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  Title Page

  ‘PIDDY-PIDDOO’

  A Fiction Tale For Children

  BY

  PAUL KELLY

  Publisher Information

  Piddy Piddoo

  Published in 2012 by Andrews UK Limited

  www.andrewsuk.com

  This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior written consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published, and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  The characters and situations in this book are entirely imaginary and bear no relation to any real person or actual happening.

  Copyright © Paul Kelly 2012

  The right of Paul Kelly to be identified as author of this book has been asserted in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyrights Designs and Patents Act 1988

  Chapter One

  I know my name sounds funny... Well, most people think that when they hear it, but that’s the one I’ve been given and somehow, ever since I’ve had it, I feel that it suits me and I like it now myself... kinda distinctive, don’t you agree?

  I don’t know where my mistress Charlotte got it from, but when she brought me to her house that lovely hot day in July last year, (I was only eighteen months then,) and let me run wild around her gorgeous garden, where I must admit I tore up a few of her best plants, she started to call me Piddy Piddoo, whenever she would call out to me when my dinner was ready... or anything else to eat, for that matter as I often got little snacks in between... I would hear her call and I thought it was a great game. She used to have an old cat that she called Kitt’n-Katt’n, Putt’n-Patt’n, because I don’t think she could decide whether this animal was a pussy cat or a kitten, but I don’t really care about that, since the old moggy never came near me and used to hiss her stupid way around the garden whenever I was near. She gave up eventually and went into the neighbour’s shrubbery for a bit of piece since she used to sleep a lot during the day. Fat old floppy things she was. Anyway, less about her, that old tabby with the shifty eyes and more about me... handsome boy... many would say.

  I’m a funny doggie really, I suppose... because I’ve lived with humans for as long as I can remember and I can’t imagine myself being a dog at all, not even a Boxer dog and far less still, a white Boxer dog, for I am told they are very rare. You get brown ones and red ones, brindle ones and all sorts-of-in-between ones, but not many white ones, so naturally, I’m very proud of myself. Well now... Wouldn’t you be? My hair is very short and my body is all white, except for my muzzle and my snout. They are black and my snout is shiny, like a nice piece of leather, really. My eyes are dark and I smile a lot, but when I’m angry or get excited about anything, the rims get as red as beetroot and that’s a little off-putting to the birds. if you know what I mean. Not the feathered variety... the flying type of birds... I mean, the other ones... and that brings me to what I wanted to tell you in the first place. I met a real little cutie the other day and boy... Did she set my beetroot rims ablaze? Well, I ask you... . She was a real corker and I couldn’t help myself from shouting ‘Phew’... . I always shout ‘Phew’ when I’m excited... don’t you?

  Well anyway, I met her when I was out having my usual scud around the garden. I usually have a little scud two or three times a day. Helps to keep the figure in trim, you know. Well, anyway, when I stopped for a breather, I could hear this strange clicking noise coming from the other side of the garden fence. Now I knew there was a hole in that old fence somewhere, but I just couldn’t find it. Well, you know what it’s like... You never can find anything you’re looking for and if you don’t want it, it’s staring you right in the eye. Well, I buzzed around for a bit, sniffing and snorting like I always do... and I do it very well, I might add. I’m quite good at that... and then I found it. It was a hole... just big enough for me to get my head through... with a push, but I was determined to see what this thing was that was making all this clicking noise. I’m not nosy, you understand. Not one little bit, but it’s a natural curiosity with us Boxers. Well, after plopping each ear, carefully through the hole and at a great deal of inconvenience and discomfort, I can tell you, I heard this giggling sound coming from a small bush on the other side of the fence... Then, all of a sudden, I saw it. A great powder-puff head with large blue eyes stared at me. I swallowed hard... really hard, I can tell you, as it was all white and bouncy with sweet little pink rosebud lips. Well, I went my deepest shade of beetroot... around the old peepers, of course... and Cor!... Didn’t she pong beautifully... I just closed my eyes and indulged in a good long sniff... My black leather ‘ooter was having a field day...

  “Dear me,” she said as she glared at me with her gorgeous eyes, “I thought you were Chinese. Your eyes look like Chinese.”

  I got quite annoyed for a few seconds

  “So would yours be,” I said, “If you had just squeezed your head through this hole.”

  She smiled... Well, it was a sort of a smirk, really, more than a smile, I’d say.

  “Well, aren’t you a silly then, to try to get your big head through a hole like that,” she said, “Serves you jolly well right... “

  “It’s not a small hole,” I protested, “It must be easily five inches.”

  She grinned again and I snorted, making bubbles at the side of my mouth.

  “That’s what I mean... BIG ‘EAD,” she smirked and I gave her one of my ‘old-fashioned’ looks (the ones that make Charlotte laugh... but they didn’t have any effect on this beauty... )

  “Made me quite dizzy, and my ears are all sore now,” I said, hoping for a bit of sympathy, “Anyway, what’s all that clicking noise I could hear?” I asked and at that moment, I could hear a plopping sound and my eyes went back to their normal shape.

