It was Oliver’s turn to check FenceBook for pMails. He ambled across the garden and hopped neatly over the gate. The others went back to sleep.
Oliver came back with ‘smug’ written all across his face.
“One up for us,” he curled his lip. “We have a new lady in the district, and I got to her pMail before Buster.”
McAllister stood up and shook his ruff.
“Maybe we should all go sit closer to the gate.”
There was an undignified scramble.
Oliver stayed where he was. What was the hurry. He’d already ‘met’ the lady behind the wheelie bins….
Working Title Blogspot 
Leave a comment