It's All About Trust

by A R Dent

  'Fitting into Society'

  One day a long time ago there lived a man called Plato who owned a dog. His dog's name was 'Sophos' who knew everything and the day arrived for Sophos to leave Plato to go on a journey across the land to discover the different Archetypes of dogs. He told Plato of his desires, Plato bid his dog farewell, and Sophos commenced his journey. On day one, Sophos met a Daschund who complained about his height and how he could not see very far. At first Sophos noted on his tablet of stone of the Daschund as being a lowly type of dog and he was restricted in the vision of hope. The next day Sophos erased what he wrote and re- wrote his comments. 'Daschund dogs are cheerful happy dogs that have the benefit of their life to be sight challenged due to their height. Nah, story not going anywhere.

  ‘I love it Oscar - I love it - go further into their emotions and write of the different dogs - go for it Oscar - I am getting tears in my eyes thinking of the potential of your storyline.’ Calliope said.

  ‘Do you Calliope?’

  ‘Yes Oscar, somehow you are maturing as a writer so let it all hang out and write your story tomorrow. Sleep on it and let your creative-self inside you write it first in your brain. Trust the writing process Oscar.’

  My storyline? I did not know I had a storyline. Well, I do not know a lot about different dogs except those I run around with at the oval. They are all different and their attitudes are different too. I could research the Aussie Terrier that lives up the street a bit more. If I had time that is. I like her. I remember the first time I went to the park and Jack was talking to her owner. Woo - that was a strong gust of wind. The roof shook. I hope Fromoth is safe and she can fly home safe. The chooks, how are the chooks? I dare not go outside but the chooks have cover but the wind is strong. This is a reason to shut down puter and see if I can rest. We might be in for a storm and a half and Slim Lips is not well. I will go out, check the chooks, and see how they are. The wind is getting stronger. All ok here. The yard needs cleaning up because of little bits of trees on the ground and oh – there is the long sand pit. I love putting my paw prints in a pattern in the sand. I stand and look back at my own paw prints in the sand.

  ‘Oscar, have you ever thought of never placing your paws in your own paw prints’? Calliope said.

  ‘Huh? That thought was exactly what I was thinking Calliope. How did you know my thoughts’?

  Back to my shelter and lay down.

