Dean Spanley Page #7
that he could make that one sound
convey so many meanings.
There was a "Wag" which meant a walk.
There was a "Wag" which meant
"Go away from the table"
and there was a "Wag" which meant
"You are to be bathed. "
And of all the "Wags"
that "Wag" was the most terrible.
Why was that?
Because, for all his great wisdom,
he never understood how embarrassing
it is to meet another dog
when one isn't wearing one's own smell.
But more importantly,
they did not know who you were,
so you had to go through all that business
of circling and sniffing and growling.
I was always being embarrassed in that way
with a particular friend of mine.
So what did you do?
Did you have to fight him?
Oh, we fought a few times,
just to get acquainted. That I enjoyed.
My favourite grip was the ear.
You always hear how going for the throat
is the best approach,
but in my experience it's almost impossible
to get a throat grip,
so I would always go for the ear.
But it does give the opportunity
for excellent complaint.
My friend had a very good complaint,
which I memorised and I would use
if I had to take a beating from the Master.
- He beat you?
- Only...
On certain occasions it was called for,
certainly.
Then I would use this splendid complaint
which I'd learned from my friend.
So what was his name,
this friend of yours?
His name? I don't think I knew
the name his master called him.
Indeed, I'm not entirely sure
he had a master,
but his complaint was most satisfying.
"Oh, rescue me. I'm a poor, unfortunate
creature, far from home and without a friend. "
"Help me, help me. "
"I have fallen into terrible straits
and am about to be murdered. "
Which, of course, was not the case.
This dog, the one without a master,
what sort of dog was he?
Oh, the best of fellows. Adventurous
and carefree, fearless and bold.
But you said he was whining
and snivelling about being murdered.
Oh, that was just his complaint.
How did you meet him,
this friend?
He would leave messages
on the cart that brought the milk.
And I would reply.
And then one day, he came to our door.
Well, I told him to go away
and I barked my most enormous bark
and made myself very huge.
But he wasn't afraid and said so.
You weren't... how will I put it...
a female by any chance, were you?
- Of course he wasn't.
- Not at all.
We were just good friends.
He'd led a very interesting life
and knew many more things than I did,
which he told me about
in considerable detail.
- How did he tell you?
- In the messages that he left me.
And I would leave word of my doings,
which, I confess, were not comparable to his,
because all I'd ever done was
go for evening walks with the Master.
And while they were enjoyable outings,
they were but moon-cast shadows
compared to his adventures.
Did you ever go
on an adventure with him?
Indeed.
The greatest of my life.
I remember the Master had to go away
and I couldn't go with him.
And I was going to follow him,
but then my friend came
and he proposed we have an adventure.
Since the Master was leaving,
I said yes.
And off we went.
What a day that was to be a dog and
to be with one who knew how to be a dog.
For I confess, happy though I was
to belong to the Master,
until that day I had barely glimpsed
the glories of dogdom.
He introduced me
to the joys of chasing animals.
A matter in which
I was largely unversed,
having previously only had the opportunity
Cats are of no use for chasing
for, not knowing the rules,
they invariably climb up trees,
a habit I find contemptible.
Horses, on the other hand,
understand the rules perfectly
and enter the business in good spirit.
But of all the creatures
that a dog can chase,
none exceed sheep for sheer pleasure.
Their fear drifts in clouds behind them
and you breathe it in as you run along,
so you become quite intoxicated by it.
It's as if one is not so much running
but flying on it.
Or perhaps swimming
might be more a exact description.
Were it not for their master appearing,
we might have chased them all day.
Be gone!
My friend didn't care,
but I thought we might be seized
and prevented from further adventures,
so I persuaded him to leave.
So we went into the woods.
And there we had the good fortune
to come across... a rabbit.
It's not commonly known
that rabbit scent,
particularly when it's frightened -
and this one was very frightened indeed -
does not lie along the ground,
but rises in heaps
so you have to jump to inhale it.
When we'd had our fill of its fear,
and in this endeavour my friend showed
what a splendid fellow he was,
for he drove
straight through the thicket,
paying no heed
to its many inconveniences,
and sent the rabbit scuttling
to where I was stationed.
...how much more satisfying
a recently alive rabbit tastes.
to appreciate fur, guts and bones
for the delicacies that they are.
Then it was time to quench our thirst.
And then, as in all things
that befell us on that glorious day,
we came across some water
that had gathered in a hollow.
Then, after we drank our fill,
we rolled in it
to give ourselves a good glow
and then we went into the woods
to rest in the shade.
- Perhaps we should take our...
- Father.
Be quiet and sit down, please.
You went into the woods and...
And we slept.
That most sublime of states,
rather than the other way round.
And when we awoke, the moon was rising.
It was just on the other side of the woods,
so we set about surprising it.
And we came very close to catching it,
for it was slow to get up.
But just when we were almost on it,
my friend couldn't control himself
any longer and let out a cry.
And had we been there
but a moment sooner,
we surely would have seized it
and torn it apart like the rabbit.
How it would have tasted, I cannot tell.
So we told it what a great
cowardly, unsmelling thing it was
and if we ever caught up with it,
Then we turned around and went home.
So you knew the way home?
Oh, yes. Turn towards home and go there.
But you had been out all day, running free.
How far from home were you?
Yes, we'd gone many overs, that is true.
How many, I couldn't tell.
Overs?
Overs. Many overs. Over woods and
fields, streams and hills. Many overs.
And you just... turned towards home?
- How else would one do it?
- Then why...
And I knew that I should be beaten
and I remembered my friend's complaint
that I would use
and how delicious it would feel
when the beating had stopped
and the insults had finished.
Yes, the glow of having paid the price
for wrongdoing.
And were you punished?
No, not on that occasion.
Why was that? Do you know?
Because a very remarkable thing
happened on the way back...
which I cannot fully explain.
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"Dean Spanley" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 23 Dec. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/dean_spanley_6546>.
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