Mrs Grim’s Pet Dinners
By Tom Moody
When I was ten my dog was kidnapped. His name was Sam. He was a lovely little lump who wouldn’t have hurt a fly (not even in self-defence). Sam was my best friend – so you can imagine my grief when he vanished. Mum said he’d probably run away. But I knew Sam wouldn’t do that. Deep down I knew he’d been snatched – and I had a pretty good idea of who the snatcher might be…
Mrs Grim was grim. She was also grotty – and grubby. Mrs Grim was a grim and grotty grubber. And she smelled – bad. (Worse than bellybutton gunk.) The old lady had a face like a smacked bottom and skin like a crumpled envelope.
Mrs Grim lived in a shabby shack on the edge of town. The place was a pigsty (no offence to any pigs reading). The bricks were chipped and the roof tiles were loose and the garden was wild and unkempt like a tramp’s beard.
There had always been rumours Mrs Grim was a pet-snatcher. She apparently liked to kidnap pets, cook them and EAT them! Two days after Sam’s disappearance, I decided to investigate…
I ventured to Mrs Grim’s house under the cover of night. At the foot of her driveway was a towering metal gate. Attached to the gate was a sign which read KEEP OUT. Usually, if a person has a KEEP OUT sign attached to their gate, it means they have something to hide. Did Mrs Grim have something to hide? I was keen to find out. So I climbed over the gate and began the long trek up the driveway. Tree branches craned overhead like witches’ fingers. I wanted to go home. But something told me I had to stay – for Sam’s sake. So I went on – and soon I had arrived at the house.
Mrs Grim’s house was a tip. (And not even a good tip where you can chuck an old TV into a giant skip.) I looked into the first room I came across. It was the living-room. In it was Mrs Grim…
She was slouched in her armchair, eating Coco Pops and watching TV. Mrs Grim did not eat like regular people: small mouthfuls, chew and then swallow. No, Mrs Grim ate at an alarming rate. She barely took the time to chew before the next load was shovelled in like sand into a cement mixer. When she did chew, I could see all the mushed-up Coco Pops tumbling around inside her mouth like socks inside a washing machine.
I turned away from the window. That was when I heard the sound of a dog whimpering. It was Sam!
Ears pricked, I followed the whimpering around the side of the house to a window. This window led to Mrs Grim’s basement…
Now, you’d think a woman harbouring kidnapped pets would keep her windows locked. Not Mrs Grim. I opened the window and climbed down into the basement.
The basement was what I had expected: squalid. A small lightbulb swung from the ceiling like a pendulum.
‘Sam…?’ I whispered.
‘Woof,’ he replied.
I turned to a cobwebbed corner. In it was Sam. He stood cowering. Poor Sam had been locked in this basement for TWO DAYS without food or water. How could anybody treat a dog this way? Mrs Grim was twisted like a pig’s tail (no offence to any pigs reading). Then I saw the sheet of paper taped to the wall. It looked like this…
The rumours were TRUE! Mrs Grim was a dog-scoffer! Well, I was not going to let her cook Sam. ‘Come on, mate. Let’s go home,’ I said.
‘Woof,’ he replied.
Out of the basement, we climbed. We were free! Or were we…?
Sadly, we were not free. Waiting for us outside was the infamous Mrs Grim…
‘What in the name of jumpin’ jiffy do yer fink yer doin’?!’ she screeched.
‘Liberating my dog.’
‘Pah! Yer dog ain’t goin’ nowhere!’ she said. Then she burst spontaneously into song…
‘Dogs they go into tummy,
Yes, they taste real nice.
Other pets I like to eat:
Rabbits, cats and mice.
Puppies taste divine in pasta –
With a splash of wine.
All the pets around this town
Are soon to be all mine.
Cats I like to munch for breakfast,
Rabbits for my lunch.
Hamsters: yum! I love the sound
Of when their bones go crunch!
Mrs Grim, that is the name,
Eat dogs with no regrets:
Sleep with one eye open, kids:
I’m coming for your pets!
Mrs Grim was a cracking lyricist. But here’s the thing: because she was so busy singing her tune, she failed to notice Sam and me sneak past her. She closed her eyes and sang like an X Factor contestant as Sam and I took the long walk down the driveway to freedom.
So there we have it. Mrs Grim was arrested and sent to prison. She kissed goodbye to her freedom when she was charged with crimes against pets. When the police raided her house, they discovered other pet recipes. Including…
So what happened to Mrs Grim’s house? Well, a lady called Mrs Meadow moved in. She was a lovely person, all smiles and sunshine. But do you want to know the best thing about Mrs Meadow? She was a vegetarian!
THE END- Total nr. of readings: 2,424 Copyright © The author  All Rights Reserved. This story may not be reproduced without the express written permission of the author except for personal use.
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I remember recording a live session with Tom Moody back in the days when he was a singer-songwriter. His songs were fantastic, with lyrics that really told a story. Well guess what? The music might be missing now, but the story telling seems to be alive and kicking! Good on yer Tom. I’m afraid I might be considered by some to be a little grey around the gills for kids stories, but who cares what “some” think hey? 😉
Cheers, John! I really enjoyed that session I did with you. Thank you for your lovely comments.
No hate or anything, but I think I spotted some spelling mistakes.
1: “…not even in self *DEFENSE…”
2: “…(no OFFENSE* to any pigs reading)…”
3: (Same thing as #2)
It was still a great story, though! One of my favorites!
Hi Alyson and thanks for the comments. I think it’s a case of American vs. British English – the site is designed for a worldwide audience, so generally we try to US the British spelling of words as it’s a little more international. We don’t always catch them all, but we try!
See here for more details: https://www.grammarly.com/blog/defence-defense/