Читать книгу The Story My Doggie Told to Me онлайн

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I didn’t know what “de-struct-ive” meant, but I didn’t like the sound of it.

“Oh, I hope not,” said the Mistress, looking at me very hard. I turned my head away and made believe I didn’t hear. Freya wagged her tail and trotted off to the flower bed. I watched her and growled.

“Well, perhaps we’ll find it,” said the Mistress. “You’d better look around, William.”

“Yes, mum,” said William. Then he cried “Hi, there! Stop that!” and ran over to the flower bed where Freya was digging. By the time he got to her she had the collar in her mouth and was holding it out to him, wagging her tail.

“Here it is, mum,” called William. “And all chewed up, mum, just like I said, mum!”

I didn’t wait to hear any more, but very quietly slipped away from them and ran for the stable. But William found me. He dragged me out by the scruff of my neck from behind a pile of flower-pots and showed me the collar. Then he—but I don’t like to think of what he did. It was very painful. After he had gone I cried myself to sleep behind the flower-pots and slept quite a while. And when I woke up again I didn’t come out until I was sure that William had gone to his dinner. I was very hungry, too, but I was afraid to go near the house. So I went off to the meadow and dug up a bone I had buried a long while before. I heard them calling me to come to dinner, but I didn’t go. I hoped they would be sorry they had treated me as they had. After a while, though, they stopped calling me. So I chewed on my bone, which was very good but a little too dry. Still, when you’re very hungry most any bone tastes good. After that I felt much better and set off to find Freya. I met my father in the stable yard and asked him where she was, and he said she was in the kitchen.

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