New Horizons.

New Horizons. 

He looked upon that familiar, now abandoned, space, Seeing it with new eyes.

The faded twill seat, worn shiny on one side where his left arm had rested firmly over the years.  The dark green phone, silent now. The lighter ring of wood where the varnish had been worn away by the mug, which had always stood there, bearing his son's image at the age of seven; his eldest grandchild is now that same age.  

There were dark patches in the dust where his blotter pad had rested for twenty years, where the absence of a mouse mat, computer and keyboard completed a set.

  It looked alien and empty now.  Yet he knew his life had been travelling inexorably towards this moment of parting.  The bin was full of papers, thumbtacks, paper clips, and chewed pencil stubs; all the detritus of his working life but he didn't care.  

He closed the door a final time without looking back, consciously resisting the urge to turn off the lights.

"Heh heh.  Retirement!"

The Last Journey?

The Last Journey?

All around her the sound of thunder as the herd rolls across the plain.

A seemingly unchanging dust bowl, but each year it grows and the waterholes shrink.  She blinks, clearing her vision momentarily.  Every year they make the same journey, their survival depending on it.  They travel from here to there, for the lush green grass and cool, clear, deep water.  Then travel back again when the weather turns and they receive that irresistible urge to make the return trek.

  Don't think about it, just do it!  Keep with the herd, there is safety in numbers, follow the line towards the setting sun.  Look forward, never look back.

But, our numbers are dwindling, food and water becoming harder to find.  Surely we must all know the end is coming.

Will this journey be the last?

Would he come?

Would he come?

She gazes expectantly from an upstairs window, Would he come?

Costumed children wander up and down the street shaking plastic buckets, yelling, "Trick or Treat."

Would he come?  He said he would come.  Seven-thirty on the dot, he'd said.  It was now eight twenty-five.  

Almost an hour late, "Where are you, Daddy?"  Maybe he wasn't coming, she rubbed her eyes, slowly walking away from the window. Gazing at her witches costume in the mirror, one last time.  Tears started on her cheeks.  She sat at the end of her bed.

Her bones ached, her hands were stiff and gnarled.  A taxi pulled up outside and she dashed for the door.  But, the man who entered was a stranger.

"Hello Mum," he said, taking her into his arms. 

Who is he? she wondered. 

"You do know who I am don't you mum?" he asks.

Then in a moment of clarity, she replies. "Mr Altzeimer?"

Pink Rabbit.

Pink Rabbit.

A beer bottle missed my head by inches smashing on the path behind me. Something shattered in front of me spraying shards that hit my calf and fanned out before me.  I felt a sharp pain, "Ugh!  You cow Jenny."  A three-foot floppy-eared pink rabbit hit me square in the chest and my hands grabbed it instinctively.  The front door slammed as I retreated to the front gate.  I could hear her clomping up the stairs. It sounded like mayhem, glass breaking cupboards slamming.  The window flew open and the corner of a suitcase peeked over the windowsill.  "No!" I yelled as all my clothes and worldly goods flew in the wind.

"Sod off Brad!" she yelled.

"This is all your fault!" I yelled at the pink rabbit.  He just grinned back at me, as I read the label ~ 'To Allison, love Brad'.

"Jeanette.  Be reasonable.  I can explain..."

"Whatever!"

Sex-Appeal

Sex-Appeal

I thanked the driver as I got off the bus and headed straight for the hole in the wall; cash is king!

I had an hour to kill, so I went into my favourite cafe for a second breakfast.  There she was, the lovely Catya.  My favourite waitress always a smile and a warm welcome, full of joie de vivre. 

"Good morning meester Appelbee," she placed a full sugar bowl on my table and a hot strong mug of black coffee.  My eyes briefly engaged with hers and a shock of electricity ran down my spine. 

"The usual please Catya, eggs, bacon, tomatoes, two sausages, and a thick slice of fried bread; good healthy food."

"I get for you..."  Off she went, tall, blonde and beautiful, I breathed in deeply, conscious of her lingering musk.

She was all the more beguiling for being totally oblivious to her sexuality and its universal effect on the opposite sex.  I looked around the near full cafe and noted the eyes that followed her lithe form as she traversed the floor, like a model on a catwalk, smiling to all, collecting empty plates while exchanging pleasantries to either side never missing a step.  The cafe was always full, while further up the high street similar eateries had few or no customers at this time of day.

