The labrador
OH, hard luck! That was a close one, you almost hit it. Next time, eh? Keep that chin uuuuuuup… oops! Sorry, didn’t mean to yawn. Must be the early start. Nothing to do with the workload. I’m perfectly happy waiting for those big retrieves coming my way, any minute now.
Was that your stomach rumbling or mine? Now, I don’t mean to complain, but are you sure my breakfast was as big as it should be? I only mention it because I feel famished and it wasn’t all that long ago. I’m using a lot more energy these days, remember, what with all this peg work, so I wonder if that should be reflected in my portions. Food for thought.
Now, here’s a corker! Right overhead! You’ve got this! You—Ah. Bad luck. He was a nimble fellow and I may have put you off with all my tail wagging. Don’t lose faith, something will… is it just me or is Bracken over there on peg seven smirking? The nerve! Don’t you take any notice of him, he’s not worth your time. At least you’re not a dark-yellow labrador parading about as a fox red. And I don’t want to spread rumours, but I saw him snaffle a sandwich from a child’s plate on the shoot last Saturday. Poor child. A mature Cheddar with Branston pickle on thick white bloomer, gone in a flash…
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