kato age two

Kato and the Sandwich of Life

The owners of the proper old fashioned hardware/glass shop opposite park their camper van in our drive. In exchange we are showered with hardware gifts. The Shop is an Aladdins cave of mysterious things and they seem to sell everything from one curtain ring upwards.

Kato has never been in the shop. If I have reason to go in, I leave her at home or I stand at the doorway and shout in.

I mis-clicked on my grocery shopping so had an extra cucumber. Thought I would drop it over to Mrs Dave-the-Shop – the shop was unusually empty. I stood in the doorway making the tinkly bell tinkle

“Why you stood there so, half in, half out” said Mrs Dave-the-Shop

“Dog” I said “I’ve brought you a cucumber”

“Come in, dog don’t eat ironmongery”

Kato nearly exploded with joy and was in before I could say Bull in a China Shop. Ten long years she has wondered what lay behind the door. Kato inspected all of the things – her nose scanning across shelves full of endless stuff – Jeys fluid, washing up bowls, paint scrapers and drain rods. No-More Nails, Actual Nails and Literal Nails. Kato knocked over the coal scuttles and cleared the the glue display with a sweep of her tail. Kato paused at hamster food as potential food item that may need returning to. But then her eyes fell on something. What also lay behind the door was a woman holding a sandwich.

“Dog him like heg?” enquired Mrs D-t-S as Kato went into a perfect sit

“I do” said Kato fluttering her eye lashes “And is that mayo with black pepper, my favourite”

“Best not, she’ll pester you”

Kato put her head on one side and looked up in birthday card puppy pose guaranteed to melt the hardest heart.

“Aww, he’s hungry” said Mrs D-t-S

“I am” agreed Kato “Can’t remember when I last ate...feel quite faint”

To emphasise this fact – Kato feigned death. Slumping to the floor and rolling carefully on her side, one eye fixed on the Sandwich of Life. Only this sandwich could revive her. Mrs D-t-S made more aww noises and was breaking part of her sandwich off.

I knew Kato would take it gently but then chew it up, spit it out several times because she doesn’t like white bread or egg very much, and hates salad. Kato will follow me round the kitchen insisting “I do like white bread. I like white bread today” but then she just buries it or spends the rest of the day guarding a spit drenched lump in case it turns into a steak. When she eventually loses interest Frodi, who will eat anything, will eliminate it. Kato will play with a piece of celery until it is filthy and hide boiled potatoes in her bed.

“Just called in to give you this” I said throwing the cucumber at Mrs D-the-S and dragging Kato from the shop.

“See ya, and feed that poor dog, him hungry, aww”


my old collie x Osca used to bury roast spuds down the back of the sofa and then growl if anyone approached the sofa to sit down...or bury chewies under a single strand of TV cable and then admire his efforts in concealment...
Mr. and Mrs. Dave the Shop are great, proper shop, a little Arkwrighty in places.