[Dailydrool] London Adventure, Tuesday pm, Number 10 Downing Street

Wed May 3 02:35:31 PDT 2017

Younger Clara here:
While we were drying off in the spring sunshine, Rusty noticed a boatload of puparazzi heading our way. They had caught wind of the fact that UK celebrity Sir Rolphimis Fitzspaniel of Avondale (Rolph to you and me) and US celebrity Mariah of Hawaii and Daphneyland, who is a good friend of actress Hilary Swank, had been involved in an incident on the Thames.
"Oh no," groaned Rolph, my beautiful long coat is a mess.""Hide me," pleaded Mariah. "I can't have Mr Leidenschaft see me like this!", as she picked duck weed out of her ears.

Ipo was straight on it. She stood up on the railing and shouted "Nothing to see here. Move along please. "whatdya mean says who? Says me, that's who." and then she said a few things which I think must have been Hawaiian words because a well brought up English hound like me had never heard them before. Anyway, the puparazzi backed off.
Cleo graciously came out on deck to welcome us, before retiring back to her state room until there was something on the agenda she felt fitting for an empress.
The rest of us were put ashore at Westminster pier where we decided to have a closer look at the sites we'd driven past earlier.
As we walked up to the barriers at the end of Downing Street, where the Prime Minister lives at Number 10, a large tabby and white cat ran in front of us. I don't know exactly who it was that started the chase, it could have been Paisley, but before I could bark "Stop, that's Larry the Number 10 cat!" we were streaming past the security checkpoint, knocking the armed police over and heading straight for that famous door. Well, what could I do? Once the nose engages, you just gotta run.
The police guard saw Larry and opened the door and was unable to shut it against the flood of hounds galloping past him into the famous foyer with the black and white tiles, watchman's chair and works of art, where statesmen and women from around the world are greeted by the PM.
Larry skittered left at full pelt, and we were right on his heels as he skidded under desks in the press office. The hounds hardly paused long enough to grab the staffs' packed lunches before they were back on Larry's scent, doubling back up a staircase which leads to all the staterooms.
Rolph, Halfred, Hooter and Madden who are slowing down a bit, dropped behind the pack. "Just look at these cases of priceless silver and fine glassware," they're amazing, sighed Madden."They are agreed Rolph, "and look, genuine art by Turner and Constable, but we better get moving. If we get caught up here we'll be taken off and locked up in the Tower of London.
"Where do you think the others are? asked Halfred. A large crash gave the answer as the door to the official dining room opened to reveal  Mozart and Paulie chasing Larry up and down the giant, highly-polished table and the other hounds and wannabes, circling to stop him escaping.
Larry had the advatage of knowing the building and chose his moment to leap off the table and clutch at the fine curtains which hung by the windows down one side of the room. From there he skittered above their heads into the Terracotta Stateroom, clawing at the carved plasterwork in his anxiety to escape. I'm afraid he may have damaged the carving of  man carrying a stook of straw up a ladder. It was added by former premier Margaret Thatcher, as a way of making sure there was always a thatcher in Downing Street. 
>From there, Larry fell onto the treasured desk where countless Prime Ministers had written and signed world-changing documents.
The hounds thought they had him surrounded again, but Larry jumped over their heads on to one and then the other of the silk couches, where foreign dignitaries are usually entertained. Both elegant antique sofas were upended as the pack were right on his tail. 
>From there, they narrowly avoided knocking over a display case of medieval silver as they chased him into the White State Room, which is lined with books (and each bookcase has a tiny carved bee on it,  apparently Tony Blair's response the the thatcher!).
Larry was getting fed up now. This was his home and he wasn't going to put up with a load of rude hounds chasing him any longer - doglomats or no.
He doubled back across the pelmets and jumped from room to room, with the baying pack almost on his tail. Then he pushed open a great big set of oak doors and lept on to the lozenge-shaped table. 
As the hounds cannoned into the room they were confronted by 20 angry looking men and women. One of them was none other than Theresa May, the British Prime Minister. The hounds immediately stopped dead. "What are you doing in the cabinet office?" she stormed at the hounds. "Sir Rolphimis? Is that you skulking at the back? And you a peer of the realm? What do you think you're doing?"
Abashed, the hounds tucked their tails right under their tummies. Rolph, unusually, was tongue-tied. Then one of the ministers looked at the pack -"Emma? Is that you? I heard you were in London, but I didn't expect to meet you here!"
Emma rolled on to her back for a nice tummy rub from her English second cousin's slave. It seems he must have been someone very important as we were politely escorted all the way out of Downing Street with no mention of the Tower, or of Larry's injured feelings.
We were all rather tired after our chase, but Paisley spotted a fish and chip shop in Strutton Grounds, on the way back to the Tube station. Her nose and tail were in the air as she led us into the chippy and ordered double portions for everyone, which we took back to St James Park and ate while watching the pelicans, before falling asleep on the grass.
More laterClara, chief tour guide to Rolph and about 30 other hounds and a host of basset angels, in London.
Where we went https://www.gov.uk/government/organisations/prime-ministers-office-10-downing-street
I would like to thank all the hounds and their humans who have donated their cookie money to Basset Rescue Network of Great Britain. I understand some people who have donated haven't even got a hound on the trip. Aunty Sam, who helps homeless bassets over here is very happy - but please don't stop. All donations, no matter how small, are very welcome.

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