<html><head></head><body><div style="color:#000; background-color:#fff; font-family:Helvetica Neue, Helvetica, Arial, Lucida Grande, sans-serif;font-size:16px"><div id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1494163186630_2947">It was Tabby who saw the land first. She ran up and down the deck barking Land ahoy! Land ahoy! Waking the bassets who had partied hard until the small hours and who were now all curled up sleeping.</div><div id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1494163186630_2947"><br></div><div id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1494163186630_2948"><br id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1494163186630_2949"></div><div id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1494163186630_2950">I went up on deck to look, with Rolph hot on my heels. “Look,” woofed Tabby, “There’s a bird flying towards us.”</div><div id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1494163186630_2950"><br></div><div id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1494163186630_2951"><br id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1494163186630_2952"></div><div id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1494163186630_2953">Kylee Dawn and Kaitlynn Skye had also arrived on deck and were licking their lips at the sight of the stout pigeon, which was clearly headed towards the deck. “I’m hungry,” woofed Kylee, “can I eat it?”.</div><div id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1494163186630_2953"><br></div><div id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1494163186630_2954"><br id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1494163186630_2955"></div><div id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1494163186630_2956">“Good heavens no!” barked Rolph. Can’t you see the red waistcoat? He’s a Royal messenger.”</div><div id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1494163186630_2956"><br></div><div id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1494163186630_2957"><br id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1494163186630_2958"></div><div id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1494163186630_2959">“Here Mr Royal Birdie,” called Tabby, “land on my back. I won’t eat you.”</div><div id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1494163186630_2959"><br></div><div id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1494163186630_2960"><br id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1494163186630_2961"></div><div id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1494163186630_2962">The pigeon perched on the railings disdainfully and looked round the deck “Where’s that damned Fitzspaniel fella,” he chirped.</div><div id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1494163186630_2962"> “Oh there you are,” he added, seeing Rolph. “You are in so much trouble. So very much trouble. I really wouldn’t want to be in your paws.<br></div><div id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1494163186630_2966"><br id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1494163186630_2967"></div><div id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1494163186630_2966"><br></div><div id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1494163186630_2968">“She’s furious. Spitting! St James’s Court is all up in arms. You’ve really done it this time.”</div><div id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1494163186630_2968"><br></div><div id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1494163186630_2968"><br></div><div id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1494163186630_2971">The pompous pigeon held out his leg importantly and Rolph took the message.</div><div id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1494163186630_2971"><br></div><div id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1494163186630_2972"><br id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1494163186630_2973"></div><div id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1494163186630_2974">As he read it, his jowels quivered and his head dropped. I knew it was serious. What on earth had happened?</div><div id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1494163186630_2974"><br></div><div id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1494163186630_2975"><br id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1494163186630_2976"></div><div id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1494163186630_2977">“Oh no, he murmured. It looks like we have a real doglomatic situation on our hands. While this little drama had been playing itself out, the Good Ship Lollipup was nosing into Dublin Port.</div><div id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1494163186630_2977"><br></div><div id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1494163186630_2978"><br id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1494163186630_2979"></div><div id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1494163186630_2980">“OK!” woofed Rolph as loudly as he could. “All bassets and wannabes to the large state room immediately. We need to hold a crisis conference. I don’t care if Cleo is still asleep. This is no time for airs and graces. We have a massive problem.”</div><div id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1494163186630_2980"><br></div><div id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1494163186630_2981"><br id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1494163186630_2982"></div><div id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1494163186630_2983">Clara, wondering what on earth is happening, on the Good SHip Lollipup with a load of post-party pooped pups, Ireland (almost).</div><div id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1494163186630_2984"><br></div><div id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1494163186630_2984"><br></div><div id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1494163186630_2984">Thank you to all those who have sent money to the British Bassets. If anyone still wishes to give a little cookie money, you can Paypal payments@brngb.org.uk or visit BRNGB’s Just Giving page to pay by card. Those who want to send a check can email me at bassetydogshomr@gmail.com for an address.</div><div dir="ltr" id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1494163186630_2985"><br id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1494163186630_2986"></div></div></body></html>