  I looked at this creature with the fine, flouncy hair and she was even whiter than me. Her body was all soft and fluffy-like, with a magnificent, long bushy tail and I couldn’t keep my eyes off it as it swayed to and fro when she purred, mesmerising me with every swaying move.

  “Oh! That’s just my knitting,” she said calmly and dropped her eyelids. “I’m not English, you understand... I’m foreign. I’m from Persia.”

  I stared at her in amazement and I could feel my own eyes going big and round as I looked.

  “You look like a cat, to me . .” I said slowly, wondering if I should apologise for saying that, but she clicked away on her shiny, scarlet knitting needles and ignored me with a deep sigh.

  “Well, of course I’m a cat, stupid,” she said and I came a little closer to have a better look and a good old sniff.

  “Don’t come too near,” she shouted snootily, “There’s no telling where You’ve been.”

  “I’ve never seen a cat like you before. All the cats around here are scruffy old moggies with stripes and scraggy coats and that sort of thing... ”

  “Do you mind?” she retorted, flicking her eyelashes at me and her tail quivered.

  “Well, I’ve never been abroad to Persia, so how would I ever guess what you might look like,” I said, but I didn’t tell her that I thought she was beautiful... The most beautiful cat I had ever seen... and I’ve seen a few in my day... . I can tell you, for nothing.

  “You’re not so hot lookin’ yourself, Buster... with those awful old red eyes. They look like snazzy specs to me. However did you come by them?” she complained and I could feel the full two inches of my tail shrinking with shame. Made me ever so glad she could only see my head. It really did...

  “That’s not glasses,” I barked, “That�
��s my natural eyes, Madam.”

  She came a little closer to have a better look and I could see her lips quivering, but she did have a lovely smell. I closed my eyes for a moment to savour the fragrance.

  “No need to close them,” she meowed, “I can see them quite well enough when they’re open. Awful old bloodshot things, they are. I don’t think I like them at all. Well, I’m sure I don’t and if I had eyes like yours, I’d kill myself, so there...”

  I didn’t want to tell her that my eyes were particularly red because I was excited looking at her, but on the other hand, I didn’t want any of her old say either, did I?” There’s no pleasing some females, I thought.

  “My eyes are red from straining through that hole,” I said in my own defence and waited for the caustic remark that I was sure would follow. It did...

  “Stupid... doin’ a silly thing like that, I say,” she said as she seemed to me to be sulking.

  “Well, I wanted to know what the clicking noise was, didn’t I?” I said and she looked at me closely again before closing her beautiful peepers... then I saw her lips moving, but she didn’t seem to be talking...

  “What?” I asked, as I hadn’t heard her properly, but she just smiled complacently, adding that I might even be deaf as well as stupid.

  “And now you know... It’s my needles, don’t you? So you can push off and get yourself back through that ridiculous hole again.”

  I know I shouldn’t have done, but I simply couldn’t help giggling at her anger and she did look cute when she was wild.

  “Never heard of a cat that knitted before,” I said, trying to waste time and hoping that she would talk to me a little more, as I had no intention of pulling my ears through that hole again. Once was enough, so instead, I licked my nose as she glared at me angrily, with piercing eyes.

  “Well, you have now, so scram, Buster,” she snapped and turned her back on me only to wave her fluffy tail in my face.

  “Oh! Let’s have a look then?” I asked, very butch-like.

  “Have a look at what?” she screeched like a Banshee.

  “Your knitting, “ I said hopefully, “What else?”

  She moved her fluffy shoulders as if to sulk.

  “Alright then, but you mustn’t laugh. I’m knitting for a friend and he’s a very small person.”

  She held the multicolored article out for me to see and it was about three inches long and one inch wide. One end had tassels hanging from it. I had a little thought before I made any further comment... only for a few minutes, you understand. Just a very little thought!

  “It’s a scarf, isn’t it?” I said and lowered my head in case she lashed out at me, but instead, she smiled and meowed as she purred beautifully. “It’s a nice scarf, isn’t it?” I added, feeling more confident and hoping she would smile again. “Your friend is a very lucky person. Do you knit scarves for all your friends?” I asked, but she turned her back on me again and flicked her long tail across my face, making me sneeze... twice.

  “Beg your parding,” I said, being most polite.

  “Only if they are my special friends,” she purred, ignoring my good manners.

  “Would you... Would you knit... “

  Before I could say another word, she snarled and her lips curled up over her teeth as a hissing sound came from her lovely lips. I blinked.

  “You must be joking, Buster... You’re not my friend and you can just push off... Get me?”

  She swished her tail again and I could feel another sneeze coming on. I tried to control it, but I couldn’t and she took the full force of my nasal explosion right between her magnificent eyes. Well, I couldn’t get my paws through the hole to get to my handkerchief and besides, I only carry one with me on a Sunday. She fumbled around her rear parts and produced a wiper of her own and commenced to dry her face.

  “And what do you say to that?” she asked curtly, tightening her little ruby lips, with her red tongue peeping through, just a fraction.

  “Say to what?” I asked.

