The Charm of the Mongrel.

Chapter 1

The Kennels.

It was 8.00 in the morning. I stretched my medium doggy legs over the space of my enclosure and opened one eye lazily to inspect the visitors. 

Beer belly guy. Lady who was with a screamy child. The usual.

Sunny Planes Kennels. London. My home for years. 

''I promise I'll be your loving companion!'' I shouted through the clingy bars of my cage which stuck to my fur in a most irritating manner, suddenly waking up as the more suitable owners edged in, avoiding Pitt, the Staffordshire Bull Terrier. He looked scary, but what a big softy on the inside! (Poor Staffie's- everyone thinks they are EVIL!  So not true...)

''Look, I'll give you a nice, friendly lick! Can't resist that...surely?!?'' I continued. I'd been here so long, repeating the same, boring words, again...and again...and again...

The poshest woman walking through Sunny Planes Kennels watched me with a glare. She edged away even more when she saw the Staffie standing protectively next to my side, after being let in for a doggy play, and opted to stroke a little poodle in the corner.

''Humm...that's right. Adele is ze best, is she not?'' Adele the Poodle whispered from her cage as she lay back in absolute bliss as her probably-to-be owner tickled her fur. ''Yes!''

''Come on, woman!'' I shouted, in a desperate hope for her to consider me. She lifted her nose and walked straight on, adoption form in hand. It was obvious she was going to write 'Adele, Toy Poodle' on it.  Not, 'Button the Mongrel who actually prefers to be called a cross-breed.' But she obviously hated me.

Then I realised. To her I was simply barking...and that's what this silly human heard! She wouldn't adopt me if she thought I was yappy- but even when I didn't bark, it was obvious she still didn't like me anyway.  I only wanted a home, yet everyone just ignored me and went straight to the little clique of chihuahua's in the corner. Typical...

Why THEM and not ME? I'm simply as good! You know me! Always charming and...oh dear!

Oh gosh! How could I forget! Let me introduce myself. My name is Button (cute name, right?) and I have been in the kennels for 2 years. I'm a mongrel, (well that's what everyone calls me, I guess, even though I am actually a cross between a Cairn Terrier and a Yorkshire Terrier) yet that doesn't mean people can be excused of taking me home! I'd never hurt a fly! Well, I did eat an ant once, but he was 85 and an old enemy of mine, so taking it all into consideration he deserved it. I have to say, it tasted rather good like an old leather shoe...what a delicacy!

Anyway, I keep getting distracted. It is nice here, don't get me wrong. I just want an ever lasting home...not even my big-eyed gaze does the trick. It works for that little pug over there! (her name's Polly by the way!) Why doesn't it work for me?  Thinking about it, it's probably cause she is a bit of a hot stuff...especially her distinctive wrinkles. Wow, might make a move on her...

Sorry, distraction is a weak point. You've got enough information anyway. Stuck here for another 345 days or something, I guess.

''Hey, Polly!'' I barked, nothing else to do for the next year, shuffling over and shoving Pitt to the side.

''Oi!'' Pitt swaggered over and tripped over a doggy chew and flew to the edge of the cage, barking uncontrollably. A group of Bichon Frise's giggled and immediately stopped as the Staffie growled as a warning. 

(At the kennels, we had thousands of different breeds. Crosses, Bichons, Chihuahuas, Pugs, Alsations, Sheepdogs, Basset Hounds, Yorkies, Westies, English Bulldogs, Mastiffs, Boxers, Patterdales and most of all Staffies. To name a few, I mean.)

''Sorry, Pitt!'' they all chorused and scattered across their cage sending him big licks through the bars of their ajoining cages. Pitt nodded and curled up like a snail to sleep, keeping a watchful eye open for any intruders.

Polly glanced over at me and bowed her head, giggling. She had been one of my closest friends for years, one that had never been adopted yet. I always had a secret crush on her- and I am sorry if this tale is moving too fast for you. But I don't want to focus on the negative- I want to focus on the positive. The language of lurveee....

''Ma dame , les soins de partager ma cage ce soir et je vais vous debarrasser de Pitt...juste toi et moi et leche doggy. Hein?''

''Huh?'' Polly questioned, cocking her head to the side, half in true confusement and half as a cute show for all the possible dog adopters.

''Oh,'' I said, my flirty aura abolished, ''It means, 'My lady, care to share my cage tonight and I will rid you of Pitt, just you and me and a doggy lick. Eh?''

It didn't sound quite as good in English, yet I Iet out a big, joyful bark and grinned, showing off my big canine teeth and attempted to walk on my hind legs. A couple stopped to watch and I eagerly leaped up at the bar...before they headed off to a little Westie at the furthest edge of the corridor. Again.

''Aww Button!'' Polly ran around her cage sniffing the ground and finally finding the scrap of chicken she was looking for. She carefully slid me some and I pushed it back like a true gentleman, and she ate it daintily. ''Of course!'' she began to chew at her lock and before anyone could see, scattered across the floor and leaped into my open door. Curling up against me, I stroked her black fur and admired her wrinkled nose. I needed the toilet, so I walked across and placed a napkin on the floor, releaving myself. I didn't want to pee anywhere near Polly, who was a full pure-bred pedigree, fresh from the planes of L.A. Life in England was...different and I didn't want her to: 

1) Take offence at my bad manners.

and

2) Get bad ideas about England.

I picked it up and chucked it out of the cage bars quickly, watching my brilliant shot hit the posh woman on the butt, and Adele bark angrily. 

''What's the matter, dear?'' her new owner asked, as the poodle wriggled at me furiously. ''Goodness me, calm down! Calm down, now!'' I heard her whispering ferociously at her as she walked towards the exit and I barked with glee at the sight. Polly scratched and snuggled down into my doggy bed. 

''Night, Button,'' she murmered, in her delightful American accent, even though it was only 8.10 AM!

''Night, Polly,'' I murmered back and trotted over to my bed giving myself a quick, routine scratch. Just I was about to go to sleep, my routine was interrupted, because she had taken my bed, and I snuffled gently to get my pug's attention.

''WOOF!'' I barked, trying not to scare her. But it didn't work.

''Oh,'' I watched as the pug's eyes closed down and took possesion of my fluffy bed completely.

But as the man I was, I took refuge on the cold floor and curled up in a tight ball, ignoring Pitt as he sniffed my bottom in a rude manner. Obeying my promises to my Bella Dame (a mix of Italian and French! How romantic...) I shoved Pitt out of my cage, biting my lock hard and put him back in his cage, ignoring his distressed cries.

I glanced at Polly one last time. ''Night, my beauty!'' and woofed gently and lowered my eyes. The language of love had worked, and that lick that I would give tomorrow would do the trick!