 Her father, the proprietor, followed her every step as she delivered my breakfast with elan.  His twinkling proprietary eyes informed me that he was very well aware of his daughters sex-appeal and thus her drawing power and what it meant to his bank balance.

In the past I had offered to marry her and whisk her away to a life of luxury. "You are really special, you could be a film star, a model, or a high class wh..."

"You say these things to all the girls Mr Appelbee," she chided.

"Seriously, what does your boyfriend think?"

"I haff no boyfriend, Papa does not approve of any of the boys I know..."

I'll bet, I thought.

"Then marry me and spend all my money."

"Is very tempting Mr A," she said with a devilish twinkle in her eye, "but you are 85.  You might not last very long, and Papa values your custom."

"Tell me if you change your mind.  I can wait, I have all the time in the world."

She smiled, and blew me a kiss over her shoulder, as she headed towards two animated young male customers with wide lustful eyes...

Newest addition to the Waxwell Road Mob

Newest addition to the Waxwell Road Mob

 is Truffles, a little chocolate flavoured chihuahua 0.63kg (looks more like a flightless fruit bat:

Already she shows a penchant for the I-Phone...

The Waxwell Road Mob

The Waxwell Road Mob

“Urf rrr urf rrrrr,” it was ‘the watcher’, Muffin.

“Raff rer-raff,” Sue leaps from the bed but is only the second Chihuahua to hit the floor running.

“Ro rororo,” Mia is a tireless toughie, the puppy of the pack.

The letterbox rattles and a chorus of canine voices give warning to the paperboy - enter at your peril.

A rolled-up newspaper appears, enticingly, four feet from the ground.   Each has their speciality and ‘the jumper’ is Sue it’s what she does best.   She sinks several inches then springs high above the letterbox grabbing the interloper in her mouth and with a deft twist of her head pulls it free of the box and throws it, in one single practised movement, down to the others waiting below.   Mia is the first to attack grasping a corner she twists and jerks upwards producing a satisfying ripping sound, followed by another and another as each, in turn, inflicts wounds on their victim.

Even as they tear at it they can hear bare feet padding rapidly across the lino.   Twist pull throw, one, two, three times, a triple attack from the Waxwell Rd Mob.   They stop, as Len arrives, looking up at him - he can almost read their thoughts – ‘always last to arrive.’   He’s the oldest pack member, and human, need I say more?

“What have you done to June’s paper?”

Mia’s answer is to shred off another two-inch-wide strip from the raggedy heap of punctured newsprint.

“Mia Christa-Dora you’re a bad girl!”

Mia struts away jaunty and self-assured – he loves me really.   As Len stoops to pull the pages into a semblance of order, she begins chewing at his right heel – Mmm not bad.

“You badun!”  

No sense of fun our gofer.

Returning to the bedroom he throws the paper into June’s lap, “Here’s the remains of your paper, best of luck reading it.   Must be a new paperboy he pushed it too far in and you know our Sue.”

“What are we going to do with you girls, look what you did to my paper!”

Bugs hadn’t bothered to leave the bed with the others, he’d seen it all, done it all before, and chewed up the T-shirt.   He viewed them with contempt – It’s only the Sun – he thinks, attempting to push June over so he can settle more comfortably in the centre of the bed; Bugs weighs 4 pounds, June 160 pounds, but physics was never his strong point.

That’s the trouble with gofers, they’re too wrapped up with personal possessions, Muffin observes, My sox, my coffee, my shoes, my paper, You’d think by now they would realise their station in life and who is really important.

Chihuahua’s thought Bugs 

Precisely, Muffin thought back, licking Mia’s watering eyes.

Len climbs back into bed so Mia straddles his chest, licking his whiskers, - Mmm, stir-fried chicken sauce, we had that last night.

Disgusting, You'll catch his germs, warned Bugs.

Len is starting to nod off, so Mia nibbles his nose and scratches at his beard.

“Ouch!”   You little monkey.   You’re a bad girl!”

And?   She almost smiled.

Bugs got off the bed and padded into the bathroom for a drink.   Ting, ting, ting, ting!   Ting…   Ting, ting, ting!...

“I think Bugs wants the water bowl refilled,” said June.

“Coming Bugs!” The clock projected 06:25 onto the ceiling.

Take your time gofer; guess I’m stuck with what they gave me…   Five minutes later Bugs is out in the garden making room for more.

Len is just dozing off again when Sue hits his chest with a four-footed tackle.   She growls and raises her paw pushing him – wake up!   When he doesn’t move she places the paw on his balding pate and jerks violently.

