BUNTON, Jean - You can't Catch a Tiger by his Tale

8/20/2019 BUNTON, Jean - You can't Catch a Tiger by his Tale

1/15

2


2/15

3


3/15


4/15

Tiger is a Sydney-sider. He was found under a Gumtree masquerading as

a schnauzer. His new owners thought they smelled a rat, realised he was

a vestige short on pedigree, but fell in love with him just the same. With

little formal education, Tiger has found writing an exhilarating experience.

He nds that words can be a rich palate for his creative expression. His

vocabulary has grown exponentially; his punctuation has almost reached

perfection.

Tiger would love to pursue a career as an author. He already pursues cats,

and has only recently realised that chasing his tail gets him nowhere. Tiger is

now 2 years old. This is his rst book.


5/15

Jean learned to speak Dog as a young child, so quickly became bilingual. As

a 12 year old she dreamed of breeding dogs. Sadly that never happened

as she became too busy with other things such as being a mother of three

children. She is a musician, composer, and a professional writer of many

textbooks and songs to teach English to children. The series of books

“Phonics Fun” published by Pearson Education has sold worldwide.

Jean has a Doctorate in Creative Arts from the University of Western

Sydney. As a part of this degree she composed the musical for children

“The Magic Jungle” which is promoted through Origin Musicals, Australia,and Theatrical Rights Worldwide in New York.

Originally from London, Jean spent 23 years in Hong Kong, before moving

to Sydney where she and her husband now share Tiger’s house.


6/15

Lucy was born in Kyoto, Japan in 1989 and lived in both Tokyo and Kyoto.

She was educated in Japanese schools until she was 11 when she moved

with her family to Sydney, Australia. Lucy has always drawn and painted and

her work is deeply inuenced by Japanese art and culture. In 2014, Lucy

received the Thea Proctor Scholarship from the Julian Ashton Art School,

receiving her diploma on completion of the year. Lucy is continuing to

study at the Julian Ashton Art School and working as a full-time artist and

illustrator.


7/15

Copyright © Jean Bunton (2015)

The right of Jean Bunton to be identied as author of this work has beenasserted by her in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyright,Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, storedin a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic,mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the priorpermission of the publishers.

Any person who commits any unauthorized act in relation to thispublication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims fordamages.

A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Librar y.

ISBN 978 1 78455 663 1 (Paperback)

Illustrations © Lucy Pulvers (2015)

www.austinmacauley.com

First Published (2015)Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd.25 Canada SquareCanary Wharf London

E14 5LQ

Printed and bound in Great Britain


8/15

Tiger Bunton-White

You can’t catch a Tiger by his tail


9/15


10/15

1

CHAPTER ONE

“ON THE EIGHTH DAY, GOD CREATED DOGS...”

“SHOULD HAVE DONE IT SOONER.”

TIGER

Since early puppyhood I have longed to put paw to paper. They (that’s

Mr and Mrs Bunton-White, who live in my house) think that I have little

intelligence and limited imagination.

“Look,” They exclaim, “it’s almost as if he understands us!”

Well of course I do. The problem is that there are so few humans who try

to master Dog.

I have this gnawing sensation that I should write a novel. Every time

they go out I chew over some of my ideas. Should I write an animalated

autodogography? A simple dogalogue? A dogtorate: lofty philosophical

thoughts from the canine world? An escapist romp in the great outdoors?A tail for every dog and his man? Or even an adventure retrievered from

all the walks of my life? Well, I have a nose for this sor t of thing and I think it

could be grrrreat, don’t you? Maybe even a best smeller?

And so my story starts one morning when They were out, having carelessly

left the TV remote on the coffee table.


11/15

2

“INTERESTING,” I

THOUGHT, “I COULD

DO WITH A GOOD

SQUARE MEAL.”

So once I had nibbled around the edges I completely lost my guardand took one great aggressive chomp out of the top. It didn’t taste too

appetising. There was a strange sensation but I felt it would pass.

I told my DogFace friends, with whom I socialise, about this signicant

event.

Peggoty, a retired greyhound in England, commented, “Tiger, you little

toerag! I hope you didn’t damage yourself. They don’t want to have to press

your tummy to change channels!”

But that’s exactly what happened…

That evening, on coming home, They weren’t too happy about my crunchy

snack. And they did actually press my little tummy by accident and… On

came the TV! I started seeing things. Strangely vivid things…


12/15

3


13/15

4


14/15

5

CHAPTER TWO

“THIS ONE’S SO UGLY, HE’S CUTE.”

DR BANJO, DINGO BEACH

“SURELY HE DOESN’T MEAN ME?”

TIGER

Even more surprisingly I found myself inside the television and part of

the action. I was on a TV channel in Australia showing Dingo Vet with the

gorgeous Dr Banjo, my number one su-paw-hero! It’s a beaut programme:

I really dig watching it. I was with him – and all at once my inner musings

became a reality. There I was, running at his heels along the beach with

crowds watching us.

We ran along the beach, we ran through the surf, and we ran up the hill

to his famous Vet Clinic. And it was me they were cheering, not Dr Banjo!

Moi. Tigerrr Bunton-White-Superrrdog! The Grrreatest! I was a true canine

superdawg and was hardly able to leash my feelings.

Brrrrr, although I could have

easily outrun him in any

marathon, it was getting a bit

nippy and I was longing for a

warm kennel to keep me toasty

as the mercury plummeted.


15/15

6

Luckily he understood Dog. Wow! What an extraordinary place this Clinic

was. Hundreds of doggy perfumes, but re-pug-nant cat noises, and the

infuriating sounds of many birds tweeting.

“G’day,” said Dr Banjo, “How ya goin – alright? You’re a bonza little dog,

mate.”

His voice sounded a little husky. “Let’s nd out who you are and where

you’ve come from. Oh, no collar? No worries, let’s check your microchip,”

he added.

Maybe he thought it best to vet me rst, so he put a peculiar machine

beside my neck and looked

a bit surprised.

“Mmmnn,” he mmmned.

What was he mmmning

about?

“THIS CHIP SAYS YOU’RE

A GREAT DANE, WHICH

CLEARLY YOU AREN’T,

AND THAT YOUR NAME

IS BRUTUS. CRIKEY!”

“No, no, nooooooo, I’m not,” I looked pleadingly into his eyes.

He kept the consultation going, saying, “You live in the country, at Tumbi

Umbi. Well, we’d better get you back there quick smart. The chip certainly

doesn’t describe your breed. I think there may be a mix up there. You’re

a combination of uncountable varieties of terrier and, looking at theirrepressible way you keep jumping up and down, probably half kanga-too.”

Documents

BUNTON, Jean - You can't Catch a Tiger by his Tale