Page 34 - SuperCowboyFlipBook

again. Again Nosey caught him in the chest and sent him rolling. The next time Tippy came sneaking up, he came low, on his belly. Nosey didn’t like it and charged. When Nosey was almost on him, Tippy sprang, and down they rolled. Tippy growled, and Nosey baa’d. Tippy would go off a ways, trying to get Nosey to chase him. Finally, Nosey got the idea and off they went. It wasn’t long before they came back, but Tippy was chasing Nosey. I thought I would join them. Away we went, around the apple tree, under the clothesline, and through the flower bed, just as Mom opened the door. “What is going on here?” “We’re playing tag,” I answered. “Not in my flower bed, you don’t. You take that lamb and that dumb mutt and get out of there.” It seemed as the days went by that we were always in trouble for something, especially Nosey, who decided he liked to eat Mom’s flowers. Daniel even made up a rhyme about us. Tommy has a little lamb; its fleece is white as snow. He drug it home from Brown’s one day because it wouldn’t go. It pulls clothes from the line and stomps them oh so bad. It eats Mom’s flowers, messes on them, and makes her very mad Mom swears that if he does it one more time, that lamb it will be toast. She says, for dinner on that night, we’ll have a mutton roast. One day I decided that it would be safer for us to play in the front yard, away from Mom’s flowers. We had