  Good night puter. Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

  ~~~

  Good morning Puter.... the wind has abated.. the clouds are dark.. the sun is not to be felt and my thoughts are with the Aussie Terrier up the road. If I jumped the gate and sneaked up the road, I could interview her for my story. It is very early and she might be an inside dog and has not been let out for her run yet. I will go for my morning check of the yard. Yep, the yard is the same, chooks are chuckling, one of them has laid an egg and cackling away. The fence looks bare. The snakes have gone. Fromoth has caught and eaten the small mice. There are sticks all over the yard from the trees and there in the corner is my bone. I forgot to bury it. Oh, it smells great and now to focus on the end section. Jaw around it, front paws over and under, keep it steady, and 'chomp chomp'. These little treats can make a great start to a morning. I so much like being an outside dog and can roam around defending the yard from all invaders and be like Ulysses and be cunning in my warrior state.

  The day is good and I will rest a bit more and think about one final attempt at my story......a few bits of crunchy burnt bacon would be nice - and a saucer of milk but I can't have everything - yet. Maybe I set the vision and if it happens, it happens.

  Jack is different today. He brought out food for me and mumbled something about things looking grim. He was just about to put my food down and he noticed my tail wagging. I sit here and think how he was almost not here in his mind, as though I was not his dog. But then, he said something about my tail wagging makes him feel happy at the start of his day. I got a tear in my eye after he said that. I am still sitting here thinking about what he said. I think Jack made my morning noticing my tail wagging.

  There is now a different feeling today in this yard. Something has changed and I don’t think it’s me. Slim Lips, (woops) Betty has been out the back and put some clothes on the clothesline, walked over to me, sat, and patted me. This has never happened before. Betty is in a daze. Her face is plain like. Maybe Betty did not sleep well and we have not noticed the pressure she is under with Jack. It must take its toll on a mother seeing her young leaving the nest. Birds force their young out of the nest but humans seem to prolong the event.

  I have an idea - my hung down look - - the back door - maybe I can get inside for a some milk or bacon ---- the back door is open but screen door is shut - sit on the step - and whimper loud -- whmmmmpp whmmmpp - again and again.

  ‘Oh Oscar, you are there and what is the problem?’

  I hang my head low. Take my eyes off her and then look at her again.

  ‘Ok, but only if you behave - come inside before I go nuts.’

  Got her - it works a treat but I cannot use it all the time - under the table and stop - right in the middle where there are no legs. Escere is staring at me.

  ‘How did you get in baby?’

  Escere is glaring at me. I think she has a jealous streak. Cats get jealous. So I ignore her. Jack has appeared and I can feel his hand reaching under the table.

  ‘Mum, did you let Oscar in?’

  ‘Yes Jack I did, and he is only in until you go to school. When you come home I want you to try the Dog Obedience as it is on the DVD I got you. I bought the special check chain and a new leash and the man from the council said he must be always on the lead unless he is at the off-lead park. And, take Oscar down to the park if Penny and her friend up the road will hold him whilst the coach is there. If Oscar plays up Penny will bring him home’ Betty said.

  Yes - yes - yes - I am back in town - back in the life of Penny and her friend who happens to own an Australian Terrier. I can interview all the dogs at the park. Yes - woooohhoooooo. Now, Escere had a plan but I don't think it will be necessary now. I am back on top of the pecking order. Plan, execute and let it happen. Now, how can I get Escere back out of my life. I hate cats. How can I get myself back on track? So many interruptions to a formidable dog, such as myself but not too many interruptions now thank you. Now I simply type this Short Story and everything is hunky dory. As simple as pouring milk down a drain pipe and letting the words flow from my creativity - huh? Dunno why there is concern from the Travelling Terrestrials. Now first we dispense with previous advice and write from experiences of life. Where is my writing tablet? Maybe I can write about my adventures in a tent producing the best Galactic Fart. Oh, I wonder a good fart in a tent - what a tense story that would be - yep - entry onto Clipboard - a writer's fest awaits me but first let me dispense with this formality of a five hundred-word short story that will blow the hat off a Milliner. Ah, the storyline is - ah - I forget it. Maybe write another story, about selling dog food to cats or about the Flight of The Humble Fleas on a Hunchback Cat. So many titles I could use. I need a Plot - a dog goes on a journey to discover he is not a dog but a wolf. A wolf in dog's clothing, now that would scatter the sheep if the farmer was away with the fairies on a day of the full moon. Nah, that is not a Plot. What about a plot of soil where a dog buried a bone and a dog passing by discovered it?

  Nah - I need a solid Premise - just like Socrates said. A few Premises thrown in and out of the box pops up a logical conclusion. But why worry if the people are fools and cannot understand a Premise. Ah - a story of a dog scouring the countryside searching for a Premise and all he finds is a logical conclusion of a Dog's Life is one of servitude. Huh? No dog's are about pecking order. Let me think - a story with a logical premise with a conclusion - an ending to the story - ah ha - done and we add a few problems like - where is the Theme Park? I want a Theme Park where I find my Hero who saves me from the Wicked Witch. Nah - I love playing tric
ks on people and dogs. Maybe I write about tricksters - I know about them - I was one of them once. Now what is there in my life I can get a middle to the story. Bit by bit I am putting it together - a start and a middle and an end - a storyline. Oh, I can tell you - this thinking is making my head hurt - half a sausage roll please and some milk - I am going to sleep - this writing stuff will wait - I have plenty of time- - zzzzzzzzzz

  ~~~

  ‘Oscar - Oscar - wake up - we are going to the oval. Here put this on you mate, a new collar and a chain - a special chain and the clip goes on and away we go. Penny is up the road waiting with her friends. They are bringing their dogs and Penny will look after you. No more running free Oscar; you will have to sit with the cheer squad today mate.’

