Fresco Publishing
Spring Garden,
Fairwarp, Uckfield, East Sussex, TN22 3WG. Tel. 01825 713766
PERRY - THE DIARY OF A PERFECT PUPPY.
by
Frances Thornely-Taylor
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PERRY
is a Tibetan Spaniel
puppy who has never been to
Born on a farm in
"
When I woke up
the Man and Lady were in the dining room having their breakfast, and I wandered
over to watch them from the doorway. Then the telephone rang, and the Lady
answered it. "Hello Sue," she said "Perry is fine. He seems to
like living with us, and we are very happy with him." Then she paused,
before adding, "No, we certainly won’t be wanting
our money back. Perry is worth every penny."
I was stunned. I wasn’t on
holiday after all. Sue had sold me, just like a dozen of her hens’ eggs. It was
such a very big shock that I climbed back into my basket to think about it some
more. How could Sue have done this to me when I thought she loved me? It was
the most miserable moment of my life."
THE PERFECT PRESENT FOR ANIMAL LOVERS OF ALL AGES
Ideal as a stocking filler, or treat yourself
to a really enjoyable read.
Reviews: What they say about "Perry"
Readers:
"Wonderful
story"
"I
couldn’t put it down"
"When
I finished I just wanted to read it again"
Reviewers:
"Children
and adults alike will love this book"
"An
ideal present for all ages"
"I
was enchanted"
"This
book sets out not to educate, but to entertain, and in this it wholly
succeeds" (Dog World)
An extract from Perry…
Tuesday 13th January
It was really Dad’s fault it happened. He
complained that I had too many toys, and decided it would be a good idea to put
some of them away in a box, and to let me play with different ones each week.
Then he went away and left me with just Lion and Python, and by today I was
bored with just those two. I went into the sitting room, and there, on the
window-seat, was one of the little plastic flower pots that I am allowed to
play with in the garden. Only this one had a little plant growing in it, which
I decided was a weed, because it was all thin and spiky. Honestly, there was no
way I could have known that it was a cutting from one of Mum’s special plants,
and that she had spent months looking after it and persuading it to grow, so
that she could give it to her friend Sylvia as a present. All I know is that
when I went to pick up the pot this little plant stuck a great long spike into
my nose, so I killed it. When I had chewed off all the spikes I carefully
lifted the pot up and jumped into the yellow armchair. This chair usually has a
dog blanket to cover it, but for some reason it has not been replaced since our
Christmas party. I didn’t realise until I tipped up
the flower pot just how much earth you can get into such a small pot, and when
I saw it all piled up in the middle of the yellow chair I panicked, and tried
to spread it out with my paws so that it looked thinner. Of course, some went
down the sides of the chair, and some more fell over the edge onto the carpet.
That was when I heard Mum approaching.
As quickly as I could I ran over to the french window, and sat down on the
carpet, pretending to be looking out into the garden. When Mum came in she said
“What a good little puppy you are, Perry, sitting all by yourself watching the
grass grow in the garden.” For a moment I thought I had got away with it, but
just as I was about to sneak past Mum and out of the room she turned round and
saw all the mess. She went BALLISTIC. And she didn’t blame Dad at all.
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