Y is for yaff (to bark like a snarling dog):



The Muse, seeing that all the lion was good at was roaring, decided to take matters into her own hands and barked at Rabab.


The latter looked at her as if she should be committed, but I think we all know at this stage that the lady is insane. She was a figment of my imagination after all. Next she tried snarling at him.

“My dear lady, I knew you were a dog,” said Rabab and I had the distinct impression that they were to be his last words. With a jump that would put a ballerina to shame, the Muse soared through the air and landed rather heavily on Rabab. The poor fellow immediately deflated with a rather sad pffffftttt sound. The Muse unceremoniously rolled him up- he was but a paper weight after all (being written and conceived on paper) and stuffed him where the whip had come from. No, we do NOT want to know where that is.
“Right, that’s that,” she said and grinned at me. “Oh, I see the Kitty got your tongue. Is that what you have been up to you mangy lion? Stolen words never made anyone’s tummy full, you know. Just ask me,” she said and stroked her well rounded abdomen.
“Look at me, I am positively anorexic.”
“Pfffttt,” I said and she rounded on me with her teeth bared.
“What was that, dear?” she inquired.
“Uhmmm, nothing, nothing at all.” I was suddenly very afraid of her- she had a lion and heaven only knew when she would whip him out again.
“So, you were thinking of murdering the lot of us weren’t you, dear?”
“I can honestly say I wasn’t.” She looked at me and I had the distinct feeling that she did not believe me.
The history of let sleeping dogs lie.


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