Bill, Bingo and Bram 2
Dogs had only played walk on parts in my family. As far as I was concerned the all defining object in a house was a television. There was one in Bill's house. It stood like a lonely, redundant
"Radio's best," Bill would
What Bill did for much of the day, when there was life and
Bill rarely left his garden gate unlocked, but most of us could unlock it if, as sometimes happened, a football went into his back yard. He had little tolerance for
For some reason, the cats stayed out of Bill's yard.
They felt no compunction about using our back yard as a
"There, it belongs to her, now she's got it back," he would say.
Though Bill wasn't much of a shot with his squeezy bottle, his yard remained curiously cat free and I sometimes wondered whether the cats had such an awful experience in Bill's yard that they had determined never to make the mistake of returning. Bill would mutter darkly on occasion about 'doing a cat in' if he caught one, but I knew he never would - and knew he never had.
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