CHARACTERS

GEORGE - A complex and emotional Jack Russell Terrier (otherwise known as 'The Sickbag' by Simon*) adopted from Battersea Dogs home by:-

PHILIPPA - (or 'Pips' to George), late 30's, single, lives in Islington, works as a P.A. for:-

SIMON* - Director of the company, late 30's. Otherwise known as 'The Tosser' by George.

FREDDIE - West Highland Terrier, George's best friend and owned by:-

TERRY - who lives nearby

RUTHIE FIELDS - Cairn Terrier who is walked in the neighbouring gardens by her owner:-

ELLIOT - widower, late 70's, American


Following on from last week's episode...


Wednesday

Fifty Six

QUICK PIPS QUICK QUICK!
‘Sssh George. It’s early. You’ll wake up everyone in the house’.
But I can’t wait, I CAN’T WAIT.
‘Just let me get my boots on’.
You always keep me waiting Pips.
‘Now where is my hat?’
COME ON COME ON COME ON COME ON COME ON COME/
‘George stop it otherwise we are not going out in the snow. And you are not to start barking when we’re outside either or you’ll wake up the whole street’.
Here is your glove Pips.
‘Oh! Thank you’.
And your other glove is on the floor under the table. I’ll get it, I’ll get it…………………………. Here.
‘Gosh. You’re being very co-operative suddenly’.
I am always co-operative Pips, it is only you who isn’t.
‘Right, let’s go. Now where’s your lead? Oh no, let’s not bother. The world is still asleep and there won’t be any cars around’.
Really Pips? That will be terrific. No lead for George on this very special morning. I am thrilled.
‘Now be quiet on the stairs’.



‘George?’

Pips?

‘Don’t wander too far’.

I’m not.

‘You look grey against the
snow George. You’re not white
at all. You look positively
grubby’

I am not listening to you Pips. I
am listening to the snow falling.

‘Listen. There’s not a sound’.

Apart from you.

‘Just the snow falling. I feel as though
I am in one of those paperweights that
you shake and watch the snowstorm. It’s
so pretty. George?’

The more it
SNOWS – tra la la la
The more it
GOES – tra la la la
The more it
GOES – tra la la la
On
Snowing


‘George?’

And nobody
KNOWS – tra la la la
How cold my
TOES – tra la la la
And how cold my
NOSE – tra la la la
Are
Growing


‘George?’

Coming Pips. I was just adapting
the great poem by Winnie the Pooh
who was caught in a snowstorm
himself once.


‘There you are!’
Look at me. I can melt snow……………….. There. See? Can you see it steaming?
‘You know sometimes I think you pee everywhere just for the sake of it’.
Look. I can melt a little trail.
‘Or to provoke me’.
I can make designs in the snow. And now if I run back and forth…..
‘Oh George’.
And round and round…
‘Don’t do that. What a mess you’re making’.
It is not a mess. It is a pattern that I shall call…… what shall I call it? I will call it ‘Snow Garden’ by George. Lovingly created in about a minute on the morning of the 8th February in Islington, London. I am sure Charles Saatchi would be very interested in such a spontaneous and exuberant work of art.
‘The street looked so beautiful before, when it was a pristine blanket of snow’.
You obviously have no appreciation of the nature of art Pips. No, none at all. So you will also fail to understand that the beauty of this particular work of art of mine is its temporariness. Because the falling snow will cover it up again so that to those people who pass by in maybe even just twenty minutes time it will be as though it never existed.
‘You’ve got a big snowflake on the end of your nose George and it’s not melting which means your nose must be very cold’.
It is Pips. I can’t feel it. I can’t smell anything either. But great works of art are not accomplished without some suffering.
‘Let’s go back inside and have breakfast and warm up before we have to go to work’.
That would be terrific. I have the feeling that my ‘Snow Garden’ is just the first in what will be a series - from here to Bloomsbury.
‘I think we’ll catch the bus in to work today’.
WHAT?

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