Dashing Dog by Margaret Mahy - read by Annamieke Wraight
Description
Vocal Characteristics
Language
EnglishVoice Age
Teen (13-17)Accents
New ZealandTranscript
Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
Dashing Dog by Margaret May. He illustrated by Sarah Garland Weed. But to make you late, dashing dog, dashing dog or water sight to see cleaned up and curlicued what did a lot to be greeting a dog that is brushed up and down. Every daredevil, daring and dog about tannery scene with a dog that is deeper and dandified will appear glorious, gallant and grand. What a dog! What a dog fit to inspire. So it is Go walking so folks can for Maya, Down on the sand, girls perambulations pondering, keeping one eye on whatever comes. Wondering Moscow's the Dog King to catch every quill of thumb up Go the girls, every feather and bill of, um, sandy and sticky and **** a hoop K pre tangled and seaweed by way of the drapery, straggling and salty and spotted and sand if I'd. Somehow our dog is no longer so dandified. Break his abounding, the breeze is sighing past. Out of the sand dunes of Frisbee comes flying past Horace. Our dog has leapt up and is catching it, seizing it, scrounging it, stealing it, snatching it. Three other dogs think our dog has done wrong to him. sure that the first B should really belong to them all in a moment. Our darling is 12 around, ruffled and scuffled and wobbled and world around. Never mind. Never mind. He's still respectable. Some of the damage is quite undetectable. Brush off that seaweed and make more orderly. Then we will stroll along dreamy and orderly, dreamy and orderly. Oh, look at that, my dear. Snooping through sea grass is somebody's cat, right? Yeah, horrors! He's seen. It is our flak. A thunderbolt trouble. Quick double quick devil dog, tangible into a briar rose or rambling, a right riotous wind whistles. Thistles seem ready to fly it. Us seagrass and Bracken and broom may be bearable. Dog and Briareos. The damage is terrible when Dharma Jetty blows out like a gale to see. But where's baby bitty? How could we fail to see? We were distracted. A little one bumbled off right down the GT and splash. She has tumbled off Ran How we run, but a comic goes ripping, passed rushing and racing and speedily skipping past diving and dipping Where Betty is floundering, saving our girl from the danger of drowned a ring. A raft of the hero who swims full of chair to us, bringing back beauty so precious and dear tow us out on the jetty. We're towing them, tugging them, pitting and petting and holding and hugging him. Look at him walking their dose I'll and dutiful, straggling and dripping but actually beautiful. Look at that wagging tail wit, every bit of it. But he's out here, and that is the end.