My Life as a Dog Page #2

I won't go there.

We'll see. Your mother

will have to decide that.

It's your goddamn fauIt.

Away again.

Nice going.

At Ieast you don't have to go

to the chiIdren's home this time.

Where's your dad?

I don't know.

Somewhere on the Equator, I think.

What's he doing there?

Loading bananas.

I think he should be here

Iooking after you.

Yes. Fathers are

responsibIe, too.

What would happen to the bananas?

Somebody has to Ioad them.

Somebody eIse can do it.

But who?

Who'lI Iook after the bananas?

Anyway, I'll miss you.

It's very practical, see.

You make a note

of everything that's yours.

Then you're on the safe side.

Next time you just tick them off.

I learned that as a child.

Three pairs of shorts.

Write that down.

What more does he need?

Rain jacket. Out in the haIl.

Mom, can't I take Sickan with me?

I toId you, your uncIe

can't take care of a dog.

Why not?

- Did you write down "raincoat"?

- PIease, Mom.

HeIp Mr. Sandberg pack now.

Don't bother your mother.

Raincoat!

- I'm not going to any uncIe!

- Shut up, for God's sake!

- I won't. l won't. I won't.

- Stop that. Shut up!

Damned fooI!

Where is that kenneI?

A IittIe ways out of town.

- Is it a good kenneI?

- Sure.

What if she doesn't like it there?

Why wouIdn't she?

Your train's here, Erik.

Bye, then.

Bye. Say hello to Grandma.

Yeah. See you.

Come on, Ingemar!

lt really bothers me

when I think of that poor dog Laika.

Terrible, sending a dog up

in a space ship without enough food.

She had to do it for human progress.

She didn't ask to go.

- Ingemar?

- Yes.

- WeIcome to Smaland!

- Thanks.

It's getting a IittIe warmer anyway.

Yes, you must have brought

better weather with you.

You must have good Iuck.

You're Iucky with the weather.

It's getting better.

It's fine, Ulla.

Was there too much saIt?

Well, maybe.

A littIe too much saIt.

Ingemar.

You know how they make

these big sausages?

It's simpIe. You take a two-man tent,

a cotton tent.

Then you stuff a moose

and a badger inside it.

And if a mother-in-law happens

to falI into it, it only adds spice.

Then they just fight inside there

until they kilI each other.

They have to chew away at each other,

so they aIl get ground up properIy.

You Iet it shrink

in the sun for a summer,

then hang it in the chimney.

It takes a whiIe, but it's good.

Damned good.

Like a IittIe more, Mother?

No, thanks.

- What is it?

- HeIp me!

Can you go downstairs and find out

what oId Mr. Arvidsson wants?

What do you want, Mr. Arvidsson?

Is that Fransson hammering?

Look and see if Fransson is hammering.

Somebody's Iying on the roof.

I knew it.

Shoot him down, Ingemar.

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