Mr
Googly Woogly or Mr Brutus the Pug or Mr Googly woogly Brutus or whatever his
name was at that moment, had been constantly clawing the door. He had been at
it since morning snarling, sneering, yelping, barking, salivating, and pissing
at the miniscule gap separating the bottom plank from the floor. He had been
poking underneath with his small stubs for feet. Barking and making other
expected actions to get through. Any attempts to ingress or egress through, had
to be preceded by lifting the pug up by his collar or his shoulders by one of
the servants. The action concludes with putting him down when the portal has
been closed tight and shut. He obstinately persisted for the whole day between
meals until in the evening the master came and picked him up. He had covered
Brutus in a woolen scarf and had carried him to the chair by the fire. He
struggled briefly but capitulated to all the patting, scratching and rubbing. The
warm fire conspired to melt the last vestiges of any active resistance and
Brutus curled up in his lap. Instinctively his tongue lolled out and his eyes
half closed in content.
“Gooly wooly wants to go away. Why does gooly wooly wants
to go away?” the master began after some time.
“Do you miss Cassius? Oh you must be missing him. However
you can’t go out You can never go out .You bad, bad dog” At this point the
master had picked him up from his half dozed position holding him up at an arm’s
length. Brutus Barked in accent.
“There, there you Woogy boogy you” He was redeposit in
the warm envelope of the lap and stroked he extended his appendages and was
forced into dispensening a massive yawn.
“So where would you go Brutus. Outside, away from all
this. You, ingrate you.”
“Well there is Butch the Alsation .He is big he will eat
you he will tear your interiors out.Yes he will!Oh!Yes he will !”Brutus
wriggled like a fish as the master tickled his belly.”Yes he will he will tear
your intestines out you hoggy poggy you”
“Ok so Butch leaves you! He chases you but you escape you
get under a sofa what then chichikucchi”
Brutus is back on his feet in the upright position but by
now the fire and the lap has pushed him into a more fetal position.
“There are the three Doberman spincers Ruddy,Shila and
Matt.They will eat you up !Oh yes they will !Yes they will you lump of fur .You
fur baby! You. Plus they eat shit. Sniff each other’s butt. You want to leave
the family to be with shit eaters and ass snifers.All you animals who have a
purpose because I gave it to you. What all you be doing without me roam in the
woods without fire and food. You dirty doggy, you self hating animal. You shit.
What do you want to do room naked in the forest without a home, family and a
fire. You crazy, you mad .Plus the wolves and foxes will kill your puffy ass”
Master held him afloat and shook him like a small pillow
in mid air” There there who is a good boggy, who is a goof boy”
Master continued his lecture the Spanish Galgos hunted
rabbits, foxes his size and were full of fleas, while the sheep dogs tiring all
day in the field covered in mud, muck and nettles were more sheep than dog. The
wolves attacked the sheep dogs what would they do to you. Wolves and foxes wild
animals who never got a fire to sleep beside.
“Imagine Bujy that you left what if all of you left what
kind of a home will you be in huji one of shit, spilled intestines, muck etc
and everyone will be mean to you they will even kill you. Think on it little
devil”
…………………………………………………….
Outside Butch tried his best to extract the maximum
warmth he could from the mildly hot flue that had leaked from the few inches
that separated the door and the floor. The door was not big while butch was
large he could hardly keep his entire body from feeling the cold .He wriggled
around trying to evenly warm his large body, he shivered a little but he didn’t
cry .He was a good boy, good boys never cry. It annoys the master, who will
think that he was not a good boy. He was a former police dog and had been
trained to guard alongside human body guards. He might be the most intelligent
of the entire lot. He knew his duties always inside the house, never bark, always
alert and roam the halls but stay away from kitchen, bedrooms,bathrooms etc. Plus
always be alert for the intruders and be a good boy. He shook his head the cold
made the pain in his joints worse. The pain was getting worse. The pains in the
joints, like having crushed glass between the gap in your bones, the forbearing
of debilitating gout ,the slow crystallizing uric acid creating tough sharp
crystals, making every step a burst of debilitating pain. It was diblitatingly
painful, however he was a good boy and he didn’t stop his routine of patrolling
the house alert for the “Prowler”. He was a good boy,so when the pain increased
he shook his tail trying to wipe out the pain. However it was worse today something
other than the excruciating gout had caused him disquiets. After sometime he
decided to get up and he moved, not anywhere in particular. He had been at the
door listening to whimpers of Mr Brutus and his other acts of cute rage against
the door. He had been mildly curious at times otherwise it was nothing to
effect his concentration watching out for the “Prowler”. However now that the
house had quieted down. He could tell from smells, that everyone was where they
should have been, he dared to leave his post.. The cold night air ellavated his
pain and exhaustion since in this cold he was unable to sleep with his gout
given the anemic heat supply allowed to him.However that was not all .The smell
of that small wriggly furry worm thing pocking from between the gap separating
the door and the floor, had sparked his memories. As his pain, confusion and exhaustion
rendered any attempt to stay still or try sleeping extremely futile, he decided
to move.
