Bonny, a dog fighting for equal rights with cats

By Breda Nathan

WUFF wuff… It’s me Bonny, the three-legged dog from number five.

I am waiting for Layla to come home from school to go for my walk.

You wouldn’t believe the stuff us dogs are going through these days.

We are permanently on leashes and a few of us muzzled or worse still coned.

It’s not fair. You hear talk about glass ceilings over women, we have metal cages around us all.

I am sixteen years old, same as Leyla, but in dog years that’s one hundred and twelve.

When I lost my leg, I was only seventy, a young fella.

Several people wanted me executed, but Jamie my legal guardian talked to the vet and they got me back.

It was my own fault losing my leg. I was watching a cat across the road jumping out the bedroom window and wanted to prove I could do it. Alas I was proved wrong.

Still, the memories sometimes make me sad.

We used to have a dog meeting every week in the field around the corner.

We swapped stories and sniffed each other out while some of us had love affairs others had barking mad rows.

That’s all gone now… Most of my old pals are not allowed out without being tied to someone.

There are dog wardens around everywhere and rules and stuff you wouldn’t believe.

The worst story I heard recently, was an old friend who was executed for pooing in that fancy garden in the corner house.

It’s owned by a woman who hates all animals.

She calls pooing defecating, confusing. We had to do something

Word was difficult to get to everyone, with all the restrictions. I realised we had to befriend the local cats.

In fairness, they have stepped up to help us. They have great freedom.

My plan was to fight for equal rights with the cats, but I got nowhere.

They can stay out all night and go on secret trips with different partners and nothing is ever said.

We are jealous, but I have to keep reminding Rex to stay friendly with them. We need them now.

With the help of the cats, we had everyone informed in two days.

The plan was to save all the bags of poo for a week.

When we had enough, we got the cats and Bruce, who is a ‘stray’ dog, to bring it up to the corner house and they spread poo over every flower bed and footpath in the garden.

It worked very well. There is a sale sign up on the house and the cats are keeping us informed. I felt exhausted, but glad our old friend was remembered.

The fact that I helped get the cats to help was approved by all the local dogs. I was a hero.

You can teach an old dog new tricks. And yes, there is life in this old dog yet.