  Jack was excited I could tell youse - yes siree - woo - a cheer squad of dogs - woo.

  ~~~

  ‘OK, hello Lucky. How are you today? Off to the social event of the week with me too? And how have you been? OK, I won't sniff you or you sniff me? Let the other dog's do that if that is their wanting or need. I have been thinking about you Lucky and thought - 'You could help me write a book to help dog's get more acceptance in society and less hassles from Council Dog Inspectors'. What do you think Lucky?’

  ‘I am not your friend Oscar. I am here because we were told to help Jack get you out of the house whilst his mother rests,’ Lucky said with her nose pointing in the air.

  What, I have this all planned and what is happening? This is not in my plans. Back to being described as a drongo dog wanting to write wonderful words in a story. How demoralising. Well, maybe there is a premise or a plot or a hook in that idea. A brilliant writer is subject to all sorts of setbacks as he fails to write a word. Nah - nothing like that happens in real life. I notice Lucky is walking alongside of me with a hint of touching each of our shoulders as we jog along. It is like holding paws as we walk. I like being accepted as just another dog going to the oval.

  'Lucky, if I could jump over a fence gate, would you be in your backyard tonight?’

  ‘No. I am an inside dog Oscar and do not dare jump over my side gate at night,’ Lucky said still with her nose in the air.

  ‘All right then - whatever.’

  ~~~

  ‘Now Jack, the man from Brisbane is there, the man with the clipboard taking down details. Go over there, he is putting a number on each player so he can take notes and can identify each player.’

  I see how tall Jack is. Very tall compared to other players there. I have not seen so many boys the same age of Jack in one place. Where did they all come from? I will take a back seat and ask a few relevant questions so no one knows I am a writer of stories.

  ‘Hello Blue Heeler. How are you today? And what do you do for a good feed?’

  ‘Buzz off with your journalism questions. Go write about puppy-napping by gangsters stealing puppies for the black market trade for the Hot Dog Stands,’ Blue Heeler says to me.

  ‘I am not a Journalist. I am a writer of stories. Just asking, you don't have to get on a high horse over it.’

  ‘Hello Poodle, how are you today? Have you figured out the square of a hippopotamus yet?’

  ‘Go away with your smart cracks about Poodles being intelligent. I am not the normal Poodle but I do know things.’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘I know that when it is time to eat I have to be at my bowl. And when it is time for lights out I am to go out the back for a nightly wee wee. These things I know. I know you are here because of the cricket. My owner plays cricket too.’

  ‘My owner, Jack, is going away and I will not see him again.’

  ‘Hello Jack Russell, what is your name?’

  ‘I am Cheeky.’

  ‘I am not asking about your attitude. Dogs sometimes take on the attitude of their owners. Is your owner cheeky too?’

  ‘My owner is the salt of the earth and can draw beautiful pictures of Russell my friend. My name is Cheeky. That is all you need to know?’

  ‘Cheeky, you are a short legs dog. Can you walk under a Doberman and not touch his tummy? I like you and maybe we can sit and talk about dog breeds.’

  ‘Oscar, come here and sit with me please,’ Lucky said.

  ‘Ah, yes Lucky, do want to speak to me about what I asked before?’

  ‘No, I just want to sit alongside of you. And you sit alongside of me. There does not have to be a reason Oscar.’

  For the rest of the time at the oval I am sitting alongside of Lucky. I am able to think about what Blue Heeler said. And about what the things Poodle said. And about the things Cheeky said about her owner. And about how I feel when I am with Lucky. I want to jump over her side gate but I know not to say it again.

  ‘Jack, you and the three lads to your left - yes - you and you and you - the four of you come here please.’

  Oh, I wonder what this is about. I have behaved myself. This day I say is strange just sitting and observing. Oh, now we are finished and going home. Penny is excited chatting with Jack but Emma is holding my lead and walking slowly to the street. I cannot even turn my head with this new chain and lead... Lucky steps a little closer to me and looks me in the eyes... I might just jump over her gate tonight in case she is out in the backyard.

