30th Blog Post - The Dog Who Couldn't Bark

Here's a piece I've found in one of my notebooks that I thought will be enjoyable.

"Sprat! Where are you, Sprat?"
     There he goes again.  Every night I hear my neighbour shout for his dog with the daftest name possible - believe me, I didn't name that but, that seems to follow my steps when I walk up and down the street and it doesn't matter if I pass my neighbour's house or not.
     I suppose the reason Sprat follows me is perhaps he feels lonely as he's the only dog, sorry, puppy, on a street filled with cat loving families.  I prefer neither cat or dogs.  Sprat, believe me, looks like it had a wash years ago, not yesterday.
     "Sprat, where are you?"
     I can guess, hiding behind my garden shed, hiding the so-called League of Cats that seem to them up against the poor fella.  I could let him in if he could see the open door, but an open door in my street seems to tell the cats "Why don't you come in and have a saucer of milk?" Thankfully I keep my bottles of milk locked in my fridge with a padlock and key.
     "Sprat! Where are you Sprat?"
     I better go and tell my neighbour to look behind my shed.  How else will he know when the poor pup can't bark?

I hope that you've enjoyed this piece.  I hope to bring another piece soon.