Someone to Look Up To

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Someone to Look Up To Page 13

by Jean Gill


  The crunch of gravel, my last moment and suddenly I knew what I had always wanted to tell my brother.

  ‘You are someone to look up to, my brother,’ I bayed. ‘Good hunting!’ and with the click of a door my body split in two like a tree-trunk hit by lightning. I toppled to the ground, and knew nothing. I couldn’t even tell you whether more dogs walked. I had learned Éclair’s lesson.

  All I know is that later that day, in the afternoon, visiting time, the Soum de Gaia Human came to our pen with Bigwoman.

  ‘Strange,’ said Bigwoman, ‘we rarely get Pyreneans and we’ve had two at once. Had to put the other one down this morning. Too vicious for adoption according to his master, who’s just back from a business trip to find that the brute turned on his mistress while the master was away. Nasty bite apparently. Thought they were supposed to be a gentle breed?’

  ‘They’re still dogs!’ snapped a familiar voice. ‘It depends on how people treat them.’

  Bigwoman gave a curious look. ‘The owner sounded to me like he was experienced with dogs. But you know the breed... Perhaps you could have saved this other one then?’

  Soum de Gaia Human glared. ‘It’s bad enough taking one disturbed dog from a S.P.A.. God knows what I’ll do with him but he’s my breeding and I accept the responsibility – and I’ll tell you straight, 99% of Breeders wouldn’t come anywhere near you. If we’re not careful, every owner who can’t handle their dog comes running straight back to dump it on the Breeder. So there’s no way I want some other Breeder’s aggressive failure to add to my own, thank you very much!’

  ‘I take your point, and we are grateful that you’ve come for Sirius,’ Bigwoman oiled her voice over us. I barely lifted my tail as the lead was put on me. Sirius de Soum de Gaia, ‘disturbed dog from a S.P.A.’, ‘aggressive failure’.

  Brave little Jack staggered to his feet, rallied Clementine and Melba to wish me a proper farewell but the words stuck in their throats and we just waved tails, needing no more than that. Surprised by the lack of protocol, the two newcomers who must have arrived without me even noticing gave me their polite ‘Good hunting, brother’ and I forbade myself all thought, fixing instead that last image of Jack and the labradors. ‘I will never forget you,’ I told them then responded to the pull on my lead.

  As we walked past the pens towards the centre, my heart quickened. A black mongrel gnashed at me from the single pen, where a notice still proclaimed, ‘Stratos, Pyrenean Mountain Dog, subject to veterinary follow-up for biting mistress. Waiting master’s return before being put up for adoption. Will need experienced owner, preferably dog-trainer. ’ Neither woman glanced at the notice as we walked on the gravel path, through the door that clicked shut and out the other side of the centre to the waiting car.

  Chapter 15.

  My Breeder didn’t speak to me once during the whole journey and I didn’t care. ‘Marc will come,’ I told myself as I licked my pads, already sore from clawing the pen walls. I chewed at the muddy tufts of hair and spat them out, then curled my tongue deep between the claws and rasped away until I could see raw pink skin and feel pain. So I could still feel something.

  Although I would continue to fill out for another year or two, I was almost full size now, and I could see out the car windows while still lying down. To the side, roads, trucks, cars rushed past me, screaming the zoom of traffic amid the whiff of hot asphalt, exhaust fumes, diesel and that vile artificial orange smell emanating from a little ball swinging from the driver’s mirror. Why do Humans overlay interesting organic smells of dirt and decay with artificial orange and vanilla? The clash is an offence to the nose - and that’s if it survives the first onslaught of spray chemicals, which have the same effect as does nuzzling ice-cubes.

  In the distance, a heat haze hung over the mountains, my mountains. Pic de Viscos, Pic de Néouvielle, Pic du Midi de Bigorre, Pic de Macaupera. the Vallée de Rioumajou, the Val du Lavadon... the old names soothed me like a brush over my fur, gently gently teasing out the tangles. I fell asleep.

  To be woken by the car stopping and my Breeder’s first curt words. ‘Out you get.’ I obliged. And here we were, Soum de Gaia Kennels. The farm had shrunk. The yard where patous and a couple of collies were milling; that pen yelping with puppies – had I really spent my first weeks there, with blue rabbit and green rabbit? Even the acacias tree seemed to have shrunk. The chatter of jays in the orchard made my tail flick with amusement as I remembered Septimus and his Choosing but I flinched aside from the other memories that brought.

