Pino LONG STEMMED LOVELIES

Pino LONG STEMMED LOVELIESPino DRESSING TABLEPino DAYDREAMPino DANCING IN BARCELONAPino close to my heart
That’s the fleabag that’s been hanging around,’ he said. ‘It gives me the creeps.’
‘Heave something at it,’ suggested the other man.
The trainer reached down and picked up a stone. When he stood up again the alley was empty. Drunk or sober, Gaspode had perfect reflexes in certain circumstances.
‘See?’ the other side of the fence said, ‘I could send you a bone with a file in it, only you’d eat it.’
Laddie perked up.
‘Good boy Laddie! Good boy Gaspode!’
‘Ssh! Ssh! At least they ort to let you speak to a lawyer,’ said Gaspode. ‘Chaining someone up’s against human rights.’ trainer said, glaring at the shadows. ‘It’s like it’s some kind of mind reader.’ ‘It’s just a mutt,’ said his companion. ‘Don’t worry about it. Come on, get the leash on this one and let’s get him back before Mr Dibbler finds out.’ Laddie followed them obediently back to Century of the Fruitbat, and allowed himself to be chained up to his kennel. Possibly he didn’t like the idea, but it was hard to be sure in the network of duties, obligations and vague emotional shadows that made up what, for want of a better word, had to be called his mind. He pulled experimentally on the chain once or twice, and then lay down, awaiting developments. After a while a small hoarse voice on the