Fido's Californian Vacation

FRIDAY

The garage had cooled down during the night as the cental heating went off, but a welcome flow of warm air was washing over me when the cage door rose to release me that morning. I scrambled out at once, and went out into the backyard to begin my daily duties. The Mailbag hung on its hook by the kitchen door as usual, but I found, when I went to take it down, that I was still wearing my mitts as my Mistress hadn't taken me out of my role as Her dog the previous night. But I managed to remove it somehow, and set off at an easy trot to the Estate entrance, the Mailbag's strap slung over my shoulder. Dawn was just breaking, and the air was freezing, encouraging me to run at my full speed to warm up.

When I arrived at my destination, panting and out of breath, I realized that I was going to have problems opening the door to the small hatch wearing mitts. I could turn the handle, and the door would open a fraction, but then my 'paws' would slip and the spring-loaded door would close again. In the end I managed by picking up a stick in my teeth and wedging it in the gap between the door and its frame, using it to enlarge the gap enough for me to insert a 'paw' and open it fully. I exchanged the Mailbags without difficulty, but then found it impossible to pick up Ms Howards newspapers, in their plastic wrapper, with my paws. Fearing Her anger if I returned without them I almost panicked until I realized that I could pick them up and carry them back in my mouth.

So it was that I began my return journey, the Mailbag over my shoulder, and the plastic package of newspapers in my mouth. It took a long time to return, the slick plastic slipping in my mouth so that several times I was obliged to stop, set it down on the ground, and manoeuvre my mouth around it to get a better grip; also the weight of package tired my neck and jaws. I sat in exhaustion for several minutes on the scrap of carpet by the kitchen door before I busied myself trying to open the door in order to place my Lady's mail and papers by Her place at the table. But it was impossible to gain entrance; and I had to content myself with hanging up the Mailbag and setting the newspapers down on the doormat. Then I sat shivering in the cold air, waiting for my Mistress to rise and come down, and hoping She would not be too angry with me.

Due to the lateness of my return, not many minutes passed before my Goddess, wearing a padded silk housecoat and tan silk slippers, opened the kitchen door. No doubt She had been puzzled and annoyed that Her mail had not been in its usual place, but She saw at once the cause of my difficulties, and refrained from punishing me.

Taking down the Mailbag from its hook, She turned and led the way into the warm kitchen. I picked up the plastic sack of papers in my mouth and followed Her on all-fours to Her seat. She put on plastic gloves to take the saliva-wet package from me before wiping it fastidiously with a scented tissue.

"Clever dog, Fido!" She said. Then, indicating a spot by Her side: "Sit! Stay!"

I watched Her unblinkingly as She poured her coffee and began to go through Her mail. Half way through She ordered me to fetch the waste bin, and I picked up the discarded mail in my mouth and dropped it into the bin. She had toast, for a change, and again I sat by Her, hungrily watching each morsel as She ate. She noticed my yearning attention, broke off a crust, and offered it to me.

"Take it, Fido!" She commanded.

I did so, neatly and cleanly, taking great care not to let my lips touch Her fingers, for She had neglected to don Her usual gloves. She fed me several times before rising, putting the letters She had reserved for Her further attention in Her briefcase, and leaving the room.

I hesitated for a second, then rose and followed at Her heels along the corridor and into Her Study. Just as on the previous night, although She must have known I was there by the faint tinkling of the bell on my collar, She ignored me completely as She sat at Her desk and booted up Her computer. Just as on the night before, I wriggled gently past Her legs and into the knee recess below Her desk. Once settled in position, it was not long before my Mistress absently put Her softly shod feet upon me, to my great delight.

She went on with her work, telephoning and typing on Her keyboard. By the names of the organizations She was calling, I gained some inkling of the high position She held. It was to 'Mister Robinson' of the Bank of England She would ask some remote receptionist to speak, to 'Herr Gluck' of the Frankfurt Stock Exchange, to 'Mister Mancini' of Manufacturers Hanover Bank, and similiar luminaries, all important movers in the worlds of Commerce, Banking, and High Finance.

It was while She was speaking, in Her impeccable Parisien French, to a M. Gaston Lefebre of the Bank of France, that Her younger sister entered the room.

"Sorry, Sis; but is the dog in here with you?"

Under my Mistress's feet I stirred restlessly.She pushed my head aside irritably with Her toe.

"Come out, Fido!.......Pardon, Gaston.....une moment......yes, dear; he's here. Can you take him out? I think he needs to do what a dog's gotta do at this time in the morning! Will you feed him for me?......Allo? Gaston? C'etait mon chien......Alors........"

She carried on Her conversation as Her sister led me out by my collar, along the corridor and through the kitchen out into the yard.where she put on my leash and led me into the sandy scrub. When I'd done what she had brought me there to do, she led me into the garage where she put me in my cage. After shovelling some of the crumbly 'Animal Feed' into my trough, she left me.