“Ouch!”

“They want their breakfast,” says June ‘the interpreter'.

Grr wrruff, says Mia.   Muffin watches inscrutable as ever.

“Oww!   Stop it, Sue that hurts.”

Muffin licks Mia’s eyes again.  

They collected Mia six months earlier from Chris Stewart’s Farm; in the Stour valley of Kent.   Both Sue and Muffin came from the same source but two years earlier.   Muffin had been broody just prior to Mia’s arrival and adopted her right off - treating her as her own pup.

“Okay, okay,” said gofer Len, "I know when I'm beaten," getting out of bed for the second time; the red ceiling projection now showed 06:50 but fainter in the dawn light.   “I sometimes wonder who’s in charge here,” he said.

“They are!” said June.   Len didn’t reply.

June turned a page as Bugs snuggled down alongside her.     Muffin took up station on her upper legs a lookout, gazing through the bedroom window at anything that moved, giving a continuous commentary on any and everything happening outside.  

Sue and Mia are in the kitchen pushing and worrying Len ensuring he doesn’t get distracted from the task on hand.   He sets their bowls on the work surface - gold for Sue, green for Mia, blue for Bugs, and white for Muffin, and sets the kettle on to boil.

What’s he doing? Muffin wonders.

Sue pushes his calf with her two front paws, we come first remember?

He goes into the dining room to collect the mugs.   Sue follows, a withering look on her face, "Rrr-rr-ruff."

“Don’t worry Sue, I haven’t forgotten you.”   He bends down to stroke her.

Mia scratches the back of his hand lightly as if to say What about me?    So he gives her some attention as well.   Then back into the kitchen and outcome their individual jars containing small plastic bags of individually wrapped 20g portions of dry dog food.   There are three varieties for each.   Bugs being fourteen has the senior variety with the low protein, Sue is on the diet variety, being overweight,  the biggest non-human in the pack.    Mia is the baby and gets puppy mixture, while Muffin alone has a normal variety.

Len fills the bowls and takes them into the bedroom.   They all clamber onto the bed to await the arrival of their breakfast.   Sue wolfs hers down, and Mia is close behind.   Bugs sniffs it dubiously and looks to see what everybody else has before deciding his is no worse than theirs and starts to eat at a leisurely pace.   Lady Muffin sits patiently beside her bowl, eating nothing, looking out the window until Sue and Mia have finished theirs, and are looking around for more.   As they approach the untouched white bowl they are met with a ferocious snarl.   “Urrr Grrr argh!”   If they have any sense they'll think better of it and look over at Bugs.

“Grrrrrr!”  His upper lip curls and he bares his teeth.  

They turn their interest back to Muffin who is looking out the window and ignoring her food.   Sue moves her head forward slowly and follows it with a timid movement of her left paw.   Muffin snarls again. 

Sue and Mia sit on their haunches watching the other two eat, their faces, pictures of innocence and longing; half a chance and they would pounce and gobble all they could.

Bugs and Muffin eat at their leisurely pace their demeanour says Don’t you wish you had some? 

Mia sidles up beside Bugs keeping her head lower than his.   He keeps his body between her and his food and continues to eat.

As always, Sue and Mia’s wait is in vain, but hope springs…

.-...-.

June's mobile phone lit up, 'Winnie the Pooh, Winnie the…'

“Hello?   Hi Karen.   Yes…  Yes…  Yes…   Of course.   Steve can bring him over any time.”  June covered the mouthpiece, “Karen’s been taken into hospital, the baby is coming, Steve’s bringing Connor down, he should be here in about half an hour.”

“Don’t worry about him Karen, he’ll be fine with us.   He can keep Dad amused, and give Bugs some intelligent conversation, and somebody to take him w-a-l-k-i-e-s.   Take care love; see you in a few days.  Bye.  

"Did you hear that Len?"

“Every word, hope the dogs have short memories.

Sue growled deep in her throat. 

 Muffin gave a shrill sharp howl.

Mia maintained an inscrutable look because she’d never met Connor. 

Bugs yawned deeply, the kid’s alright, Bugs thought.

Twenty minutes later a horn sounded and they heard footsteps running up the drive.   Len went down on his haunches to welcome his beaming ten-year-old grandson with a bear hug.  “Hello mate, you’re looking well.    Let’s get your case into the spare room.”

“Where’s Nan?”

“Where do you think?   In the kitchen, I hope you’re hungry.”

