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Tiger is a Sydney-sider. He was found under a Gumtree masquerading as


a schnauzer. His new owners thought they smelled a rat, realised he was
a vestige short on pedigree, but fell in love with him just the same. With
little formal education, Tiger has found writing an exhilarating experience.
He finds that words can be a rich palate for his creative expression. His
vocabulary has grown exponentially; his punctuation has almost reached
perfection.
Tiger would love to pursue a career as an author. He already pursues cats,
and has only recently realised that chasing his tail gets him nowhere. Tiger is
now 2 years old. This is his first book.

Jean learned to speak Dog as a young child, so quickly became bilingual. As


a 12 year old she dreamed of breeding dogs. Sadly that never happened
as she became too busy with other things such as being a mother of three
children. She is a musician, composer, and a professional writer of many
textbooks and songs to teach English to children. The series of books
Phonics Fun published by Pearson Education has sold worldwide.
Jean has a Doctorate in Creative Arts from the University of Western
Sydney. As a part of this degree she composed the musical for children
The Magic Jungle which is promoted through Origin Musicals, Australia,
and Theatrical Rights Worldwide in New York.
Originally from London, Jean spent 23 years in Hong Kong, before moving
to Sydney where she and her husband now share Tigers house.

Lucy was born in Kyoto, Japan in 1989 and lived in both Tokyo and Kyoto.
She was educated in Japanese schools until she was 11 when she moved
with her family to Sydney, Australia. Lucy has always drawn and painted and
her work is deeply influenced by Japanese art and culture. In 2014, Lucy
received the Thea Proctor Scholarship from the Julian Ashton Art School,
receiving her diploma on completion of the year. Lucy is continuing to
study at the Julian Ashton Art School and working as a full-time artist and
illustrator.

Copyright Jean Bunton (2015)


The right of Jean Bunton to be identified as author of this work has been
asserted by her in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyright,
Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored
in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic,
mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior
permission of the publishers.
Any person who commits any unauthorized act in relation to this
publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for
damages.
A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.
ISBN 978 1 78455 663 1 (Paperback)
Illustrations Lucy Pulvers (2015)

www.austinmacauley.com
First Published (2015)
Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd.
25 Canada Square
Canary Wharf
London
E14 5LQ

Printed and bound in Great Britain

Tiger Bunton-White

You cant catch a


Tiger by his tail

CHAPTER ONE
ON THE EIGHTH DAY, GOD CREATED DOGS...
SHOULD HAVE DONE IT SOONER.
TIGER

Since early puppyhood I have longed to put paw to paper. They (thats
Mr and Mrs Bunton-White, who live in my house) think that I have little
intelligence and limited imagination.
Look, They exclaim, its almost as if he understands us!
Well of course I do. The problem is that there are so few humans who try
to master Dog.
I have this gnawing sensation that I should write a novel. Every time
they go out I chew over some of my ideas. Should I write an animalated
autodogography? A simple dogalogue? A dogtorate: lofty philosophical
thoughts from the canine world? An escapist romp in the great outdoors?
A tail for every dog and his man? Or even an adventure retrievered from
all the walks of my life? Well, I have a nose for this sort of thing and I think it
could be grrrreat, dont you? Maybe even a best smeller?
And so my story starts one morning when They were out, having carelessly
left the TV remote on the coffee table.

INTERESTING, I
THOUGHT, I COULD
DO WITH A GOOD
SQUARE MEAL.

So once I had nibbled around the edges I completely lost my guard


and took one great aggressive chomp out of the top. It didnt taste too
appetising. There was a strange sensation but I felt it would pass.
I told my DogFace friends, with whom I socialise, about this significant
event.
Peggoty, a retired greyhound in England, commented, Tiger, you little
toerag! I hope you didnt damage yourself. They dont want to have to press
your tummy to change channels!
But thats exactly what happened
That evening, on coming home, They werent too happy about my crunchy
snack. And they did actually press my little tummy by accident and On
came the TV! I started seeing things. Strangely vivid things

CHAPTER TWO
THIS ONES SO UGLY, HES CUTE.
DR BANJO, DINGO BEACH
SURELY HE DOESNT MEAN ME?
TIGER

Even more surprisingly I found myself inside the television and part of
the action. I was on a TV channel in Australia showing Dingo Vet with the
gorgeous Dr Banjo, my number one su-paw-hero! Its a beaut programme:
I really dig watching it. I was with him and all at once my inner musings
became a reality. There I was, running at his heels along the beach with
crowds watching us.
We ran along the beach, we ran through the surf, and we ran up the hill
to his famous Vet Clinic. And it was me they were cheering, not Dr Banjo!
Moi. Tigerrr Bunton-White-Superrrdog! The Grrreatest! I was a true canine
superdawg and was hardly able to leash my feelings.
Brrrrr, although I could have
easily outrun him in any
marathon, it was getting a bit
nippy and I was longing for a
warm kennel to keep me toasty
as the mercury plummeted.

Luckily he understood Dog. Wow! What an extraordinary place this Clinic


was. Hundreds of doggy perfumes, but re-pug-nant cat noises, and the
infuriating sounds of many birds tweeting.
Gday, said Dr Banjo, How ya goin alright? Youre a bonza little dog,
mate.
His voice sounded a little husky. Lets find out who you are and where
youve come from. Oh, no collar? No worries, lets check your microchip,
he added.
Maybe he thought it best to vet me first, so he put a peculiar machine
beside my neck and looked
a bit surprised.
Mmmnn, he mmmned.
What was he mmmning
about?
THIS CHIP SAYS YOURE
A GREAT DANE, WHICH
CLEARLY YOU ARENT,
AND THAT YOUR NAME
IS BRUTUS. CRIKEY!
No, no, nooooooo, Im not, I looked pleadingly into his eyes.
He kept the consultation going, saying, You live in the country, at Tumbi
Umbi. Well, wed better get you back there quick smart. The chip certainly
doesnt describe your breed. I think there may be a mix up there. Youre
a combination of uncountable varieties of terrier and, looking at the
irrepressible way you keep jumping up and down, probably half kanga-too.