Later, after a brief sleep, I woke restless and bored in the cramped cage. I stared through the bars into the dimness of the garage and whimpered as I realised that my Mistress could have me shut up here all day - and all the next night too. Perhaps my present position had slipped Her mind; perhaps she had gone out somewhere: in any event there was no way I could communicate my misery and loneliness to Her, caged and forgotten as I thought I was.

But I was much too pessimistic; to my great joy my Lady appeared like a succouring angel to me in my imprisonment. Whining my joy, I emerged from my cage to nuzzle Her feet and Her gloved hands, while She laughed indulgently.

"Good boy, Fido! Did you miss me?....Come on!"

I followed Her to the front of the garage where She bade me stand up. With Her own hands She fitted my harness and my bridle. She placed the bit in my mouth, picked up a long, springy whip, and led me out into the sunshine onto the lawn before the patio where the young lady sat at a table, a cold drink at her elbow, and her eyebrows roused in enquiry.

"I'm going to train him to work in darkness, dear," explained my Lady. "I've been remiss; I noticed the difficulty you had with him the other night."

"But it's not dark yet, Sis!" objected Her sister.

"Foolish child!" came the gently mocking reply. "All I have to do is......this!"

She raised Her hand to my bridle with a swift movement and flicked the blinders attached to it forward to cover my eyes.

Over the shock and fear induced by my sudden blindness, I heard Her continue.

"Your problem was, little sister, that your beast wasn't trained to trust its driver to see that it didn't trip or collide with something it couldn't see. This is how you do it...to give it confidence in its Mistress.....Muffin! Walk on!"

With this She flicked me on the haunch, at the same time sliding the hand holding my halter right up to where it was clipped to my bit; so close that I could feel the soft leather of Her glove on my jaw. Instinctively I started to move forward, despite the fear and disorientation I felt. I was greatly helped by the close guidance She gave me, and was soon confident enough to step out without a thought of any possible unseen hazards in my path.

She led me round in a large circle, at the same time gradually extending the effective length of the halter She held me on, until I was walking, with perfect trust, round and round Her at a distance of several feet .

I felt the whip shaft lie across the front of my thighs.

"Stop!" my Mistress called out.

"There, you see?" She addressed Her sister. "Now we'll try him with his cart. You take him and harness him to it.....don't forget to hold him right up by his bit!"

The young lady's footsteps aproached. I noticed the difference immediately as my Lady released my halter into Her sister's hand. Her handling of me was much less confidence-inducing, causing her to use the whip more freely. But she managed to lead me back into the garage, to attach my harness to the shafts of the cart, and to lead me back to where her Sister was waiting.

The sure, gentle hand of my Lady took my halter, high up near my bit as before.

"Walk on!" She commanded, laying Her whip on my rump.

I obeyed with the same trusting confidence as before, and soon She had lengthened Her grip on my halter to its maximum as She led me around in circuits of increasing complexity; circles, ellipses, and figures-of-eight. Then She made Her sister try; she was much less successful at first, but began to get the hang of it.

"The secret is to keep a constant gentle pressure on its bit, dear," She explained. "Because it can't see it needs to be sure that you are controlling its movements all the time, otherwise it will panic. You're doing well, dear.....Now let's try driving it!"

Reins were attached to my bit, and my halter removed. I heard my lady's soft footsteps retreat, and felt the cart sway as she took Her seat. Sensing that I was a little frightened, She took a minute or so to talk to me softly and soothingly.

"Good boy! Good Muffin! Mistress won't hurt Her pony!" etc.

As She did so She pulled back a little on the reins, so that a gentle, comforting pressure was applied to my mouth. Then She flicked me on the rump.

"Walk on!"

Tentatively I took a step into the blackness, then another. With increasing confidence I continued in a straight line, the cart rolling silently on the grass. Though I knew very well that the lawn would soon end, I found that I had perfect confidence in my Mistress to direct my movements. And so it proved, for the pull on the left of my bit increased as that on the right diminished and I turned left on to what was a path, for I felt the change under my feet from the clipped grass of the lawn to the coarse turf of the Estate paths.

I walked on and on at an easy pace, around bends and up and down grades, my primitive fears of moving around blind dissolving as I went on without mishap. Then the whip struck again, and for a brief moment I panicked at the prospect of trotting through the dark, unable to see where I was going. But only for brief moment; the constant gentle pressure on my mouth reassured me, and soon I was trotting along at full speed, with perfect trust in my Lady's ability to keep us from crashing into some obstacle. At some time I was driven out into the scrubland, for I felt the hot sun on my shoulders and back, and the hot sand under my running feet. There I was driven in a series of complicated manoeuvres which I performed with complete confidence, before my Lady back pulled me gently to a halt.

