In The Beginning…

Firstly, let us introduce ourselves. We are Mr Yip and Mrs Chew, aka Scruffy and Shelagh.

Mr Yip: I’m around 8 or 9, I think, though Math was never my strongest subject. Come to think of it, I didn’t take Math in school. Actually, I never did go to school…so I’m not the sharpest tooth in the head, is that how the saying goes? Anyway, no matter, moving on swiftly, I’m a dapper, mature fella whose favourite thing ever is to go outside, wait til the door is closed, and then bark at nothing. Just for the hell of it.

Mrs Chew: Yes, and you always get Me into trouble too. We always get ushered back indoors way before I want to. Sometimes I’d like to stay outside just a bit longer than 5 minutes. Why Do you do that – bark like a lunatic?

Mr Yip: Well, why do You like to chew things so much? I remember when I first met you, you were just a wee thing, smaller than me. And you just loved chewing everything. You chewed the entire dining room table and chairs set. You chewed up more than one dog bed. It’s because of you that we both had to sleep instead on a jute rug.

Mrs Chew: All puppies chew. You must’ve chewed lots of things as a puppy too? Or didn’t you go through a teething stage? Maybe for you it was straight to Barking University?

Mr Yip: You even chewed the walls in the kitchen!

Mrs Chew: That is neither here nor there now. That was a very long time ago. Nearly 4 years…

Mr Yip: So, I yip, and you chew. Nobody’s perfect.

Mrs Chew: Hence our nicknames.

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Chewing is my thing. I love anything new – here I am in Mum’s bed exercising my jaw muscles with a tennis ball. Just behind me is Monkey, my black gorilla toy. Mum likes to hide Monkey and then get me to find him. He’s nice and squishy and I’ve decided not to rip him apart. Not yet, anyway.

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Sometimes Mr Yip gets confused and thinks his name is Mr Chew. That’s when things get a bit hairy 😄😄 and here you can see me trying to convince Mr Yip of his real identity.

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Soccer ball? Netball? Basketball? No problem! Get those jaws moving!

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Mr Yip’s opinion of my hogging the day bed. Shame his barking is not really a demonstrable talent, unlike mine!

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I want to bark at something, but this wind’s too strong, I might fly away instead!

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Maybe I’ll just howl instead…

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