It's All About Trust

by A R Dent

  ‘Oscar, well done. We got through the Ionosphere. Take a breath Oscar – NO – you do not need to breathe. Just relax Oscar. Down there is Earth where you just left. We are now going to meet Head of Galaxy. Now we all think together - The Great White Hole that no one knows exists.’

  I am as stunned as a mullet being hit with a brick. This place is a like a huge white kennel. Oh, it has changed into a big open space... I might just lie down and sleep until the fireworks finish. It is like a huge white room in the void of dark space. I can’t see a thing but I know it is happening. Weird. Nothing like it is in the movies I saw at my previous owner's house. So - unreal - I am shaking in my boots which I never owned.

  ‘Yes Oscar, the Great White Hole in The Milky Way is disguised for humans not to know it is here. There are sounds which tantalise your nose and smell. Open your eyes Oscar and see what crispy burnt bacon sounds like. In a moment, Oscar the sound will convey all five of your senses. One sound produces the feelings, the smells, the sight of, the sound of, and the tastes of.... each sound is what you are made of Oscar... energy, you are now pure energy,’ Thalia said.

  ‘I think this is ridiculous, whoever wants to be a dog that is full of energy?’

  ‘Bring Canine 127 to me now,’ speaks Head of Galaxy ‘and let him enjoy our energies of the future.’

  ‘Oh dear, not another Slim Lips.’

  ‘Oscar - be respectful to Head of Galaxy and do as he wants.’ Calliope said.

  There is more tingling in me. I feel weird. I cannot see a thing but know that what I am seeing as though it is right in front of me. There are colours but where are they? The smells that are in my nostrils overwhelm me and this sound that I have never heard or can describe. I think this is going a bit far to help me fit into society.

  ‘Oscar, you are going before Saggis, Head of Galaxies. Silence and listen.’ Thalia whispers.

  ‘Canine 127,’ Saggis speaks, ‘You have been found guilty of disrespect of humour and wanting to use Pay Back. You have not been given Gifts to offend or for your own personal evil. You are learning Canine 127 - learning. The fact we have a timeframe to work to has me considering using your own humour to punish you. The Sea Eagles soar. The Platypus plays. Foolish dogs whimper. I have decided your fate. A change of destiny awaits but you will do as the program in you directs. No longer will you be as human fools who search for wisdom or knowledge. You will be the first Canine to be given Sage status and as such will have to live according to the code of Sagerism. You are to be given instructions and a new program. Based on the Grecian person who was known as Plato and based on many humans I sent to Earth who were never known to be fools and always had a knowing... you, Oscar Canine 127, will be given duality gifts of a Philosopher/Sage. It is for you to love and pursue knowledge but within your duality will have it as a Sage. Your knowing is to compensate for your ignorance of your puppiness. When you return to Earth, you will obey what each Muse instructs you. Your purpose will be fulfilled. In a flash of a Neutronal Time Unit you will be inserted here before me and I will decide which extra modules are needed. Sophos, instruct the Galactic Surgeons to disseminate the colour spectrum and place one Violet and one Aqua into Oscar Canine 127.’

  Woops - I am so nervous - I just did a Galactic fart. The fart echoes through the White Hole and the sounds of Flutes, Cymbals and a Bass Guitar resonate with resemblance to looking at burnt bacon.

  Saggis, Head of Galaxy, smiles as he says ‘You thought a fart would take the focus off the subject we are discussing. Well Canine 127 this is what is called a Galactic Flatulation.’

  Saggis mimics my fart with a highly tuned Galactic Flatulation which has the sweetness of a Sweet Pea and the sounds of one thousand violins and the thunder of Thor.

  Saggis then raises his sceptre for silence and speaks with authority, ‘From this moment Oscar is given the title of - The Most High Sage of a Dog. Oscar is no longer a fool who loves to search for wisdom or burnt bacon. Oscar is enlightened which means he will not have to suffer as a Philosopher searching for enlightenment and meanings of life. Oscar will have a knowing, and in his knowing he will know when crispy burnt bacon will appear. Oscar will not have to beg or speak evil. His knowing will be recognised but only one human will communicate to you Canine 127. It will be conditional. Your assignment will be fulfilled but the difficulty is up to you. One act of evil. One act of selfishness when wisdom and prudence is required and one gift at a time will be removed until you learn. A duality of a dichotomy and your acceptance will see us together for your report. From now on, you will be brought to me when I summon. Canine 127, do you agree to your destiny?’

