Once upon a time there were three spaniels. Two spaniels were kind of heart and shared willingly with all. Whereas one spaniel had the grievous sin of coveting.
Now it came to pass that one day in August they partook of a walk around Merrington Green. Much fun was had, and along the path a tennis ball was discovered in the long grass. The coveting spaniel, as was her want, claimed it as her own. The generous spaniels accepted this and went along their way. All was well.
It also came to pass that, further along the path there layeth another tennis ball abandoned and alone. The coveting spaniel decided that, as was her want, this also was her tennis ball, and she showeth great determination in endeavoring to get it into her mouth along with the first. All was not well…her mouth was not big enough.
The generous spaniels saw her endeavors, and, as they were kind of heart came to her rescue, with the older of the two kindly picking up the second ball and carrying it for her. This vexed the coveting spaniel exceedingly, upon which she dropped the first tennis ball and proceeded to chase Tilly around a tree.
And there came a small brown spaniel. She saw the first ball abandoned along the path. As she was somewhat kind of nature, but not very, she grabbed the first abandoned ball and shot off like a rat up a drainpipe.
The coveting spaniel, now ball-less, vexed exceedingly sore, and complained loudly in a very annoying high pitched tone.
And the moral of this sad tale…a ball in the mouth is worth two in the grass!
Tag Archives: humour
Keep Calm Tilly…
I have a nasty sneaky feeling that Tilly has been watching too much television lately. I know for a fact that she sat up all night with Richard watching the referendum results come in. Then she was glued to the BBC as Cameron resigned. So, there is going to be another referendum. Oh no, there isn’t. Anyway, Boris is going to take over. No, wait a minute, it is going to be Gove. Hang on…he’s gone! So it is now between May and Leadsom. Wait a second…Leadsom has pulled out. Who’s left? Oh yes, Theresa May. Quick…make her Prime Minister! But what about Corbyn? Perhaps he should take over? No, surely Eagle would be better. Hang on, who’s Owen Smith, maybe he will do? Oh look, Boris is now Foreign Secretary…whatever next!
I really think we need to keep Tilly away from the television!
Sister Lolli…
Sister Lolli came to visit yesterday…
Sister Lolli can jump very high…
Sister Lolli can jump a lot higher that Tilly and Mabel…
Nobody likes a show off!
Twas the Night before Christmas…
Tilly and Mabel and the ‘Sleepover’
Tilly and Mabel and the Exploding Cushion
Tilly and Mabel and the Big Fish
Big Sisters are such a Pain!
Tilly and Mabel have a big sister called Lolli who lives nearby. Big sisters are such a pain! They think it is beneath them to play with their smaller siblings, and so they grab the best toy and run away with it.
When challenged they just run faster.
Even when challenged from both sides big sisters still think they have a right to the best toy.
Luckily we are bringing Tilly and Mabel up to chase their goals and never give up. That is one big sister who has met her match!
Tilly and Mabel and the Lost Boot
Firstly, my apologies to the person who has lost a brown suede boot at Poles Coppice nature reserve on the outskirts of Minsterley. Unfortunately Tilly and Mabel have found it…
Mabel has declared it is her boot, and if Tilly wants a boot she can go and find her own boot!
She has taken quite a shine to the boot…more so actually than the pile of toys we have spent a fortune on at home!
I am reliably informed that it is a size 5 boot with no name tag visible…
Although Mabel was desperate to bring the boot home, and I’m sure the boot has given you many hours of pleasure, I didn’t want the dirty smelly thing in my car…
So the boot is still at Poles Coppice…and Mabel is bootless and bereft.
Tilly and Mabel and the Sad Tale of the Plant Pot
Like most things it started as a bit of fun. I don’t know who actually found the plant pot full of seedlings in the garden but I would guess that Tilly dragged it into the conservatory. Once inside I should image that the pot became the newest ‘must have toy for young sprockers’. Or perhaps they were trying to be helpful and had decided that the seedlings needed repotting…or as the case may be ‘un-potting!’
Tilly and Mabel were about 10 weeks old at the time. And this is where it all started. When there is trouble in the air Tilly hides behind Mabel, and Mabel gives me the big “sorry, we didn’t mean it” eyes. And, as has been the case many times since, the pair of little scoundrels get away with murder!