Aunt Effie and Mrs Grizzle (18 page)

I once knew a dog
who grew very old, and very wise, so wise that he gave up talking. When I told people how wise my old dog was, they asked him difficult questions but, because he’d given up talking, he said nothing. And because he said nothing, people didn’t believe me when I tried telling them that my old dog used to talk.

By the time this book is published, I’ll be seventy-seven. You’re supposed to get wiser, as you grow older but, unlike my wise old dog, I’ve got sillier. What if I live to eighty-seven, or ninety-seven, and go on getting sillier all that time? Perhaps I should give up talking and see if that makes me any wiser; perhaps I should get a young dog who’ll tell people that I used to talk before I got old.

I might do what Aunt Effie’s mother did in this book, and grow down instead of up, and that could mean that I’ll grow wiser as I grow younger again. But what if I can’t stop at just the right age? I don’t know that I’d like being a baby again, having to wear nappies! And what if once I’d grown down, I started growing up again? Would that mean I’d have to go to school and learn to read and write all over again? It should be easier this time. And this time, I’ll take care to get wiser, like my wise old dog.

—Jack Lasenby