Connor ran into the kitchen and hugged June.   Muffin was close behind him growling, as she nipped at his heel.

“Ouch!   That hurt.”

“Muffin!” Len scooped her up and placed her outside the back door.   “You can stay there until you calm down.”

“I don’t like her!”  Connor said, close to tears.

“Show me your heel,” said June.   “Ahha!  No skin broken, that was just her way of showing you whose boss. 

“Here,” said Len offering a tube of cream.

“What is it?”

“It’s a special Anti-Muffin-Nip cream; it’ll cure you in no time.”

June smiled and rubbed some onto the faintly reddened heel. “There how does that feel?”

“Much better thanks, Nan, why doesn’t she like me?”

“She thinks anybody new is an intruder.”

“But, I’m not,” he protested hugging her.

“I know, but it’s her job to check out visitors and decide if they can join our pack.   It’s a sort of initiation.”

“Like when I went to my new school, they wouldn’t talk to me until I shot a few baskets, in the playground and Colin Lang said I was okay and I could join his team.”

“They let you have guns at school?   Len, I’m not sure I’m happy about that. It’s becoming more like the USA here, every day.”

“He’s talking basketball love; 'the shooter' is the equivalent of the ‘Goal Shooter’ in netball.”

“Ah!   Would you believe it, basketball; as I said, more like America every day.   Muffin will soon come round, and accept you as part of the family,” said June.

“Where’s my friend Bugs?   He likes me,” said Connor.

“He’s in here, stretched out on the sofa,” Len said glancing at the front page of his gardening magazine.

 “Thanks Granddad.”   He went in search of the oldest of the four Chihuahua’s, whilst June opened the back door and let Muffin back in.

“Hello Bugs, can I sit here?”   He flopped on the cushion beside Bugs and began to stroke him.

Muffin burst into the room “Row, rowrowrowrowrow!”

“Errrr!” said Bugs, So Muffin hopped onto June’s recliner chair.  She curled up like a cat and sat, quiet as a mouse, watching.

“Granddad?”

“Yes mate.”

“Can I take Bugs out for a walk?”

“I’m not sure about that, he’s getting old, he’s fourteen in our years.”

“How much is that in dog years?”

“Well, one of ours is seven dog years,” said June, “so that’s…”

“Ninety-eight,” said Connor.

“My word, your good at mental arithmetic,” said Len.

Connor heard a tinkling sound and looked down.   Bugs sat at his feet with a blue leather lead in his mouth and his tail wagging.   “I think Bugs wants to come,” said Connor.

“June, come and see this.”

“Well, I’ve never seen him do that before,” said June.

“Take it off him quickly, before the others see, or they’ll all want to go w-a-l-k-i-e-s,” Len spelt the word out.

“Walkies?” said Connor.

Muffin buried herself under cushions, while Mia and Sue jumped up and down excitedly.

“Now you’ve done it,” said June.

“I’ll take you two when I get back,” Connor promised.   They followed Connor and Bugs to the front door, watched them walk down the garden path, and out through the front gate.

.-...-.

"I think we could walk as far as Watery Lane, and then we can sit on the bench and rest awhile before coming back.”   Bugs looked up at him and seemed to nod in agreement.  

An older boy ran by with a bull terrier on a thick rope and choke chain.   “Pussy,” he yelled at them.

Connor ignored him.   They walked off slowly, side by side until they reached the bench and Connor sat down.

'Get me up, this pavement is cold'.   The words just seemed to form in Connor’s mind.

“Did you speak?”  He looked around for somebody who might be playing a trick on him.   The lane was deserted.

'Just get me up please?'

He took off his jacket and folded it for bugs to sit on.   They sat there a while in silence, Connor stroking Bugs, looking around to be sure nobody was watching.

“Was that really you in my head Bugs, or am I going bonkers?” he whispered.

'You're Okay kid, you can hear me but nobody else can.'

“Why me?”   He sighed, “Haven’t I got enough problems?   I’m about to become a big brother.”

'How the hell should I know, I don’t make the rules.   I’m fourteen and I've had a good life, you’re a kid just like Mia, but you’re ten just four years younger than me.   If you were a dog you’d be…'

“Seventy, yes I know.”

'I was about to say Geriatric.   Life ain't fair.'

“You got that right Bugs.”

