The young fox, who raps
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The Fletchers, whose names are Andy and Julia, live alone. Their daughter grew up and left for Australia.
I think Julia misses her a lot, that’s why they took not a grown-up dog to guard the house, but a puppy. Rufus says, when he was little, Andy used to train him and Julia – take him to bed and read bedtime stories.
Now Rufus is a year and a half. He is big and strong. The dog might even seem scary when he growls and bares teeth, but it’s O.K. with me. Can you keep secrets? I hope so. No, you should better forget it as soon as I tell you! Deal?
Rufus loves BATHING!
He lives a happy life. His masters give him all their love and care. Rufus gets his feeding twice a day, bathing once a month and grooming twice a year.
I think he sometimes gets dirty on purpose to have an extra bath with lavender shampoo and an all-over-the-body massage.
Here is he! What is he doing? Let’s see…
‘Where is it?’ he repeats again and again, while digging a new hole. ‘I’ve hidden it here, I might swear! Perhaps it is under a pear tree… No… Nasty moles! How many of you are here…?’
‘Hey, what are you doing?’ I ask.
‘I’m looking for my bone!’ my friend says.
‘So much fuss over an old rubber bone?’ I ask incredulously.
‘It wasn’t old at all!’ the dog answers. ‘Did you ever see it?’
‘Nope. Do you suspect me?’
‘Of course not!’ Suddenly an idea has flashed in his mind, ‘The moles! They must have stolen my bone! G-R-R-R-R-R! I will bury all your molehills!’
‘Stop it, Rufus! You are all in the mud like a wild boar!
‘Ru-fus! Come here, boy!’ Mrs. Fletcher calls.
‘Aha, it has already started… Firstly, Julia is likely to scold him. I know what I’m talking about. Listen!’
‘My goodness, Rufus! What have you been doing? Digging holes in the garden? Look at yourself! What a shame! ANY RESPECTABLE DOG WOULDN’T LET ITSELF GET SO DIRTY! Don’t even dare to hide in the kennel. Get out of there!’
On saying all that, Julia grabs Rufus by the collar and vigorously drags him to the garden to give her dog a big wash! Who’s lucky? Rufus is!
< image l:href="#"/>Rubby-dubby-duck,
A dog in a tub!
What a funny sight!
Come up closer,
No fright!
See? A scary dog,
That can rip your pants,
Is soaking like a frog,
And has no other plans!
Chapter 6
Ants
It’s one of the splendid summer afternoons when the four of us: Father, Flynn, Fiona and me are walking in the forest. Dad teaches us to read traces. Then we play hide-and-seek, a leapfrog, and run a race, till we are out of breath and fall with fatigue.
When we walk past an anthill, Father stops and says, ‘What amazing creatures are those ants!’
‘Are they?’ Flynn asks. ‘They are so tiny and fussy running here and there, carrying leaves and pine needles. I don’t find them fascinating at all!’
‘They are, trust me!’ Dad objects. ‘Ants are hardworking and strong. They work nonstop all day long. Each ant can lift 20 times its body weight!’
‘Look, Dad, those aren’t working but fighting!’ I notice, coming up closer to the anthill. ‘Why?’
‘And what? We also fight sometimes. All boys are the same,’ my brother says knowingly, punching me slightly with his fist.
‘It’s evident, those ants are fighting to protect their dwelling from intruders. You know, they are great security guards!’ Father adds.
‘Are they?’ I ask.
‘You shouldn’t judge by their size! Despite being tiny, those insects are so brave that often fight to the death!’
‘Wow!’ Flynn says and his eyes get wide in surprise. ‘I start liking them!’
‘So, do I! They are fearless and fair!’
‘Fair? Well, I wouldn’t say so… Sometimes they enslave other ants and make them work for their colony,’ Father says.
‘Aha! So, they aren’t entirely good and flawless, as others might think!’ our sister remarks, trying to spoil our admiration and delight.
I flinch in surprise, when Fiona shows her interest at last. Then I look at Flynn, who frowns and clenches his teeth.
‘Anything interesting about their families and she-ants?’ sister asks, bending over the anthill. All this is boring for me.’
‘Well… Ants have a queen. She can live for many years and have millions of babies!’
‘Oh, that’s amazing!’ Fiona exclaims and jumps with joy.
‘Hush, you silly! See? You are disturbing them!’ I whisper.
‘Do they hear us, Dad?’ brother asks.
‘Ants don't have ears, kid,’ Father remarks. ‘But Fred is right, we have to get out of here. It’s their territory and we are not welcome.
I can’t fall asleep, thinking about ants and their ability to communicate without any ears, and ask Flynn, ‘If ants can’t hear, so they don’t talk?’
‘No idea, bro! What do you think?’
‘I think you should better keep silence, because I want to sleep,’ Fiona breaks in.
‘I suppose, they use the antennae they have got on their heads,’ I whisper.
‘Terrific! They move them to talk!’ my brother says miming the action.
‘But what if they want to chat at night?’
‘They sleep at night, stupid head! And SO DO I!’ the sister snaps.
‘I think, we should ask Dad about this, right?’ I offer.
‘We might go there tomorrow and watch them! Flynn suggests.