  Whatever is going on with Jack I can’t work it out. Jack has run home without me and Penny is talking on the phone she carries in her dilly bag. She is talking to Nanna Sue. Something about the costs. I am not to know. Ok, so what about Lucky? Is she interested? No. I walk slowly and don’t realise we have got to the front gate of Lucky's house and she stops and whispers in my ear.

  ‘But it would be nice if you were at the side gate just before the lights go out in my house tonight,’

  And Lucky turned and walked away as if she never knew me.

  ‘Oscar, I have to remind you - One night and one day to go - you have not got your writing together yet - practice Oscar - practice - the story must be finished,’ Calliope said.

  ‘Oh no, not the story again, ok Thalia - woops, Calliope, I will do it. I thought I had it covered - and it just had to be written.’

  Tools - I need tools - where are my dictionaries? Where is my writing tablet/computer? Where has my Premise gone? I have lost the plot. I suppose if I just jump the fence and run away I will be living off the premises. I can do it - I know I can - it is far from a crowd of madness or a twist of a fete and a may pole for dogs. Oh no, not mixed up words again - and I thought this was going to be easy - as easy as a walk in the park when the Council Dog Catcher is not in sight. Oh - ok - but I want my sausage roll and milkies - I need a hug.

  Poor me ---- thwang - one thousand violins and ten bass guitars go through my head and I know I have been shot in the head with a Galactic Fart again. It makes my back teeth rattle and my spine vibrates along it until my eyes go cross-eyed. I know I can do it. Ok - leave me alone – leave me alone with the galactic fart in my ears stuff. Uh oh - there is din of noise coming from the house again like last night. I suppose we all have our problems but Jack is not the problem - or is he - maybe he wants or needs money - now I will just sidle over to the back door. No - the house has gone all quiet.

  ~~~

  Now the house is quiet I can read about words. Where are my dictionaries - the big green book of words - for humans it is huge and heavy but for me I have a Limited Canine Online Edition. Now where is that smallish one - the words I relate to - especially with an Aussie Terrier who lives six houses up the street from me - ah - Abridged Aussie Slang - this will impress her. I think printing is about impressions - so is having a Lucky in your life.

  Oh, quietness is what I need to relax and be calm to think straight as a country kilometre. Now, study a bit, rest a bit - write and correct and re-write. Yeppers, chilli peppers on a side salad - never had it but it sounds nice enough to scoff down. Ah – now, what words first - like Quantum Physics? Let's have a starting point and then a critical factor in our life - eh? What about a bit more Far North Queensland in our writing, eh? O
h, Lucky has inspired me with words. I think it was my use of words, which changed Lucky’s mind about me. Now the first word is - press the Enter key and the Random key and what pops up is --- is- -- ‘Aardwolf - a rare, shy, endangered species'. Ah - this dictionary is too big - try the Junior Version - ah - hit Enter - and the word is –‘Abacus - counting money’ - ah - the next word is – ‘Prose - Ordinary written or spoken language rather than poetry’ - ah ha - I think there is a message in a bottle appearing - next word – ‘Saga - 1. a long novel about the lives of a family or group of people. 2. Any long story.’ I think I have my words to inspire me. I am to write a saga one day about a group of dogs. Now the same with the Macquarie Abridged Slang Dictionary - press Enter - and the word is - press the same key and - nothing comes up - maybe I just focus on the main dictionary and slang will appear in my life later.. strange this - anyway, I have little time to waste - words - now a few minutes going through these main word dictionaries - gotta know em to use em - words - the words which show that a dog is intelligent as a grasshopper on a leaf. Ok, this smaller dictionary is for me. Smaller words too. If I use one of the big words wrong it would show me as an ignoramus - and I bet you wouldn’t want to think of me as one of them. An ignoramus is a philosopher. An ignoramus knows nuttin. Saggis told me Philosophers know nothing and that is why they seek knowledge they never had. But - I am a dog who knows.