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Ping Gets Nabbed
Ping Gets Nabbed
Ping Gets Nabbed
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Ping Gets Nabbed

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There’s no doubt about it, Ping, a Bichon Frise, was very loved by her owner, Mrs Liu,and by the housekeeper, Fran.

She lived the life of a totally pampered pooch in an apartment in West London, being regularly laundered so her hair was a shining white, being fed delicate morsels selected so as not to exacerbate her allergies, and being taken for walks each day in Holland Park where she liked to race through flower beds with Jim and Jack Russell. Mrs Liu had had the good fortune to be widowed early which allowed her to expend her energies on doing very little except making sure that Fran kept Ping in good condition and choosing expensive presents for friends. Ping being stolen while out walking was certainly not part of this rosy picture. After her dog was nabbed, Mrs Liu felt entirely bereft, all she wanted was her little Ping returned. But far from being returned, Ping was cloistered in a darkened garage with other dogs who had either been held until their owners paid a ransom or who were going to be sold. What made matters worse was the presence of a guard dog who growled viciously at anyone who came near her. Ping tried to escape from the unassuming bungalow which housed the stolen dogs and almost failed, it was only with the unexpected help of Labrador puppy, Roger, that they both managed to get away. But the guard dog was let loose to track them down, the beginning of an adventure which had Ping, bedraggled, hungry, frightened and lost. Thus starts another doggy escapade by Otto Vernon, himself a canine, whose skills are designed to appeal to the dotty and dog-besotted of all ages.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherOtto Vernon
Release dateOct 14, 2019
ISBN9781916233867
Ping Gets Nabbed

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    Book preview

    Ping Gets Nabbed - Otto Vernon

    A charmed life

    Ping knew she was beautiful because her owner, Mrs Liu, kept telling her she was. The two of them would gaze lovingly at each other in the hall mirror. Mrs Liu would moue her lips at her own reflection and lose her fingers in Ping’s soft fur. Only a row of knuckles and the diamond on her left hand would remain visible.

    ‘You adorable, you precious,’ Mrs Liu would say to Ping. In response, her darling would let out a little bark, prompting another ‘You adorable, you precious.’ As you know, dogs and their humans can be pretty mawkish, this couple were no exception.

    As far as the practical side of dog-care went, Mrs Liu was a non-starter. She’d never prepared a meal in her life or gone into a supermarket. She knew her way round the food halls of Harrods and Fortnum and Masons alright but that’s as far as it went. Fortunately Fran, Mrs Liu’s cook, was both practical and domestic, and when it came to Ping she wasn’t mawkish or sentimental; although she loved her charge she realised that at times Ping could be a pain.

    All aspects of dog care were left to Fran. It was Fran who plumped up the fur round Ping’s face, applied the eye drops that came in expensive packages from America, took Ping to the pet spa once a week, because Mrs Liu liked a well laundered dog, and it was Fran who ordered the dog’s organic, grain free paté. Ping’s stomach was delicate and after much experimentation only one type of food had been found that suited her.

    Sometimes Mrs Liu had to fly to Hong Kong to berate her sons for some evil misdeed which they hadn’t committed. Both of Mrs Liu’s sons lived in Hong Kong in order to be as far away as possible from their mother. Fortunately, for them, Mrs Liu had been widowed early and had retired to the spacious delights of an apartment in Kensington, West London. This enabled them to run the family business in peace. Only occasionally did their mother feel compelled to interfere with the running of the firm.

    When this happened Ping’s pink travel bag would be packed and she’d be bundled into the back of Fran’s Toyota in order to drive to Fran’s mother for a bit of country air. Fran’s mother, Dot, was completely different to her daughter. She ran a doggie respite service from her home and rather resembled a sack of potatoes that had been poured into a pair of men’s corduroy trousers. She was partially deaf so she didn’t talk, she shouted. Ping loved her life in Kensington but she also loved staying at Hillside with Dot.

    Hillside

    The first words Ping would hear booming out from the back door, as the Toyota chugged up to Hillside House, were ‘Here, she is, the little Princess.’ Ping would peer out of the passenger window, desperate to be let loose in order to say her hellos to Charlie and Candy, the two resident chocolate Labradors.

    ‘Find a pew, Fran, if you can. As you can see, we’re a bit doggy today,’ Dot would shout. It wasn’t much of a surprise when Dot’s neighbours wondered how pretty, precise, little Fran could be related to Dot. Was it possible that someone who was able to cook exquisite cuisine could have been brought up in a place that smelt of dogs and

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