My Dog Tulip Page #2

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but I was thorough.

"Well that's done,"

I said cheerfully.

It was now her turn

to pretend not to catch my eye.

"You could say 'thank you,"'

I added mildly.

Why should i?!

She retorted, with a brief,

contemptuous look.

Standing there

with my hands full,

I had an impulse to drop it all

back on the pavement.

Women are dangerous,

and I feared now

that Tulip's death cries

as she went under a bus

while dodging

some vegetable missile

would sound like music

to this one.

I restrained myself.

For as long as I could remember,

I had been searching

for an ideal friend.

But I have never really found

the person who fitted

my exacting requirements.

There was always some flaw...

too tall, too short...

too outgoing, too shy...

too insecure, too independent.

As the years passed

and the opportunities

grew fewer,

I had a mental image of the

ideal friend as a plain jug,

containing a delightful mlx

of good companionship

and intellectual stimulation,

the shape, age, and size

of which

no longer

had any importance for me.

I still felt

that if I only turned

this corner instead of that

or boarded this bus

rather than that one,

I would find the ideal friend

waiting for me

and that we would recognize

each other at once

after the exchange

of a few words.

Ah, and a further complication

was that I did not want anyone

to think

that I was pursuing them.

It was therefore necessary

to encounter the ideal friend

face-to-face,

which is not easy

if you happen both to be moving

in the same direction.

It was with a measure

of naivet in dog affairs

that my first consultation

with a vet

was to inquire

whether she was in heat.

The question was never settled,

that is to say by him.

All he said

in a cold voice was...

have you no control

over your dog?

In the face of the evidence,

it was idle

to say anything but"no,"

to which,

still keeping his distance,

he dryly replied...

then take her out

of my surgery at once.

Another vet

had been recommended to me.

He was an ex-army man, a major.

Tulip!

Just have to

take them like...

having failed as I had failed

to shout her down,

the major swooped upon her,

yelping...

these Alsatians,

they're all the same!

...and beat her about the body

with his bare hands.

These dashing military tactics

did not enable him

to examine her,

if that was part of his plan.

As I walked away

from this establishment,

I supposed myself to be in the

position of an undoctorable dog.

And this gloomy reflection

was succeeded by another,

which was...

"if all Alsatians are the same,

did any of them ever

receive medical attention?"

It transpired that they did,

this time

for a most important service...

to have her inoculated

against distemper.

I had made the appointment

by telephone

and had thought it politic to

apologize for Tulip in advance.

The first sight that greeted us

before we ever reached

the surgery door...

for its window looked out

upon the yard

through which we passed...

was a spaniel,

all too plainly seen within,

absolutely motionless and

with an air of deep absorption.

The dog was standing

upon the table in an empty room

with a thermometer sticking out

of its bottom, like a cigarette.

It was almost as though

he'd put it there himself.

Oh, Tulip.

If only you

were like that.

But she was not.

Can you turn her back to me

and hold her head still?

I think so.

Good.

Now just keep her head

like that.

Uh, may I give her

the injection myself?

You could show me where

to do it, and she wouldn't

mind it from me.

Oh, I say, don't hurt her.

There's really no need.

After this,

Tulip would not, could not

even enter the streets

in which her last two

experiences had taken place.

I would suddenly miss her

from my side

and, looking wildly around,

espy her far behind me.

There was no getting away

from her face.

It said both,"what?"

And,"what?!"

I then noticed that in spite of

the nourishing food I provided,

Tulip looked too thin.

The distressing word"worms"

was dropped into my ear

by a passing stranger,

and soon after,

I decided to take her along

to miss, um, uh, Canvenini

or something like that,

which was the name of the lady

vet that she kindly gave me.

Miss, uh, Canvenini

stood quietly in front of us,

looking down at Tulip while

I stumbled through some account

of her past and present

troubles.

Then she asked...

what's her name?

I told her.

Well, Tulip,

you're a noisy girl, aren't you?

What is it all about?

Oh, how maddening,

how intolerable it was!

I found myself

suddenly yelling...

stop it, you brute!

I biffed her nose.

The blow was harder

than I intended.

I see.

Just slip the lead

through her collar.

I'll examine her

in another room.

A-are you sure

it'll be all right?

Perfectly all right.

No signs of worms.

She is in excellent

condition.

Uh...

how did she behave?

Good as gold.

Did you tie her nose?

Heavens, no!

I never do that.

I knew she would be no trouble.

How?

Well, you learn by experience,

I suppose.

But it isn't difficult

to tell a dog's character

from its face.

Tulip's a good girl.

I saw that at once.

You are the trouble.

I sat down.

She is in love with you,

so life is full of worries

for her.

In order to protect you,

she wants to be free.

Mm.

So she doesn't like

people touching her.

But when you're not there,

there is nothing

for her to do.

Speak to her quietly.

Mm.

In time,

she'll do anything for you.

Excuse me. Has, uh...

has she...

uh, um, um, miss canveninl...

has she ever been bitten?

Sublime woman.

My sister, Nancy,

who had no flxed abode,

became aware that I had been

looking in vain

for someone to become

Tulip's escort and caretaker,

as my office responsibilities

on most mornings

required me to abandon her

to long periods

of loneliness and boredom.

From the outset,

Tulip made it very clear

that she, not Nancy,

was mistress of the house

and had every intention

of maintaining this position.

I had naturally been worried

that Nancy, once installed,

would attempt to invade

what remained of my privacy,

but Tulip defended our territory

rather well.

The room Tulip and I occupied

was to remain

strictly out of bounds,

and any attempt by Nancy

even to approach it,

let alone knock at the door

or enter,

was greeted by a prolonged

outburst of ferocious barking.

No more was needed.

Nancy would not advance

another step,

but would call out to ask

some pointless question.

Nancy:
Joe, shall I put

the kettle on?

Joe?

Are you in there?

I thought I might

go up to the west end

to look at the shops,

but if it's going to rain,

then I don't suppose I will.

Joe?

Days passed,

and my sister's mind got busy,

as I guessed it would,

with the problem

of obstructing my wishes.

You know,

she's a quite different dog

when you're not here.

She's quiet, she's obedient,

she does everything I tell her.

And there's none

of that terrible fuss

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