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Irish pt. XXIV

By Pete Moss


I'm under the house. There's a small space that's just perfect for a little dog like me.

I can get away from the humans for a minute and chew my bone. Now why would that rat help me get this bone?

My whole breed is trained to hate and devour rats & rodents. This El Raton character has to know that. What a cheeky little bastard.

Was he taunting me? Trying to imply that my breed had lost it's drive. Devolved.

Ah well, who cares, I have a really tasty bone to gnaw on. And meanwhile ponder these humans.

I'm losing faith in humans. Talk about a race that's devolving.

I can hear them above, stomping around arguing and barking at each other. Messing around with their stupid contraptions. And yet they never seem to solve any of their problems. Things keep getting worse.

Then there's the issue of that little bitch behind the fence. How am I going to get at her?

Then I hear a skittering. I go on alert. Cock my head. I see a shape darting. It's a rat.

Of course it's a rat. I hate rats. I will kill this rat. Get it in my jaws and shake it til it's neck snaps.

I see it's beady eyes in the low light of the crawlspace.

It's approaching me. It wants my bone. It must be very hungry. Otherwise it would have better sense than to approach a fearless rat killer, descended from generations of fearless and relentless rat killers like me.

I growl. The rat already knows I'm here. I'm not giving anything away by growling.

The rat stops. It squeaks. The stupid rat is trying to say something but I can barely understand his squeaky rat talk.

"What do you want, Rat," I growl.

"It's me, El Raton," squeaks the rat.

The little stink pile isn't in the least afraid.

"Is it? Come a little closer then," I say. And the rat comes a little closer. I smell him. It does smell like El Raton.

"C'mon, you're not going to kill me. I helped you get that bone you're enjoying so much," says the rat.

Well...he's right.  "What do you want?" I say.

"I hear you have a bitch you're trying to get at," says El Raton.

"What's that to you?" I growl.

"And there's the issue of one of those fence things humans love so much."

This dogdamn rodent has entirely too much information about me.

"What of it?" I say.

" can't go through the fence.."

"Get to the point."

"So you have to go over it...or under it."

I ponder that. Stupid rat has a point.

"So do you think you can jump that fence?" says rat.

I picture the fence. No I probably can't jump it.

"So you have to go under it," says rat.

How did he know what I was thinking?

"Dogs are good at digging aren't they?" says rat.

"Of course dogs are good at digging. As a matter of fact I'm gonna bury this bone in a few minutes," I say.

"There you go," says El Raton. As he turns to leave he squeaks out, "You can thank me later."

Dig under the fence. That would actually be fun. Maybe I should go bury this bone right now and see about digging under that fence. On the other hand I could bring the bone to the bitch. That might be even better.

  Bitches like presents. I do want this bitch. I haven't actually seen her but I've smelled her and heard her. I think she's the right bitch for me. We could form a pack.

Now where did that come from? Form a pack? I've always lived with humans. I've never lived in a dog pack. But isn't that how dogs are supposed to live? In packs?

Some voice way down inside me says it is so. A dog pack. Living in a dog pack. Roaming free with other dogs like me, and my bitch. That would be something. Raising puppies that lived without humans. Puppies raised as dogs by dogs. Now I'm pretty excited.

I will bring this bone to the bitch. There's still quite a bit of marrow in it. I only chewed on it for a few minutes. She should be happy with it.

I pick up the bone and leave the crawl space. I trot down the way until I come to the fence.

"Pedro?" says the bitch. "I knew you'd be back."

"It's me. I brought you a present," I say.

"It smells lovely." she says.

"I'm going to dig under the fence and get you out." I say.

"Did I say I want to get out?"

"We're going to form a pack. Have free puppies. Born and raised without human interference."

"Oh my. Isn't that for feral dogs? I have a human who feeds me every day."

"Well anyway, you can take your time to decide but for now I'm going to dig under the fence."

"OK. Here dig over here, underneath this bush, so my human won't notice."

I trot along the fence until I find the spot then I set to digging. Then I hear a deep voice.

"Hey what're ya doin?"

I whirl around and am faced with a massive square headed pit bull.

"Hi, My name is Bruno. What're ya doin?" he repeats. I can tell this dog isn't too bright.

"Digging,"I say.

"Bruno! is that you? Bruno, you have to leave right now! You know my human is afraid of pit bulls!" says Daisy.

"It's me, Daisy," says Bruno.

"The humans call her Daisy," I think to myself.

"Bruno, you have to go or the human will call the dogcatcher," says Daisy, urgently.

"That's no fair," says Bruno.

Then there's a human voice.

"I have to go," says Daisy. "You guys should go as well."

OK, tonight’s adventure has come to a close.

I'm trotting up the alley and Bruno hasn't shown any sign of heading his own way. He hasn't tried to take my bone. Maybe he's alright. Although he sure looks like a mean old fighting dog.

"You guys are forming a pack?" says Bruno.

"Where you heard that?"

"On the pee mail," says Bruno.

"Yeah, well....we'll see."

"I want to join your pack," says Bruno.

"What about your human?"

"I don't have a human." says Bruno.

Bruno seems like a decent dog. Maybe I could let him stay under the house while I figure out this forming a dog pack thing.