  I skittered as we walked past the pen and excited littl’uns, fearless and yapping, pressed tiny button noses against the fencing. So had we been, my sisters, brothers and I. Oh, my brother. No, I didn’t relish going into a pen. We walked on, past the fence around the yard, where the dogs clustered round the gate, peering at me.

  ‘Sirius,’ barked a voice in greeting. Young, female.

  ‘Snow,’ I responded.

  ‘What are you doing back here?’

  Before I could answer, an older female voice spoke, coldly. ‘He let down the family name.’ Mother. My tail and shoulders drooped.

  ‘You shouldn’t believe everything our Human says,’ Snow snapped back at her. Now this was new! ‘I’ve heard plenty at the shows and I’ll tell you that our great family name has some very dodgy stories buried in the garden.’

  ‘And you shouldn’t listen to gossip! Humans at shows are just jealous of our success!’

  ’Oh, never mind all that now. Sirius I am so pleased to see you, little brother, and it’s your story I want to hear, from your own throat, not some Human version!’ She stuck her nose between the bars of the gate and we made contact, briefly, before my Breeder – I could no longer think of her as my, or even our, Human – pulled me on past the gate.

  ‘Walk on, Sirius. I can’t risk a strange male with my dogs.’ I added ‘strange’ to my description.

  ‘Where are you going?’ barked Snow, running along the other side of the fence, alongside me. ‘You stupid Human, bring my brother in here now! I want to talk to him! He hasn’t changed one bit and he gets on with all the other dogs!’

  ‘It’s no use,’ I told her, ‘save your barks for bedtime. ‘We’ll talk later. I’ll still hear you even if I can’t smell you or see you.’ Storytime, I thought, with my sister.

  ‘I hate her,’ Snow barked. ‘She doesn’t know us at all. All she thinks of is money. She’s probably even confusing you with Stratos.’ My throat closed on the name. I couldn’t talk about him.

  ‘We’ll talk later,’ I managed as we moved beyond the corner of the fencing, where Snow could follow me no longer.

  ‘Later,’ she promised and I was led away from the farm, the pens and up to a shed on a hillside, with a trough beside it and some chickens pecking around the trees.

  ‘Think yourself lucky you’re alive,’ my Breeder told me, as she attached a chain to my collar and staked it to the ground, within reach of the hut, within reach of the water trough and out of reach of any Humanity. Was I, I wondered, lucky? I lay down and waited for nightfall.

  As I expected, I heard my sister’s greetings on the evening breeze. But then they became louder and louder until a white shape rocketed into view and straight into a spat of paws and mouths. Panting, my sister disengaged and stood there, outlined in the purple light against the mountains.

  ‘You’re beautiful,’ I told her.

  ‘So they tell me,’ she shook her little mane of white hair, ‘every show-time.’ She danced around me, jumping sideways to nudge me and then settled to licking my muzzle. I returned the gesture. She smelled exceptionally female and when I got a bit too personal in my contact, she pushed me off and danced around again. ‘Cut it out. I can’t believe I escaped so easily! I’ve been wondering if I could ever since I came back from Tarquin’s and I just dug under the fence. It felt soooo good, scrabbling up all that dirt and then shimmying through the gap. Freedom. Of course Mother was telling me off while I was digging but she has
no control over me now, you know.’ Even from the little I had seen of my grown-up sister, I could imagine. ‘I can’t believe you’re here Sirius – it’ so good to see you!’ And she rolled me again.

  When had I last played with another patou? When had I last played with any dog, rolling on the grass, pinned down and snapping air or on top and flattening my willing partner. It had been too long and Snow indulged me in a long wrestling match. My chain hampered us but we made it part of the game, twisting round it to unblock a pinning move or to catch a slow ankle in its loop. Snow even took it in her teeth and dragged me in a circle till I turned on her. She was wild that night and it’s a miracle we didn’t do each other permanent damage but her scent both excited me and warned me off, told me that she was in charge, and set limits, however extreme, on our grappling.