'What have you got to worry about?   Okay, so you’re a ‘Gofer’ well that’s an honourable profession, somebody has to do it, and since humans have hands, it’s something you’re well equipped for.   So you do all the fetching and carrying for us dogs.   That’s not so bad, is it?   You can go out whenever you like and have money you can spend.   You even get to spend some on yourselves occasionally.  All in all I’d say you got it cushy.'

“Yea?   What about bullies beating up on me and calling me rotten names in front of everybody and the threats...”

'Don’t worry about Muffin, she’ll come around.   You’re a decent kid, what’s not to like?'

“I’m talking about school.   You heard that big guy with the bulldog..."

'Bull Terrier.'

“Whatever.   Nobody likes me, the teachers are always getting at me, and Uncle Steve says they’re only doing it for my own good.   Granddad says I’ve got to give as good as I get…"

'I’d say as bad as ye get.'

“It gets so bad sometimes I wish I was dead.”

'You wanna change places?'

  “Can we?”

'Nah!   It’s just wishful thinking kid.   Maybe you could get into training and learn to run real fast.   Then, you just hit that sucker as hard as you can and run like hell!'

Connor smiled briefly.   “I wish I was an adult, then everything would be simple.”

'Sorry to mess with your dreams kid, but the big guy got laid off a month ago, he just mopes around the house, searching the internet, writing endless letters.   All the funs gone out of him, why today’s the best I’ve seen him in an age.   It doesn’t get easier with age, take it from me.'

“What am I gonna do Bugs?”

'I guess you just gotta say enough’s enough - I ain’t gonna take no more!   But, what do I know about it, I’m just a mutt.'  

“Your right Bugs, I’m feeling sorry for myself and you obviously have troubles of your own.   Do you want to tell me?”

'Wouldn’t want to bore you with my trivial afflictions.   Renal deterioration, possible kidney failure, I’m on tablets for it but— Heh!   Veterinary bills, cost an arm and a leg,   Have you seen the strength of the big guy's eyeglasses?   He cuts tiny little tablets into four to get the dose right, then he wraps them in strong cheddar cheese to disguise them so I’ll eat them.   Ain’t that somethin?'

“O-oh!   Here comes the bulldog again.”

'Bull terrier.'

“Who’s talking about the dog?”

“Hey woose, where did you find that scrawny little rat.”

“This scrawny rat is a man-eating Chihuahua!   He’d have your runt for breakfast, but he doesn’t eat anything that small.”

“Why you—  Get him, Spike!"   He released the choke chain and Spike growled and charged towards them.  

Bugs roared 'Rabies!'    And went for Spike, biting his right leg.   Spike howled in pain and ran off down the street, with his tail between his legs, yelping.

“Now it’s your turn Ugly-puss,” Connor yelled.

Ugly-puss’s face distorted into a snarl but as Bugs turned towards him he looked less certain.   He lashed out with his foot kicking Bugs high into the air.   Bugs landed with a thud and lay still.

“You asshole!”   Connor screamed and ran in like a dervish, fists flying.   He landed one two three punches and Ugly-puss turned and ran.  “You and that dog are mad!   I’m gonna tell my dad.”

Connor turned towards Bugs, tears in his eyes, and tried to lift him.

'Don’t!   Get the big guy; he’ll know what to do.'

.-…-.

The young Vet looked grave.   He placed his stethoscope to Bugs’s chest for the third time and shook his head.   “Considering his age, medical history and his current condition, I doubt we can restore him to anything like the quality of life he deserves.”

“You think it best we have him put to sleep?” June asked.   Len stood stoically, to one side, tears pooling in his eyes. 

“Don’t let him die, Granddad, it was my fault…”

'Don’t be so melodramatic kid!   You didn’t make me do nothing; did you see that Bull terrier run though?   It was worth two months of my life just for that moment.   And, look at you!   Taking on a tough guy a foot taller and older than yourself – he was nearly a man – he ran an he ran heh heh!   It’s my time kid, It’s only at the end we are given the gift of mind speech and even then it’s only special dogs that get it.  Say goodbye to me like a man, and don’t forget what you learned today.

“I’ll give you a few moments to consider which action is in his best interest, but he is in a lot of pain.   If he were human he wouldn’t get the humane choice, he would be made as comfortable as possible and be forced to linger.”

“No need to prolong his suffering, If the right thing is to let go,” said Len.

“Would you like to hold him for me?”

“I’ll do it said Connor,” he felt the adults hands on his shoulders, and as he cupped Bugs’s head in his own hands Connor felt the love flow in both directions.


“Goodbye Bugs.”

Bye kid.  Don’t take no shit!