Brockit an the Pet Show
by: Wheeler, Les
It wis the day o the local show an sports an the fermer an his wife, Brockit as weel, were aa gyan tae the show. The show cam roon every year an everybody lookit forrit tae a grand day oot.
Eence they arrived at the show site, it was usually the fitba pitch the rest o the year, they set aff tae see the exhibits an spikk tae aa their freens fa wid be at the show as weel. Brockit wis in o a basket an he lay there as the ferm-wife cairried him roon an let aabody admire him for the bonny cat he wis.
The ferm-wife wis in the Rural sae she hid shooin an bulbs entered in the competitions. In the same marquee as the Rural competitions were stalls sellin bric-a-brac an stuff like that an anither pairt far there was a pet show.
‘Ye’d better pit Brockit in tae the pet show,’ said the fermer till his wife an she thocht that she jist micht dae that. Efter aa, there wisna a bonnier cat aroon.
Brockit wis teen owen tae the judges table, gaen a number an made tae sit in a wee stall till the judge wid come roon an hae a look at him. Brockit was in the ‘Household Pets’ section sae there wis aa kinds o beast besides cats. There wis tortoises, rubbits, futtrets, rottans, moosies, dogs, och aa kine o beasts in aa kines o colours.
Noo, Brockit was sittin quietly, behavin himsel, an daein nithin he hidna deen afore. Fan he wis lookin roon he seen this funcy dog that lookit for aa the world like a hairy greyhoond. It wis a Borzoi, but Brockit jist kent it wis a dog. The dog lookit back at Brockit an it was plain they werena very keen on een anithers company.
The judge cam roon an he gaed first prize tae a tortoise that belanged tae the meenister’s loon, Brockit had tae be happy wi second prize an third prize wint tae the gamey’s futtret.
The funcy dog obviously didna like the decision for he began tae bark an yank at the lead that kept him tied tae his stall. Brockit wis glowerin at the dog for makkin sic a feel o himsel an the dog picked on Brockit tae bark at an he barked looder than ivver.
Brockit wis feelin fair pleased wi himsel at gettin a prize an jist lauched, the wye a cat does, at the dog. But he didna lauch for lang. The nail that wis huddin in the dog’s lead cam loose wi a the ruggin it wis gettin an the dog, nae neen pleased wi onything, heided stracht for Brockit. It’s as weel Brockit wis watchin the dog.
The dog took aff an sae did Brockit. He wis oot o his stall, the dog richt ahin him, an on throwe the tent. Tae try tae get awa fae the beast Brockit loupit on tae een o the tables far they were sellin bric--a-brac, an fit they were sellin wis aul records, the kine they hid afore C.D.s, cassettes and lang playin eens cam alang. They were in muckle piles on the table an the table itsel wis gey shoogly.
The feel dog saw Brockit on the table an took a muckle great breenge at it. Brockit loupit clear, but the table coupit ower wi siccan a crash. Fit a stramash! Like nithin ye’ve ivver seen afore. Naebody wis hurt - forbye maist o the aul-farrant records wis broken intae wee bits!
Weel, the dog wis caught an taen hame in disgrace. Brockit wis re-united wi the ferm-wife, fa wis in a gweed mood, for she’d won four prizes in the Rural competitions, an peace broke oot eence mair at the show.
Noo, the show aye feenished wi a marquee dunce at nicht, an as Brockit wis sittin in his basket, watchin the folk birlin loon in their reels an waltzes, he wis thinkin on the heidlines that wid be in the local paper at the end o the wikk:
BROCKIT BRAKS AA RECORDS AT LOCAL SHOW!