, and when he is not brooding
over his national grievances is a merry fellow and always ready to
share a bone with a pal. So I ruled that on account of the historic
wrongs of Ireland we would overlook Snap's defiance of the Public
Bones Order and allow him to be one of us.

One of the first things you learn in the trenches is the use of tact
in coping with delicate situations. Well, we drew up a very strong
platform and were on the point of carrying it unanimously when our
secretary, a clever fellow but temperamental, like all poodles,
spotted the big yellow cat from No. 14 slinking down the street on
some poisonous errand or other, and the meeting adjourned in what I
can only describe as a disorderly manner. Of course we are treating
the Declaration of Peace Aims, as we called it, as carried, though the
secretary insists on adding a fifteenth point, which he says is of
vital importance, relating to the Declawing of Yellow Cats.

The first plank in our platform is BRITAIN FOR BRITISH DOGS, which
sounds very well, don't you think? Sassafras, the Aberdeen terrier
from No. 3, a solid fellow but unimaginative, wanted it to be ONCE A
U-DOG ALWAYS A U-DOG, but I ruled that that couldn't be right because
once there had been a U-dog next door to us, but now there wasn't. Of
course they all wanted to hear about it, but we war dogs are supposed
to be as modest as we are brave, so I simply said that he was _spurlos
versenkt_. But it isn't only German dogs we draw the line at. Take the
Pekinese. I've always said if we didn't combat the Yellow Peril we'd
regret it, and now the pests are everywhere. My master's woman has one
which she calls Pitti Sing. Did you ever hear of such a name for a
dog? But then it isn't a dog in the real sense of the word. Only last
Friday the little beast flew at me--all over an absurd chicken bone
which was really meant for me but had been put on to its plate by
mistake--and deliberately filled my mouth full of nasty fluffy fur.

Of course the woman had to come in at that moment and, instead of
chastising the little monster, she grabbed it up and hugged it,
saying, "Diddums nasty great dog bite um poor ickle Pitti Singums?"
and a lot more silly rot equally at variance with the facts. I wagged
my tail at her to show it wasn't my fault, but she just wouldn't see
reason and told master that I must have a good whipping. Of course
master and I both know that one isn't whipped for a little thing like
that, s