Blind Pugh and Asbo are quite excited. All week they have heard tales of the exiting things to do. The walk round the compound. The beating of tails on the pipes to send messages to other dogs. The luxury synthetic gruel substitute. And on Thursday the Daily Witter ran an article about dogging in the valley.
All in all a glowing prospect The hound about town goes on holiday.
She Of The Town House is sad to see them depart but is secure in the knowledge that they will be well cared for. A sniff, and a hint of a tear escape, as she turns away back to the car.
The man in uniform stashes the cheque in the safe with unseemly haste. He retrieves his kepi and mirrored sunglasses and leads the two bemused dogs along landing 41b to cell 15.
Far behind her now, a vast door made of toughened steel booms as it shuts. Echoes resound from the hard concrete surfaces.
A faint massed whistling can be heard from the jungle beyond…..