  That’s for Éclair, I gnashed my teeth and power-charged my sister. That’s for Prince, I leaned my full weight against her until she rolled. That’s for... I gripped her ear in his favourite hold, tugged her in a circle, lower and lower. What she was fighting in her turn, I have a better idea now, but it made us well-matched that night in our mad release of energy. Whoomp! The breath left my stomach as she threw herself onto me, going for my throat. And I let her. And I loved it. And I didn’t care about the additional bruises to my already battered body, or the nick she left under my eye when she misjudged my flashing turn. ‘Woops,’ she said, then leaped again.

  Finally, bodies heaving with exertion, both panting at express speed, we lay side by side watching the sky darken over the mountain and more stars appear. ‘They’re always there you know, it’s just that you can’t see them.’

  ‘Same old Sirius,’ she snuffled, rolling on her back so the cool air played along the bare speckled skin of her stomach.

  ‘That’s what we’re made of, stardust, and that’s what we go back to...’

  She rolled back onto her stomach. ‘Don’t get all philosophical on me. There’s too much I want to tell you and I don’t know if I’ll be able to come very often. First I’ll give you all the news I’ve got, then it’s your turn. Stella is doing her bit in America for the good name of Soum de Gaia.’ That cynical note was in her voice again. ‘You wouldn’t believe the way they powder and primp patous for shows over there, no respect for us as working dogs. And the Americans are such a different shape, they might as well be a different breed. But Stella seems happy enough if you believe what her Master tells our Human.

  And I often see Savoie-Fer at shows. He is stunning, wins all the prizes. Mother says he’s the image of Father but I don’t trust her judgement any more. She’s just so ... biddable. She believes everything our Human says even when it’s obviously a pack of lies. Anyway, it’s been difficult for Savoie-Fer coping with all the rumours but of course he has his own bitches at his kennels, so he doesn’t have to mate outside. His first litter is due next week so you’re going to be an uncle.’ An uncle to his puppies. So many words had claws now and I was so raw.

  She cast her expert gaze over me. ‘You’re not bad-looking yourself, you know.’ She rolled lazily again, chewing on a grass blade. ‘And what about you? Seen any of the others? Or heard what they’re up to?’

  Now was the moment. But that final Choosing lay like a gash across my throat and I was afraid of opening it again. ‘No,’ I replied. My hesitation passed un-noticed.

  ‘I bet they’re just having fun with their Masters, lucky them. Do you think Septimus has learnt to fly?’ And then the reminiscences flowed. When you really go way back with someone, you don’t have to tell a whole story or even finish a sentence. Just ‘Do you remember Stella and the puddle?’ And both of you are smelling the same mud and angry, wet puppy, hearing the same squeals, watching the same pictures running again in your mind. Sometimes one of us would have a detail that the other had missed, or a different point of view. Snow was surprising me more and more. ‘I can’t believe how you’ve grown up. You were such a stuck-up little bitch,’ I told her frankly, ‘always dangling your good luck in staying, like a bone we couldn’t have.’

  ‘Yes, I was, wasn’t I.’ She was totally un-phased, so sure of herself. I wasn’t surprised that she won so many titles. She reminded me of him in her self-assurance and once more I was tempted to try and tell her but the moment had gone. Why spoil her night, her life? ‘But if it’s any consolation, staying here wasn’t quite the heaven I expected.’ No, I decided again, far better to lie here and listen to her account of jealous rivals and threats of poison, ears lying too low and triple dew claws. I let it all wash over me while the stars brightened over black silhouettes of mountains.

  ‘Sirius, can I tell you a secret?’

  ‘Mmm.’

  ‘I’ve got to go before dawn in case the Human comes looking for me here. She’ll definitely look for me. I’m worth too much money for her not to. I’m running away for as long as I can and I’m going to meet someone.

  ‘A new Master?’

  ‘No, silly, a dog. A clever, tough dog who works on the next farm, herding sheep. He came to see me last week and promised me...’ she was rolling again ‘... never you mind what he promised me but that’s why I bit Tarquin.’

  ‘Wow... slow down, girl. That’s not how you tell a story.’ And I should know. ‘Start with who Tarquin is, then go on with biting him.’

