by A R Dent
‘Where did you come from? You are a pup so just answer me,’ a strong growly voice said.
I look around and a huge Doberman is standing behind me.
‘I live down the street. I just jumped over the gate and got out for a free run. I will be going back tonight before midnight. I have to talk to Fromoth the Tawny Frogmouth after she has had her breakfast. My name is Oscar and I want to write a story about being a serious adult dog.’
‘Well, this part of town is owned by me. Only dogs that I give permission to are allowed here. I have not given you permission nor will I. Go away or I will bite your head off and feed your body to the wild rats. The centre of town is mine. Go down to the railway line, turn left, and ask for Benny. Benny lets any dog go to his area if they have a song to sing or a poem to recite. The railway tracks are down that street. Go - before I feed you to the rats,’ said the Doberman.
How long is the street? It seems to go on forever. There is a nice smell. It’s food from a restaurant and a back door. I am looking inside the door - a kitchen and people running around - someone is calling out. I wonder if I farted would I get their attention - 'phooft' - no - no response - oh well - best if I leave them - I think they ignore the needs of the hungry.
Here we are - the railway tracks.
‘Excuse me - I am looking for Benny. Do you know where I can find Benny - hello - could you tell me where Benny is?’ I ask all the dogs around.
‘Benny is not to be found by anyone but if you find him do not tell anyone because then they will know Benny does not exist,’ a small Pomeranian spoke to me as though it is the greatest secret on earth. ‘I suggest you go home and find Benny there, every dog that comes down here has been speaking to the dopey Doberman who has a problem with ownership. He is a stray dog that believes he owns the town area. Dopey Doberman tells dogs to come down here to find Benny for many different reasons. He once told one dog that Benny would find a way to paradise though self-revelation. We laughed because we know; nobody finds themself after the Doberman speaks to them. They become as silly as him.’
The advice of the Pomeranian seems so true. As I turn for home, I notice a group of dogs gathered and speaking. This will be interesting.
The first dog is arguing for more posts to piddle on. Now the dog is finished. Oh, another dog wants to argue too. The second dog argues for more trees to shelter under. The second dog is finished. Another dog wants to argue. The third dog argues for less dogs on the planet leaving more natural resources for those dogs here now. I am about to ask if I could also argue too when a small nuggetty dog sidles up and says...
‘This is a Private Soap Box venue - no other opinions allowed here by other dogs but you can listen to what is said. I suggest you move on if you want to have an opinion here in this part of town.’
I ask if they argue all night.
‘They argue the same words all the time. No discussions, no right-of-reply, no other opinions allowed either by other dogs.’
To this I am now scared. A place in town where I cannot express my opinion of what I believe? Me, a dog of such vast wisdom, once removed, from Fromoth. I turn away from them. I am now running along the road back to the town where Doberman was and there in a doorway is a large cat. I am looking at the cat when I decide to just slowly move on and let the day end where I challenge every big cat in town.
If I have to, I will defend. I do not want to fight for the sake of a victory. I eye the cat - the cat is up arching its back and showing its fangs. I continue until the cat slowly gets back down.... phew - that was a close one - I continue towards the statue and ask nothing of anyone and think and decide - I can and I will - it is something about the craziness in this world that somehow, somehow, I know somehow I could leave this craziness to be a writer. What it is: craziness is needed to understand craziness. Am I crazy too because I see these dogs, who imagine things, as crazy. Maybe that is what Life is. A little bit of craziness in us, all so that we can all be a little bit crazy together. Nah. Those dogs are crazy but I am simply only a drongo dog who can jump over gates. I am walking in the gutter now - low profile, difficult to be seen. I feel like I am a warrior dog going along on a secret mission to blow up a town with a - hello - hello - guess what I forgot - turn around Oscar - turn around - turn around and go up on the hill overlooking the railway tracks.
I am running up the hill - running and fall down exhausted. Eventually I am on top of the hill exhausted. I slowly walk to where I can look down and see the railway tracks. I slowly turn my body until my Flatulator is aimed directly at the crazy dogs who are arguing. Concentrate five senses - think harmonics - resonate a symphony of five senses in a single blast of my Flatulator and - thringing, thronging, harpsicordance and bass guitar with violins with a thought of burnt crispy bacon and throwwwww it at em - a huge Galactic Flatulation.
No Air-Quake - I felt it - it was superb - now go down and inspect what I just let go at - I let go of being ordinary. I go back to the streets without names and dogs without owners. There is the cat - no problems there - the dogs arguing - where are they? There they are - hello hello - they are just standing and looking at each other.
The small nuggetty dog idles over to me and says - ‘Something happened - they stopped arguing and all of them are now like stunned mullets - they saw each other's point of view and stopped arguing and now they have nothing to do because all they could do before was argue.’
