that remains, of course: the dog. If I can curb him all will be well.

CHAPTER FOUR
    The Dog’s View
    I am getting the hang of this place now and it’s better than I thought, much better in fact. True, we don’t have the vicar’s graveyard to race around in and I do miss him pounding the old ivories; but the swirls of fag smoke are much the same, and his sister, Primrose, has given me a brand-new basket and a really fancy rug to go with it. Mind you, I was a bit miffed about that at first and didn’t go near either of them. I mean it’s quite a shock for a fellow to have his special hairy bedding taken away and to be told to kip in something all fresh and foreign . For a start it smelt different … No, that’s not right, it didn’t smell at all! What do you think of that? Not nice, I can tell you. In fact I took a leaf out of the cat’s book and went into a SULK . You didn’t think Bouncer could do that, did you? Well yes, it did seem a bit strange at first, but I’ve seen Maurice doing it often enough and thought I would have a go too. So I crawled under her kitchen table, made god-awful panting noises and didn’t touch my grub for a WHOLE DAY ! Maurice told me I was in a trormer (or some such word) due to loss of basket. I told him I didn’t care what I was in but that I jolly well wasn’t going to have my kit interfered with!
    Anyway , unlike F.O., P.O. seems to notice things and she soon twigged that I was out of sorts. And do you know what she did? Went to the dustbin, fished out my old rug and put it on top of the new. I thought that was quite sporting and so made it clear that I could