Читать книгу The Story My Doggie Told to Me онлайн

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We were born in the Spring and lived in the yard until we were four months old. Then my brother, whose name was Franz, and one of my sisters, whose name was Franzchen, left us. They went away off to live in the city and Freya and I were quite lonely at first, and our mother felt very badly about it. But she told us that they had gone to live with some nice, kind people and would be very happy, and after that we didn’t feel so badly about it.

After Franz and Franzchen left us we were no longer kept in the Kennel yard, but were allowed to go anywhere we pleased—except the house. We weren’t allowed in the house, but sometimes we got in. When we did we scampered straight for the kitchen. The first time we did it Cook had a tin dish filled with cake-batter in her hand and when we ran at her and barked and jumped up on her she was so surprised and scared that she cried “Saints presarve us!” and dropped the dish. Most of the batter went on Freya and she ran out as quick as she could go, much more frightened than Cook, and I after her. We had a fine time licking the batter off. It was nice and sweet and sticky and lasted all day. Father was quite angry with us, but Mother said “Puppies will be puppies.”