I am moving on very quickly and heading for home to talk to Fromoth about all of this. It is crazy or I am going crazy. One of the two. Maybe I think of nothing until I get home. Maybe it is good to have a little bit of craziness inside me but what about that Galactic Flatulation - more than just ripping out a fart to tell the humans I wanted to go out of the house. A Galactic Flatulation soon, at an outlet near to you. Maybe that is what the Travelling Terrestrials want - a perfect Flatulation to be imbibed into dogs later after the Galactic Year Celebrations. Yikes - it is only two weeks to go and I still have got nowhere in my writings and Calliope said she would help me. I suppose if I do a few of the things Calliope wants, search inwards. Do I do anything wrong? Nope, nothing, zilch. So why do I need to search inwardly? I am the perfect half Poodle cross Australian Terrier and so loved by everyone - except Slim Lips. Slim Lips pretends she loves me. Escere has said she will get me inside the house. Search and Destroy,that is my mission. Oh, my house, home so soon and the gate has to be there. I have to do it again - the same or better as I leap as high as I can and grab the top of the gate with my front legs... run, run, straight at it and low down and then leap. Up and up I go and flop. On the ground outside and still locked out. I trusted my abilities and failed. Back to the front fence. Turn around and stare at the gate - and in my peripheral vision I see a box near the gate. No. How will I put the box back after I get on the other side of the gate? Back to staring at the gate: my run up has to be more powerful, I need stronger lift off. I need to go inside my heart and soul. The gate is looking lower in height. I look at my run up. I look at the top of the gate. I look back and I feel an inner urge to run at the gate and from low down, from the ground, spring up into the air like the birds leave the ground. Away I go and up. My both front paws are over the top and my back legs are scratching at the wire and my head pushes down on the gate and wwoooooooo - over I go and flop. Done. I now note my abilities as one who saw impossibilities as now being possible. No one will ever know but I do and that is important for a puppy growing out of puppy thoughts. Do all adult dogs think this way?
Maybe I can do something about Slim Lips but not as a puppy but as an adult dog without training wheels attached.
‘And where have you been? I have been waiting for a long time for you to discuss your writings,’ Fromoth asked me as I walked into the backyard.
‘Fromoth, you would never believe what I experienced tonight. It was so different when I went down town on my own at night. Down in the town at night is about another life for dogs and I saw a huge cat and walked past a
s though it was nothing. Fromoth, I also did a perfect Galactic Flatulation and some dogs froze as though they never saw another opinion but they did tonight.’
‘Very interesting Oscar, let me read the story you wrote. Thalia called in giggling again and said you can transfer the Thought doc. via the Thought Translator. She said you know about it.’
‘Fromoth, I did not know Thalia had downloaded it into me. Maybe she already had and now it is activated. Perhaps if we use the principle of the Thought Transference that was used when I went to meet H-o-G. Close your eyes and think transference of the Thought doc. into your programming and think - done. Did you feel that? A zeeeep went through me and I felt it leave.’
‘Yes I felt it. Leave me for a while and I will digest it.’
‘Fromoth, can I ask you a question please?’
‘Yes Oscar, you can. However, what I suggest is that you use correct words. If you are to write Oscar, then you should use correct words during the day. What about if you ask me “may I ask”, that way I will know what you mean.’
‘Fromoth, may I ask you a question?’
‘Yes Oscar, you may. What is your question?’
‘Fromoth, you are a night bird and awake during the night - does the night ever get scary for you? Do you ever get scared because of the dark?’
‘Oscar, darkness is the domain of a night bird. We have eyes different to day birds. We also know that some animals use darkness to hide from daytime animals and this gives us night birds food because we see them as though it is daylight. However, about getting scared - never. Oscar, did you get scared tonight?’
‘No, not really but it was scary.’
‘Oscar, it was not the night but the situations you put yourself into. You are recognising danger Oscar. It is a sign Oscar. A sign of maturity and being aware is very good. It is at this point in your life you can make decisions based on your new maturity. Oscar, I remember when I first left the nest and made my wings work for the first time. I had to learn very fast where I could fly and not fly. Danger in the world is for all. My parent birds taught me what the danger was. That way I could learn to find food and watch for danger. Are you admitting your puppiness is going Oscar? Do we expect another Oscar soon? One who recognises his own abilities and sees other's abilities to help or hinder in life?’
‘Fromoth, I cannot answer that. I know nothing. I am very confused after going into town at night. Dogs are different at night in the town. Cats are different too and the shop with food smells at its back door that doesn’t give a rats about the hungry. Life is different at night. I’ve had a protected life with me just running free and playing but the life of animals who say things like ‘Ask for Benny’ or ‘I will bite your head off and feed you to the rats’ - they were weird and I don’t want to be like that. Fromoth, if you don’t mind, I will sleep for a while. Would you wake me before the moon is at its zenith please?’
‘Oscar - you will now be given all the help you need but as said before - 'It is for you to do it’ - the full moon is approaching fast - and Thalia has got her story finished so it is up to you now,’ Calliope said.
‘Oscar, I have read this story. It is good but not good enough. Oscar, go and lay down - rest - think about what happened tonight and work out how to write it so that it includes all that you said to me about how it affected you. Don’t just write facts only. Also write about how it affected you and how it was weird and scary ... oh... and Oscar, do I get a signed copy of the first draft? Do it Oscar, do it.’