I was aware of Her alighting, and leading me a few steps forward. The cart brake clicked on, and the reins slithered over my head. I heard the scuff of leather, and then the sound of Her footsteps mounting wooden steps. I heard Her say:

"Let him rest for a bit. I'll have a cold drink, then you can take him out. He's done very well with me! But it's essential that he's brought to trust his driver. Put yourself in his position; a blind animal being forced to run through the dark. You'd be frightened of tripping or running into a tree or something! He must KNOW that you are in control of his movements."

"I see!" remarked the young lady thoughtfully. "A lot different from driving him when he can use his eyes!"

"Yes, indeed! Then you can afford to let his reins slacken when you wnat him to continue in a straight line; he can see where he's going. But when he's blinded, you have to keep presssure on his bit; equal to keep him going straight, on one side or the other if you want him to turn. But never so much pressure that he'll think you want him to stop!"

The two sisters continued with their talk while I took what stock I could of my surroundings. I was standing on grass, in the shade. Even unable to see I was fairly sure I was on the lawn in front of the patio. I suspected I was tethered by my reins to the balustrade though I had no way of proving this, for I could not move in any direction, harnessed to the cart as I was. And even if I had been free of the shafts I doubted I would have summoned up the courage to move, blind as I was, and with my arms firmly strapped behind me. The knowledge of my complete helplessness might have depressed and frightened me beyond measure were it not for my total trust in my Goddess - She would not see me hurt! The footsteps of Her sister as she came nearer brought me out of this train of thought. She untethered me, and I followed her round uncertainly to the pull on my bit; she was not as sure as Ms Howard in handling me. After she'd got me into clear space, she mounted into the cart. The reins went slack for a moment before pressure was asserted on both sides of my bit; a little unevenly due to her inexperience.

The whip came down on my rump. "Walk on!" she said. I complied; we crossed the lawn a little vaguely, the pressure on my bit altering alarmingly as we went. But she managed to get me on to a path at last, and she was wise enough to keep me at a slow walk until she gained experience in directing me, and until I gained confidence in her.

This mutual learning curve went on for some time, but at last she felt able to whip me into a faster pace, then - and I think we were on the long, wide straight which led to the Summerhouse - into a full gallop. By now I was only a little fearful; she braked me slowly and took me left onto another, evidently narrower path, for tree branches and shrubs occasionally rapped my flanks as I trotted on. I'd pulled her, with some effort, up a grade when she stopped me. Panting and exhausted, I felt the reins being pulled over my head again and heard a brief fumbling of leather before her soft steps went away. I wondered if we were in the glade on the hilltop where she had taken me before. Then she had lain down on the soft, scented grass and slept for a while.If she should choose to do that now there was nothing I could do except to stand patiently waiting for her to drive me away. Meanwhile, my eyes being lost to me, I extended as best I could the range of my other senses. I could smell the scents of flowers and grass, and I could, by concentrating, hear the soft rustling of leaves under the cool sea-breeze, and the occasional startled flutter of a bird. Then I heard the muted jingle of her mobile telephone. I was tethered downwind of her, of course, and her conversation came to me clearly.

"Hello?.....Sis?...Oh, the software from UCLA?......It's come?...Oh, good! I'll drive down and pick it up!"

Her voice was louder as she came closer. My reins were untied from whatever she'd tethered me to and dragged back over my head as she took her seat. A painful flick from her whip and the command 'Walk on!' and I started off. The halt had done her recently acquired expertise little good, for I found my self zig-zagging across the glade until she regained command of me. She was careful to take me slowly down the grade, but when we reached the bottom and she'd tugged my head round on the new route, she whipped me immediately into a fast trot. I was a little scared; her touch was by no means as assured as her Sister's, but I was finally slowed and halted without mishap. I heard her leave the cart, open and close a door, and felt the cart heel on its springs as she remounted.

She whipped me into motion, and we set off again. From my sighted memory of the lay out of the paths I tried to estimate our position, but the twists and turns of our journeys had thoroughly confused me, and when I was brought to a halt on paving I had no idea where I was.

Again I was (presumably) tethered; again I heard her footsteps diminish. After recovering my breath, I again consulted my nose, ears, and sense of touch. Results from the latter were scanty; I could feel the heavy, sweaty harness around me, and I could tell I was standing on paving - it felt too smooth under my feet to be concrete. I could tell, too, that I was in shade, and possibly screened from the breeze, for the air was hot and still. My nose brought me the smells of sun-warmed wood and stone, and a hint of something else which I knew from long ago. I was puzzling over this when there suddenly came the sound of fast, flapping feet and an enormous splash not twenty yards from me. Then I knew what the smell was - chlorine, and I was near the swimming pool I had been sure existed on Ms Howard's property.