  ‘Saggis, Head of Galaxy, can I ask a question.’

  ‘Canine 127, what is your question?’

  ‘Saggis, Sophos is wise, and I a young pup that knows nothing yet I know all. I don’t understand.’

  ‘Canine 127, your duality of your own dichotomy is your problem. It is part of your punishment and plans. You will live as a Sage that has no need to seek wisdom. Your selfishness is like the humans who seek to be wise because they are fools. Only fools seek wisdom. The Sage already possesses wisdom and therefore utilises it for prudential judgments and applications.’

  ‘Yes Saggis, Head of Galaxy, I agree.’

  ‘I, Head of Galaxy, instruct you to write a five hundred word essay on 'Ocker Oscar - Canine 127; Fitting Into Society'. I assign one period of full moon to full moon for you to accomplish this. Time is running out and if you do not do this by the next full moon to full moon period then the Patagonian Toothless Dog in Laplapland will be the canine to do it. She is near completion to take over the role of writing the dissertation.

  This will all coincide before the return of the 230 Million human year: The Galactic Year to the planet Earth. All the animals are being prepared for the coming celebrations and read as follows; Directive 3,452; Unless something changes, the celebrations will commence when Serena the white bellied sea eagle flies from the centre of The Milky Way followed by her eaglets behind her and the oration from you Ocker Oscar/Canine 127 of your five hundred word Short Story.

  That is all. We have finished before the allotted time and I will summon you when I decide. Sophos, what is the result of the implants of the colours?’

  ‘The violet and the turquoise are the most suited. Although there is a small amount of purple included. Canine 127 will experience a Purple Patch before the Turquoise and the Violet appear in his life. I am finished Saggis. Is there an energy present who would like to give Canine 127 a special vibration farewell?’

  ‘I am but a poor energy that no one loves,’ cried an energy I cannot see. ‘If Ocker Oscar cries out again 'poor me' when he does not get his own way, I suggest we all give a Galactic Flatulation into his ears. Then he will know we can hear his thoughts.’

  ‘Said and done. I will return now for another meeting of The Milky Way Council.’

  I feel his energy leave. I cannot see him but I certainly feel his presence. Oh, here we go again. Presence and presents. Oh - now I get it - they are different words.’

  ‘Oscar, close eyes and exhale. All hug together and think we are going to the outer rim of Earth.’ Thalia said.

  Hello, I am looking down and I know exactly where my beautiful backyard is. I am out in space and floating.

  ‘Oscar, we are now going to be travelling at rocket speed back into earth's atmosphere. We will cover your eyes so that you cannot see the earth. The last animal, a duck, died from fright when it saw the earth appearing so fast. Close eyes and feel the wind over your energy. Your energy is solid matter Oscar.’

  ‘Wake up Oscar. Wake up. You have been asleep in the back shed today. Oscar, how do you feel? Would you like some burnt bacon?’ Calliope said.

  ‘Calliope, I am full as a butcher's dog right now. Thank you for offering. I will get more bacon soon when the family next eats it, so I will accept whatever is thrown down on the plate for me.’