Gulp, oh oh - what did I do tonight? Am I an adult dog or going into a metamorphism of change? What is happening to me? What is going on in my brain and body? It is as if my brain is changing. What else is there? Maybe I write something about change of life. Oh, the change of life and the new me. Since I can remember, nothing has remained the same. All I can remember is change. Change is the only constant when you buy something or something like that.
~~~
Chapter Six Change is happening fast.
Fromoth told me to rest. Fromoth told me to write. I think I rest first if only with my body. Maybe I recount the times I tried to fart a soft pfooft and it came out a loud explosion like a thunderclap announcing a storm. These times are like that now. Something is happening - that is in my knowing. Where do I live? Whom do I live with? Whom do I write about or do I write of a fiction-like character based on Slim Lips or Skinny Man or Jack? My life is uninteresting but it could be a way of learning to write if I write about something I know.
‘The day started with a bang. A thunderstorm rolled in from the coast towards Biloela from Gladstone. Storm clouds announced the change of the hot dry week and the big wet was soon to appear. A dog appeared on a hill to challenge the summer storms, the norm in Queensland summers, and saw a chance to change the seasons with a huge Galactic Flatulation.’ Nahhhhhhhhhhh - rubbish - only sixty four words - no one wants to read about Galactic Flatulations and storms - or would they - some people might be fascinated by the odd fart or two by a dog - ooooooohhhhhhh start again'
‘Expectation, the greatest dog to live beyond ‘the great divide' ran to his master the morning of the earthquake. The dam was near empty, a lightning strike had created a bush fire and someone had to get help from the nearest farm. Expectation barked and barked whilst he pretended to be running towards the fence that joined onto the Elliott's property. Then he ran towards the fire and swiftly side stepped the flames and in a breathtaking leap went over the fence, and continued to the Elliott's farmhouse and barked until Tom Elliott ran to him.
‘What are you telling me Expectation? Where is your devoted master? Does he need saving? I will go the long way with my truck and you can ride in the front cabin with me.’
The journey took forever and then when Tom Elliott with Expectation arrived Tom and Bill fought the fire with special hoses...but Expectation aimed his Flatulator and fired one Galactic Flatulation at the fire.. the fire reduced sufficiently for the two men to douse the fire with what water they had left and saved the homestead.’
Nnaaaaaaaaah more rubbish ------- nuh nuh nuh - what a load of rubbish - cannot write -- not creative enough - try again Oscar - the first sentence was given by the Governor to the convicts - Two eye lashes per Convict ---- nuh - there is no story in convicts and the first governor - what can I write about ----- 186 words - getting better - wwoooooo
‘Oscar, you are writing beautifully so write about what is in your heart and soul. Do it Oscar - do it - the full moon is almost here Oscar. Clio asked for you to include minimal history on your first story to be published,’ Calliope said.
Published? Nothing like putting a dog under pressure, and asking to me to write beautifully, at the same. I feel exhausted.
‘Good night puter. Good night Fromoth’.
‘Good night Oscar, dream your story Oscar. Ask the dream fairy to give you a dream.’
‘Dream fairy, may I have a dreeeeaaaam.’....
~~~
Oh, the sun is up and the rain has stopped. The sun never sets, as it is solid matter without any night. It is daylight. Oh - where do words come from? I just made that up. Perhaps I do have a knowing - I, Oscar am a Sage. Oh - this is interesting.
‘Oscar, write about a dog and give the dog a name. Then apply one day or part of that day in that fictitious dog's life and write that. You have nothing else to write about. Think about it Oscar.’ Calliope said.
First - I am thirsty and want to stretch my legs. Ah - drinking from this fantastic new shiny metal bucket - gulp gulp gulp - and now - see how fast I can run to the chook shed and scare the chooks - run run run and now turn fast and slide ---- right into the side of the chicken shed and woooooooooo - oh wah - oh wah - I made a hole in the wire---
‘OSCAR - COME HERE’
That is Jack's voice shouting at me. Why is he awake so early?
‘Get away from the chooks Oscar. If mum sees what you have done, she will go off the handle again. You don't get it Oscar, you are a drongo d
og and don't understand my mum.’
Jack has tied me up again while he fixes the wire for the chicken shed to keep the chooks inside.
‘Oscar - you got out and run down the street last night. Mum's friend Eileen rang her and told her she tried to pick you up but you snarled at her and ran away into the dark. Mum went right off Oscar. I dunno what I can do to keep you. Mum is getting more reactive. Perhaps if we chain you up and let you have a long lead to roam around until you get out of the puppy stage. That is what dad thinks... I have fixed the wire Oscar but let it be a warning if mum comes out in a fit of rage today.’
My Thought Translator is working - I will try sending Jack a message...
‘Jack, this is Oscar thinking. Jack do what you have to do to get into the cricket team, and I will behave myself.’
