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Pala in peer mod mode.
A grey bearded older man sits on the corner of market square on an old blanket and plays a tin whistle for silver pieces. The tunes are not well played with wrong notes slipping in occasionally but it is music, usually soft and sad but occasionally he plays a jig and that is when Dexter comes into his own. Dexter is a dog a hairy shaggy tongue lolling piece of the flotsam and jetson of doggie life Not big, not small, middlety sized, he might be brown or black or grey all of his coat is a mixture of the noble coats of dog, no breed that any of the aficionado’s of canine purity would recognise but nevertheless bright as the silver pieces in Bangers woollen cap.
Dexter’s ears spring up at the sound of the jolly jig and he is up on his back legs dancing around the circumference of the old blanket, paws outstretched tongue lolling and every time a passer by threw a coin a deep woof , woof as if to say thank you. Dexter and his master were favourites of the passing crowds , a fixture and fitment of the market everyone knew his name but that was all Banger and Dexter the dancing dog , what did they need to know other than that?
This very brightening they were in their usual spot and as the weather was inclement the blanket was wrapped around Banger’s head and the dog sat miserably on the cold wet stone. The big stranger struggling with the fur coat walked past and Dexter catching a wild doggie whiff on the air leapt up and sank his teeth into the hem of the coat . The flute player hardly drew breath but blew a sharp note and the dog let go immediately and with ears down and nose to the floor , he obiedently walked backwards to his master .
Banger looked up at the big fella and said
Sorry about that guess old Dexter smelt wolf , ‘ope he ain’t done too much damage to yer coat
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CIR
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