He moved down to the hall to the giant door, he smelt the
huge thing he knew it was locked. Brutus was however the brightest he silently
crept behind to the servants section of the mansion .He knew the back door was
locked too, but since that door was only a thin wooden plank with sufficient force
he could bend it enough for him to be out. It was snowing outside the gout bit
him viciously in his joints, a silent howl of pain almost escaped through his
clenched teeth. He immediately cowered his ears flattening and waited his mind
going “He was a good boy but what if he is found out”. He waited, not a sound. He
knew at this time, the yard was for the Doberman. He shouldn’t be here he could
be here in the morning up to the large gate but not in the night, the Dobermans
will be out .They are going to create a ruckuses he knew them all three the
male and two bitches ,he was large enough to hazard any attack but they would wake the house
up.He was halfway back when he saw them it was the large muscular Matt.He faced
him resolutely ,however something was wrong Mutt snarled his disapproval but
that’s all he did .Butch realized immediately that the Doberman was not ok he
was old too ,he could smell but he couldn’t see. His pupils were clouding over
,the half blind big dog could hardly engage him. Butch who was about his size
and weight. The bitches much younger and smaller took the hint; they also kept
the disapproval to a little more than a snarl.
Butch simply passed them “He was a good boy after all and
what he was doing was not right but for now he was okay”. He was scared but he
had to move on. At the boundry wall separating the manor from the sheep pens he
smelt another dog, it was accompanied by a mixture of mud, sheep and other
effluents. Must be a sheep dog .Butch waited for a reaction the dog just wagged
his tail and salivated from a large protruding tongue and gave a welcome “woof”.
Butch snorted back careful to keep the volume down the
animal fled immediately.
“What was he doing he was a good dog?”His mind shouted
and screamed “You should be back inside at your place”
Butch waited his ears up for any more commotion after a
while he continued. A wolf howled out a sad solo at a distance. The Galgos hunting
dogs in their cages immediately started to bark. Butch almost ran back inside
the house. However the opera didn’t last and the Prima donna left and the Galgos
shut up. It was bitter cold and everyone was too cold to carry on with the acts
of the night. All except him thought Butch, ”But, you were a good boy”. He
sniffed at the undergrowth he picked up a scent which had got him into
reminiscing since morning. Butch had been trained to anticipate attacks before
they even happen. He was trained to pick up the good from the bad from just
their scent. He could find weapons, drugs, anything they wanted him to find
from weak traces of molecules. He also remembers the smell and could differentiate.
Now he picked up the near nonexistent trail in the undergrowth his sensitive
nose was already numb in the cold, but he persisted vehemently.
At length he reached a tree ominously standing alone in a
small patch of grass covered by a stone wall on all sides. The tree looked
ordinary to everyone just a giant old umbrella, moonlight reflecting off over
the white snow foliage. To Butch however the tree was something else. , the
tree was alive with a thousand ghosts. He could see all the smells on the
accursed tree as clear as day, he could identify each individual from their
left over smell. As if the owner long gone stood in flesh in front of him. Melancholy,
cold and the aggravated gout overwhelmed him and finally the long suppressed
howl of pain and anguish erupted out of his throat. Butch could see them all.
First his most familiar phantom was Betty his bitch, he
never knew what happened to her she was older than him. She disappeared a year
back he was after all a dog with little notion of time he never knew what
happened to her. One fine morning she was gone he tracked her to this tree and
then nothing. As if the tree had consumed Betty in a giant gulp. She was a
faithful good girl he had heard master tell her so ,so what happened to her.
The next prominent among this strange pack of dogs the shining red foxes didn’t
answer, they were skinned under the tree and their skinless remains left to rot
among the farm garbage deposited underneath. Butch was trained to dislike this
breed of canines. So were the wolves big , powerful and feral and definitely not
the good boy. Next he could smell were the Galgos. After the hunt was over and after
the last of the foxes and the wolves were skinned and the remnants just dumped
beneath the tree. Master would tie a noose around the slowest of Galgos and
hang him or her from a brunch just so that their hind legs barely touched the
ground. The thing will act like a strangely macabre malfunctioned marionette
hanging loose by only one string and trying desperately to keep moving. After
he had recognized the Dobermans, Sheepdogs who had either got a chance at the
dog puppet show or had been left beneath, or shot etc it was the turn of the
almost absent smell that brought him there to be suffocated by the conglomerate
of ghost canine. It was overwhelmed by the other large members of the curios
pack of the irreconcilable, but it was there. It was so small almost a cat size
that Butch was not sure whether it was a dog at all. It has continuously
popping a yellow river from his behind the smell was bad. It was so week it couldn’t
even move .It continuously leaked yellow green stream until it stopped ,then
birds finished his remains within the garbage at the bottom of the haunted tree.
It had the same smell of the thing that had been attacking the door in the
morning.
FIN
