The Dog

The dog walks along the road to the park and jumps and bounds and leaps and plays, because life is good and he is a dog.

The dog sniffs the floor because he smells a smell that makes him start, and he sniffs his nose and wags his tail and shakes his bum, because smells are interesting and he is a dog.

The dog goes in someone else’s garden because they have left the gate open and he wants to go in. He goes in and runs around and digs in the garden a bit, a women opens the door and shouts at him, and he barks and smiles and wags his tail to say “piss off,” I’m a dog, I can do what I like.

The dog crosses the road and goes into a school when it’s lunchtime. The children all shouts and shriek and laugh, the teacher tries to catch him and he barks and jumps and goes mad with happiness at being chased, because he knows he can’t be caught because dogs can’t be caught.

The dog trots back up the road, through the park and past some houses back to his home. He goes in the kitchen and barks a bit. Then he eats his dinner and laps his water, and goes to stare at his people eat their food. He eats some of his people’s food, watches some telly, stretches and lies down in his bed and goes to sleep. Because he is a dog and life is good.