Finding Biff - Fat Dogs and French Estates - page 9

Nonetheless we felt this was a matter worthy of celebration and gave a hearty cheer when
the result was given. Even the dogs (who had been incredibly well behaved) joined in, al-
though Biff did mysteriously end up on the table with a stray chip in his chops.
Our evening had finally come to an end. Slapping one another on the back with great
camaraderie, we promised to return soon. As we were leaving, Di decided she needed a last
'loo stop', so asked the landlord for directions, and sauntered off into the gloom. Judging
by the extremely loud crash and rolling sound, accompanied by an interesting series of
grunts, she'd unfortunately taken a wrong turning. She eventually reappeared looking a
little dishevelled and sporting a slightly torn sleeve.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“Oh yesh, fine , just shlipped down a couple of shteps and shomehow ended up in the
wine schellar.”
Turning to the landlord, who was looking as though he'd swallowed a plum, she ad-
ded, “I'm awfully shorry - I think I might have knocked one of your barrels over.”
“Bloody 'ell lass”, he responded charitably, “I told yer to teka rite, nora bloody left.
Yer just fallen down a flight o' twenty steps. Are thee alrite?”
“Oh yesh ,” she replied airily, “absholootely perfect , but am sho shorry to have upset
your shteps. We'll be off then, good night and many thanksh indeed for a wonderful even-
ing.”
And with that she shuffled off with a dangerous list to the left.
We struck out into the night with the dogs in tow, yodelling Show me the way to go
home , accompanied by a few seemingly effortless side-steps and shimmies. It was now ap-
proaching midnight so there wasn't a soul about, which was probably a good thing. We
were nearly back at Mum's when I turned to check on my still-crooning sister. To my dis-
may I saw that she was gaily trotting along with the lead and collar, but no dog in it.
“What on earth have you done with Biff?” I asked.
Di came to an unsteady halt, peered owlishly at the empty collar and said, “Now that's
odd, I could have schworn he was there a minute ago.”
This was a disaster .
“I don't believe it. You only had to look after Ma's most treasured possession for ten
minutes and now you've lost him! All you had to do was walk him home - on the lead …
attached . Useless, that's what you are, bloody useless! ”
Di completely ignored my eruption and instead looked mildly surprised. She scanned
the density of the night.
“I'm sure he must be here schomewhere,” she muttered.
There was only one solution.
“Sam - fetch Biff!” I shouted.
I could see, from Sam's reaction, that this engendered mixed emotions. Fetch - great
idea, usually lots of fun and always to be relished. Fetch Biff - different matter altogether.