  ‘Wish I could.’ Snow snapped at a passing midge. ‘Tarquin is just one more beautiful patou from one more oh-so-aristocratic line. Oh don’t get me wrong, I appreciate a beautiful patou as much as the next girl but I’ve learned a thing or two on the show circuit and I don’t want puppies with some bad-tempered thug, however good his coat is! And as if his temper wasn’t enough to put you off, he’s a -,’ she growled his pedigree name in a low voice.

  ‘So? Isn’t that good enough for a Soum de Gaia or what?’

  ‘You really have been in the sticks haven’t you! No-one who cares about puppies would touch that bloodline. I’ve heard the Humans say it’s getting worse too; more and more puppies are being born with dislocated knee-joints and everyone knows it’s genetic.’

  ‘But I don’t understand. Why would your Human want a marriage between you and Tarquin if he’s all you say.’

  ‘I told you – money. Our Human doesn’t have any other way of getting money than us and puppies are worth more money if they have Champion parents.’

  ‘Like Father.’

  ‘Yes, except Father was healthy and right in the head not like that overgrown overfluffed bad-tempered airhead I was expected to roll with! But Tarquin the Wonderboy is a Champion and my coat is apparently ‘capable of improvement’ according to Mr Gedes, the Judge at Lyon. Judges! Now that’s another story! And our Human chooses not to believe anything bad of Tarquin’s mistress. And of course Mother goes along with everything our Human says. You wouldn’t believe how submissive she is! So there I was, alone with Tarquin the Great and him expecting me to cut the chase short and roll quickly. Some hope! He got his chase all right and I turned round and bit him good and proper when I’d had enough. His mistress came running then, shrieking that I was a bad-tempered bitch – me! – and not suitable for her little sweetie-pie, who was looking at me with killer eyes! Little sweetie-pie was led off in a very bad mood and I had to go home with our Human, also in a very bad mood, and muttering about artificial insemination. Well I want healthy happy puppies and I am off to have some fun!’

  ‘This ‘someone,’ I ventured, ‘you said he herded sheep.’

  ‘At least you listened to some bits. Yes, he herds sheep. Don’t you start with the ‘he’s not good enough for you’. I’ve had enough of that from Mother ever since she saw him doing what she called hanging around in a shady manner.’

  Bluntness seemed to be the only way to find out so I bounded straight in, ‘But patous don’t herd sheep.’

  ‘Never said he was a patou.’

  Now I was shocked. That was really going to put the wolf among the Soum de Gaia chickens.

  ‘So what is he?’<
br />
  ‘Collie,’ she almost purred. ‘Black and white, black patch over one eye and freckles on his nose. And so determined. Good jumper too. You wouldn’t believe how cute he is.’

  ‘I hope you know what you’re doing...’

  ‘No idea. But I think I’m going to enjoy it whatever happens. Your turn now, properly, right from the beginning. I want to know everything that you’ve got up to.’

  And so once more I told the story of my life. Every time you tell your story, it changes because you have changed, because your listeners of the past are in the story too, because the light shifts on the mountains. Then there are the parts of the story that you can’t tell but you know they are there, like the shadows of clouds on the mountainside, there even in the blackest night for those who know where to look.

  Chapter 16.

  When the first rays of sunlight brushed the mountains, a warm tongue licked my muzzle. ‘Au revoir, little brother.’ And she was gone, a flicker of white elegance dancing across a meadow. If I had to choose one image of Snow that would be it; the moment when she paused, one paw lifted and her head high as she scented the path to take. Behind her, the peaks were touched with fire and beneath her the meadow grasses mingled with late summer alpine flowers, tiny dots of purple, blue and yellow. Queen of the mountain, my sister, snow white. Lucky collie. Or perhaps not. I hoped, for his sake, that he could live up to his promises.

  As Snow had predicted, my Breeder was puffing up my hillside before the sun was much above the mountains, head furrowed. She brought food for me and I wolfed it. Was it just yesterday I thought I could never eat again? How the body betrays the heart and carries on, against your will. My Breeder’s thoughts were elsewhere and she looked carefully round my shed and territory. Carefully for a Human, that is, unable to see or smell what she was searching for. Two patou-shaped patches of earth lacked morning dew and still felt warm to the touch. Claw-scrapes in the ground indicated the wrestling matches of two patous, with different-sized paws. And how could even a Human not notice the intoxicating smell, like fire-works in your brain, unmistakably Snow at her wildest.

 

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