  ‘Lovely Oscar. You just go
back to sleep for a whole night and we will see you when we see you.’

  ~~~

  Chapter Three - Becoming a writer.

  On this morning I affirm I am a puppy being led down a garden path into an abyss of words. I’ve been had, conned, manipulated into believing that becoming an adult dog is an easy path to tread. 'Write a book Oscar' I was told. Write a five hundred word story Oscar of 'fitting into society' I was told. I am a puppy on a lead like a marionette puppet with strings attached. I am being pulled in every direction, but nowhere I want to go.

  I need to get out of this house when the back door is opened and away from Cat and the strangest family, I am now living with. How indignant it is to live with such riff raff drongos and below my standing as a dog of re-known. I have to re-think my abilities as a pup in a strange land. I am a dog, a pup in transition and now I am told I am not allowed to hate people who what where when they want me to just sit here in a backyard with nothing to give me the excitements promised me. I have endured a trip to some fantasy rubbish. Was it real? Was it in my sleep and I just slept like a log that I imagined a huge Galactic fart. I have to decide what is real and what it is I dream. I once dreamed I killed a cat. Me, killing a cat? I have never thought of harming a flea. Well I did let my owner flea me once but she did the killing - not me. I think it was yesterday I dreamed of killing a cat. I have so many doggy naps I forget when I dream. When does a dream become reality? I think people just say that - they say that they dreamed it after it happens. Nothing in real life says it is going to happen before it does. It is impossible to say it will happen because you dreamed it. I need to think this out what I need to do in this weirdos house of fleas and blue tongue lizards. The people are nice but strewth, the whole idea of growing up is scary. Perhaps I just let bygones be bygones and let Slim Lips get used to the idea I have moved in.

  Oh, here we go, Jack is awake, I just heard the toilet flush with his distinctive thump thump of his feet. Oh, this tail of mine - it will never stop wagging when I first see him. Oh, hi Jack - let me out - quick - let me run run and play - oh it is good to have a friend to let me out the back door at first light. Even the birds are still asleep. Oh - not all birds -- there is a night bird there still on the fence, Oh oh - that big white fat cat again - it is stalking a night bird. It is going to kill it. Oh oh - back into Terrier mode and Defender of the Faithless and Gullible. Oh - quick it has a bird like an owl in its mouth but the night bird is too big for the cat. I run, run, run, and pick up the cat by the throat. I have it - I bite harder - bite harder Oscar I am saying to myself. I am biting as hard as I can - panic - the huge cat is squirming and I am using my jaws that crumble up crunchy bacon. I feel the cat go limp - letting the blood flow out of his throat - I feel life drain away onto the red stained earth. Oh - I am drained. What have I done? I have killed something - a cat - I drop the lifeless cat and out of its mouth, a huge owl-like bird is released.

  I sit and lick the bird back to life.

  The owl-like bird is injured and needs resuscitation. It is in shock and its body organs are shutting down. I lick it all over and lie around the bird to reassure it to breathe in as I breathe - its head is now in my mouth sucking the air I force into the space called its beak. Slowly eyes open and breathing steadies. I have been attacked by the same monster white cat and so has this night bird and we have both survived.

  ‘Thank you dog. You are my hero. I am indebted to you. I have to be your guardian for the rest of my life now that you have spared me from the clutches of death and delivered me,’ the bird said.

  ‘Owl, I am not a hero you have to serve. What about we settle for lifelong friendship? Owl, what is your name?’

  ‘My name is Fromoth. Short for frog mouth. I am a tawny frogmouth.... I am not a true owl. I have been given special gifts from a spirit but I haven’t seen her since she pronounced my name correctly. Her name is Thalia. She said I had wisdom beyond any other creature on earth. I expect to be given more gifts but it is at least a week of full moons and I have not heard from her.’

  ‘I have a friend and her name is Thalia but she is not nice. She is making me do something only an adult dog would be expected to do.’

  ‘Well, if we both have friends with the same name, it might be, it is the same spirit guide. And what is your name kind dog?’

  ‘Oscar, you can call me Ocker if you want. It is a dual name I have.’

  ‘Ocker Oscar, do you have a destiny? Have you had any explaining what your purpose in life is?’

  ‘I have been told I am a sage. A sage is one who has knowing. Is that a destiny?’

  ‘Sort of, a destiny means you are on the planet for a reason and a season. Some people who have a destiny forego their role and lose out on life. It is an honour to have a destiny but with the honour comes incredible responsibilities. Many times a person has to do things they do not want to do. Some creatures even save a hopeless tawny frogmouth from a savage beast-like cat.’

  ‘Fromoth, I am feeling giddy in the head. I have to sleep for a while. Do you have somewhere to live near here? We can meet again soon.’

