Woof woof, it’s me…GTN Newshound here. Just call me Hound. Always prowling around, hardly a sound! Can’t abide those with something to hide. Doing my best on your behalf, naturally (even though, on a selfish note, the odd bone thrown my way by the kennel keeper across the corridor is most welcome, I have to admit).

Can’t say the trail has been too fragrant lately, yet I picked up the faint scent of something tantalizing, mere hours ago, too, and I reckon you might enjoy my sharing it with you. Can’t be sure where it will lead us to yet, but check this out…After I promised to split the next bone with him, my ‘source’ (whose suitably wet/pink[ish] nose is probably as reliable as mine, though I can’t prove it beyond reasonable doubt, you understand) told me to point the old snout in the direction of a certain large target…a kind of rolling stone that defies the accepted laws of physics by gathering moss all the while. Couldn’t work out wye at the time, but the grey cells soon started co-operating with each other, the penny (please, no ‘new pence’ here) dropped and the vale lifted.

The target appears to have branches everywhere (just like my favourite perambulation circuit after the gales the other week-end…walkies with broken twigs troubling the unmentionables is no joke, I can assure you). Anyway, the ‘source’ said I was to watch out for a couple of heavies leaving the target. Shown the door. Jobbos finito. No juniors, these – two high-ups (or half-way-ups at least) within the target’s higher-arky. Unfortunately for me, the doors slammed shut as I approached the target, denying me the opportunity to follow the trail any further. Grrrrrrr.

Still, tail up, I told myself. Keep your nose to the ground or there won’t be any supper tonight. I was settling into a terrific snuffle when an inner voice had me stopping in my tracks. ‘Come on Hound, surely you can see what’s going on here? The target is looking for a new owner…so there’s a bit of streamling going on. Simple as that.’  Mmm, I pondered, how can we be sure? ‘We can’t,’ the voice responded. ‘But if the ‘source’s’ tail was wagging when he told you, you can take his word for it…just make sure you don’t give him half that bone until they’ve issued the press release.’

Then, as I half-turned back towards the target, I spotted a piece of paper emerging from under the closed doors. Curious, as is my nature, I took a closer look. The following words were written on it: “Personnel matters are confidential and as such I'm afraid we don't comment.”  Aah…supper secured then.

So I turned my attention to the other potential little meal ticket I’ve had my eye on. Word on the street is that the target is busy buying two stores from another group – but which one? I sniffed around them all and got ‘It’s not us’ from all except one…who said: “We don’t comment on rumours,” Just the sort of language the target uses….so I’m drawing my own conclusions. For now, though, woof woof!