Rainsoaked Paper Chubbspaniels

Yesterday, sitting on my memorial bench ( why wait? ), quietly supping my bowl of Farmhouse Nicotine, I recieved a hail of pale sludgy droplets to the back of the neck, causing me to shudder explosively and tip the breakfast vessel into my lap.

This in turn worried the herd of starlings who’s quarrel I had been supervising, and off they flew to the roof.

” This is where your problem is, Skellington,” said Starling De La Hughes, poking his head over the precipice.

I duly mounted my hypothetical ladder ( inexpensive and easy to carry ) to investigate.

On reaching the roofline I noticed that my gutterring had become thrombosed with a pack of rain-pulped paper Chubbspaniels. The unfortunate creatures had evidently been conducted upwards to this level on a wet thermal.

” Heaven’s choice of crikey!” I ejaculated, ” these paper dogs have all but surrendered shape to water content.”

It was then I noticed that each member of the pack once owned a ruby red eye, scatterred as they were in the white slough like Sultanas in a milk pudding.

Tiny balls of red gelatin were they, which, I was delighted to discover, melted in the mouth with a delicious coppery tang.

I picked out as many eyeballs from the Chubbspaniel porridge as I could find, wolfing them down hungrily in lieu of my spilled breakfast.

All but one, that is, for the final eyeball belonged to a paper dog who had largely survived the ravages of moisture, and had retained a significant portion of it’s formal integrity.

I took the fellow indoors to dry by the fire, thinking what a fine pet it would make ( providing I kept my demands on it’s obedience to a minimum.)

Sadly, as the moisture departed from my new best friend, he began to curl. His little body seemed to scroll tighter with each passing hour until, at midnight, it resembled a long narrow cone.

This gave me a splendid idea.

Placing the tapered end between my lips I blew vigorously into what was, in effect, a paper trumpet. The sound produced had a sad, keening quality, not unlike that of a pharoanic wonderhorn.

Imagine my surprise when, shortly after, while taking out the nightsoil, I found the house surrounded by paper dogs of all breeds and dispositions, forming a cordon of multitudes around my home.

They had been summoned down from the hills by my horn blast!

” I hope it doesn’t rain” I thought to myself.