  ‘Ocker Oscar, my destiny is to serve the dog that saves me. That is what Thalia told me many full moons ago. If I can give you some wisdom then you may use it to save yourself one day. I will sleep up high in that building beyond the gate. I sleep during the day but it is my honour to wake when you want or need me.’

  I watch Fromoth fly into the garage where I sat in the van with Funny Hair and cat singing together. I am feeling tired and exhausted and not feeling well. The grass is soft and dry. I slowly let my back legs stretch out behind me and my front legs extend and as I turn on my side I am nearly........

  ‘Oscar, Oscar.’ Jack is calling me. ‘Oscar, you look like a sav pulled through a drain pipe, what is wrong mate, oh dear - the feral cat is dead -- MUM - come here quick - Oscar killed the feral cat you hate - mum - quick - mum, look at the dead cat - Oscar has blood all around his mouth - the hose - I will get the hose and clean him up mum,’

  ‘Look, the feral cat I hated - but Oscar killing him is another thing. We don’t want a vicious dog in our house. All right, clean him up and keep him in the backyard. Next, he will be killing Penny's cat on the white carpet in the lounge room. Keep cat inside the house and Oscar outside in the shed at night,’ Thin Lips said.

  I now know the meaning of being misunderstood.

  I lay here wondering about life and what to write about. Is it that life is something no one can describe? I heard about the word love once. Is life like love or is it more solid than that. As I ponder these words a thought enters my mind - it is like they are not my word thoughts but someone else's word thoughts --- 'Even owls and tawny frogmouths have to learn wisdom - wisdom is the by-product of failures. Birds are forced to leave the nest by the parents biting at their feet to let go. To let go of the security of the nest is scary. All for the purpose of the young chic to know - to know that they can fly - it takes a lot of trust to let go so that you can discover your own abilities - let go Oscar - let go.'

  Am I going mad, insane, a voice giving me instructions? Oh, this is just fine. Me a pup and expected to let go - all right then - whenever I feel afraid I will attempt to equal the perfect Galactic Flatulation and send ripples of ecstatic energy into the clouds. Done. Oh dear - I have to write and I am banished into Jack and Penny's shed. Just laying here brings back tears of the loneliness after being rejected. Oh, as I sit, wonder, and think of the tenderness that Jack displayed when he cleaned the blood off me. Hah - I think a thought - it occurs to me that I could write a story of things going on in my life. Perhaps words to describe where I live ---- “The grass I walk on - the mown grass - The feelings of sunken treasures - of bones unseen - the past delights of canines - dogs of dubious fame - bones buried for me to claim.” This is better but it is not a Story. A story? What do I write about that is interesting. Oh, and who would bother to read of my dilemmas? I am as interesting as a flea in an ear - present and worry-
some and irritating. Perhaps I write and define loneliness and being rejected? I could write about Slim Lips and all her secrets. She has many secrets. I heard her mumbling about her 'younger days' of being a wild girl who feared no one and had a life roaming the world doing as she pleased. If I was allowed in the house, I could slowly write about her. Or Jack - about his cricket. Maybe write about the whole family or their mother, who yells all day. Oh - I wonder the thunder of a Galactic Fart in a valley with hills around and the echo it would produce.

  The Perfect Galactic Fart - a book in print which has a story of a family needing a good shake up. It could resonate, identify with maybe two readers - maybe three readers - my three friends might buy my book - sort of 'Rent a Reader'. A Story by Ocker Oscar - yes.

  ‘Write Oscar write,’ Calliope said.

  “Once upon a time there lived a wicked dog. So evil even his back teeth rattled when he produced a Galactic Fart. One day he saw a woman who was about to be carried into the heavens when a willy willy was about to pick her and her baby up and whisk her away. Oscar turned and aimed his Flatulator Producer at the willy willy and let go. Oscar let go of his fear of willy willy winds and the thunder and vibrations knocked the woman and baby to the ground and saved the woman and baby from the willy willy.”

  Yes,yes, yes, I can write. But still it is not good enough - yet. If only I could be left alone in my solitude and make up a strange and funny story. I will lay my head down and rest more. Being a hero saving a Tawny Frogmouth from the wild cat has taken its toll on my energy reserves. What I really need is half a sausage roll, some burnt crispy bacon, and some milk. There is one chance of this happening. I access all my energy reserves and walk to the back steps. I place my head onto the fly screen looking inside at Slim Lips and stare at her. Slim Lips - I think as I stare - I did as you bid - I got rid of the wild feral cat - rewards Slim Lips - rewards - and I project this thought toward her continually.

  ‘Jack, come here Jack, take these out to Oscar please. It saves putting them into the rubbish bin and garbage guts will eat anything. He can eat the left over lamb that has gone off. We can't eat it but he will.’