Run fast, little teckel. Run fast and run true. Run 'til your small heart beats like a drum inside your deep chest. Run until your breath pushes your chest in and out like bellows.
For here in the woods, the Gaspers live. I have just seen one behind you, his matted hair fouled with the slime of a thousand slugs, his breath as putrid as the deepest swamp, and his yellow eyes swivelling constantly round in search of his prey. I can hear him crashing through the trees and snapping the twigs in the forest as he chases you. He can run fast on his bandy legs. If he catches you, he will cut off your legs. Already your legs are just stumps because long ago, one of your ancestors, Ruben the Digger, dared to dig in this part of the woods. When a Gasper came upon him, he was angry with Ruben for digging so hard, and he started to chase him. Then he tripped in the hole which Ruben had dug. Enraged with pain, he caught the dog, and cut off his legs so that he could dig no more. Later that night, the wood fairies came and found the poor suffering dog, and with their woodland magic, they were able to sew his paws back on again with tendrils from ivy leaves, and they placed spiders webs around the wounds to help them heal. But, before he had left,the Gasper had sat and gnawed upon Ruben's legs, and they were too badly damaged to be replaced. This, as you know, is how the teckels came to have such short legs, and this is also how the Gaspers came to have bandy legs and bad tempers. It's the reason why the Gaspers hate teckels even more than tax officers, or social workers, or MP's or even bankers. So keep on running little one, and do not stop until you have crossed the bridge and run out of the forest and safely into the sunshine.