  “You sneezed all over me, that’s what... You big oaf.”

  With that, my tail began to stand up.

  “Begging your parding... begging your beautiful parding,” I said quickly, hoping to save the situation with my exemplary good manners again, but she only glared at my head and laughed, showing her tiny white fangs at either side of her pretty mouth.

  “How much more of you is there at the other end of that ugly head?” she enquired and my tail stretched to two-an-a-half inches, which it always does when I’m angry.

  “If I can get back to my own garding,” I said, trying to be ever so correct and speak English as perfectly as I knew how, “Maybe you could come through and see for yourself.”

  She raised her eyebrows and her whiskers did a little dance. “I’m pretty strong, you know and I might break this fence down if I push any harder,” I said, trying to impress, but she just dithered and touched her head lightly with her front paw.

  “Big deal,” she said, fluttering her long eyelashes. “You’re not very clever, are you? Why I could get my whole body, head and all, through that hole. You see, I’m lithe and I take plenty of exercise. I wouldn’t like to be as fat as you... Not never, not no how.”

  I tried to pull my head back through the hole again, but my ears got stuck.

  “Well? What’s stopping you... I’m waiting to get through there stupid, but I can’t do that until you move first, can I?” she snarled and I wanted to do so much to prove to her that I really was a strong and handsome bloke...

  My face began to wrinkle and my eyes started to water, so I closed them as I didn’t want her to think I was crying... then I plopped and pinged each ear separately from the hole.

  “This’ll give me a headache, that’s for sure,” I snorted, but she didn’t want to know about any inconvenience I might have to suffer.

  “Serves you right for being so nosy then... doesn’t it?” was all she could say and she gloated as I fell back on my backside and my stump folded up for a second before it popped back again.

  “Ouch! There... That’s it. I’m through now. Do you need a hand?” I asked as I crossed my legs and held my poor head in my cupped paws.

  “Just take my knitting through and then my handbag,” she demanded.

  “Handbag?... Handbag?”... I giggled, “I never knew cats had handbags.”

  She stuck her head through the hole without the slightest effort and grinned at me.

  “Every gentleman knows that every lady carries a handbag, you silly boy. How else could she carry her cosmetics and things?”

  Well, I just held my breath and waited.

  “O.K. Let’s have it then,” I said in total disbelief but a handbag did appear through the hole and I felt a proper Nanna carrying it over my shoulder, I can tell you, as a white furry leg appeared on my side of the fence.

  “Oh! You are big,” she said as she came through, curling her tail after her with ease. “Big paws as well,” she remarked. “Pity about the apology at the back though...”

  “What apology,” I demanded to know, looking around to see what she was talking about.

  “I suppose you could call it a tail... It’s wagging. I can see that,” she sighed and by this time I was getting a bit fed up and I handed her ‘cosmetic holder’ back to her, hoping that no-one had seen me with the silly thing around my noble neck.

  “What you got in that bag, then?” I asked her as she licked her fur and stuck her leg in the air like a cello player.

  “None of your business,” she snapped, “A gentleman should never ask a lady what she carries in her handbag... NEVER,” she emphasized with eyes as large as dinner plates.

  Phew! I just couldn’t resist my next remark.

  “Well, ladies don’t usually stick their legs in the air in fr
ont of gentlemen, do they?” I asked and all the while my jowls were itching to have a good old laugh... They were... Honest they were.”

  She removed her leg gracefully and tucked it under her tail.

  “That better then?” she asked and her whiskers bristled.

  I looked away, feeling a little ashamed of having said what I did and she did look positively radiant and I loved the pong.

  “Like my warfume?” she enquired when she saw me sniffing wildly with my snout in the air.

  “Yes, I sure do... like... your warfume.” I said, hoping she might come a little closer so that I could have a good whiff of the stuff, but she didn’t...

  “That’s alright then, cos I think you could do with something like it yourself,” she wrinkled her nose, “Do you suffer from B.O. very much?” she added and studied her claws in self-admiration.

  Now that remark did make me angry and I went across to the rose garden and kicked the soil up into the air with my hind legs. I wanted to cock my leg too, but she wouldn’t take her gorgeous eyes off me, so I held on and decided to try another tactic.

  “How’s about you an’ me goin’ for a little stroll then, Babe?” I asked, as I watched her face to see what reaction I would get for being so brave but she sniggered and put her head down to commence her knitting again. Well, I thought that was bad manners and I’m sure most dogs would agree with me. Well, pedigree dogs like me would but I can’t talk for mongrels...

  “Not until I know you better,” she muttered into her wool, to my great disgust.

  “How well do you know this other friend of yours? You know... that little person you told me about?”

  “D’ya mean Bertie? she asked, “The one I’m knitting this scarf for?”

  “Well, yea, if that’s what he calls himself. Mind you, I think that’s a stupid name for anyone. What is he... a Liquorice Allsort, or something?”

  I giggled and held my paw to my mouth, but I could see that she was not amused as her eyes went all tight, so I just licked my paw for a few minutes and pretended I didn’t see how angry she was.