I had no idea, of course, of the identity of the diver, now noisily splashing around in the pool. It may have been my Lady, and, oddly, I was glad of my blindness then, for I obscurely felt it would be an act of great impertinence on my part to regard my Goddess in so scanty a garment as a swimming costume.

More feet and another splash announced the presence of a further swimmer; almost certainly both sisters were now in the pool. Sweaty and dirty as I was (for I'd been unable to operate my shower earlier when I'd been in 'dog' mode) I envied them the cool cleanliness of the water they swam in. But, of course, my Mistress would no more dream of allowing Her pony into Her pool than She would Her dog!

I heard them emerge together, then the soft sucking of wet soles on stone. The rustle of towels being briskly rubbed on bodies, then the creak of canvas and wood as they lay down in their recliners. Then the tinkle of ice in glasses; I licked my lips thirstily at the sound, and as usual tried to project my need at my Mistress a few feet away.

But She was talking to Her sister; by my heightened sense of hearing, lying on Her stomach the while.

"You get on alright, dear?" She enquired lazily of Her sister.

"No real problems," came the reply. "It was as you said; the trick is in keeping the reins a little tight all the time."

"You haven't lived until you've driven a pony and trap at speed through complete darkness, with only a tiny light to show you the path, little sister!" She said playfully.

"OK." answered the young lady, a little dubiously. "I'll have a go at it sometime!"

"You'll be OK," laughed her Sister. "Now let's relax.....What time is it anyway?"

"Twelve noon exactly!" Her sister replied, after a pause.

"Fine! I'll have a short doze, then fix lunch about one o'clock. That be alright, dear?"

Her sister assenting to this proposition, they fell silent, and, presumably, slept. I stood patiently on the hard paving; hot, sticky, and envying them their slumber. I was also becoming bored beyond measure, tethered here unable to move more than a few inches in any direction, and I longed for one of them to wake, and drive me off somewhere - anywhere; just so I could feel the cool air on my hot,sweaty body.

It could only have been an hour or so - though it had felt much longer - when I heard one of them stir and rise. Bare feet slapped softly on the paving as the walker approached. As my tether was loosed, and the reins pulled back over my head and shoulders, a bare upper arm brushed against my bridled head and a faint clean of chlorine came to my nose. The cart heeled as usual under my Driver's weight, the whip flicked my body, and I set off trustingly into the blackness.

Very soon I was aware that is my Lady Herself holding my reins, Her sureness of touch was unmistakable. Guiltily I imagined Her as She sat in Her seat above me. I knew She was barefoot, and I was sure She was still clad in Her swimsuit. It would be one-piece, of course; probably some shade of light tan or cream the better to show Her flawless skin, and the perfect proportions of Her Woman's body. It was as well I was blind, I reflected; and what would She think if I conveyed somehow that I found Her physically attractive? I imagined Her reaction: astonished laughter and honest incomprehension, as if such a sentiment had been expressed by a bird,a cow, or a cat. I knew very well by now that She looked upon me purely as an animal.

It was quite a short journey, not much more than five minutes at the slow walk She kept me to, and when She alighted and tethered me, I found I was standing on gravel, from which I surmised I was by the Front Porch, not many feet from my box.

A long, boring interlude followed; I imagined the Sisters eating their meal, and relaxing afterwards, but when no-one appeared and the time wore on and on, I became more and more bored and restless. I recalled that I'd often seen harnessed and tethered horses in that condition, shuffling their hooves back and forth, pawing the ground, eager to be on the way; now I found myself doing the same, my bell tinkling and the rings on my bit clattering against the metal clips of my reins. It was so much worse being blind; the permanent darkness made my predicament more unbearable, with nothing to distract me. But there was nothing I could do; only to stand patiently waiting, praying that my Mistress would soon come to me and take me somewhere - anywhere! - away from here.

But, after what seemed an age, it was not She who came, but Her young sister. Everything I heard and felt told me this; from the sound of her footsteps to the clumsy way in which she pulled my head round by my bit when she had untethered me. She mounted the cart and whipped me into motion. Her handling of me would never be as gentle and sure as her Sister's, but quite shortly she had me trotting along, only a little apprehensive of what might be in my path.

I knew nothing of our journey, of course, except that was in three parts; only that I was halted twice, tethered and left alone, once for some time. Tired and footsore, I was finally stopped back at the front porch, where I was tied up as before.

Another long, weary interlude; then my Goddess came to me at last! Not to drive me, for She led me gently off, and I felt the feel of grass below my feet give way to gravel, and then to the chill, gritty concrete of the garage floor. There She, with Her own gloved hands, unharnessed me from the cart. She removed my harness,the bridle and bit, and last of all, the blindfold. Before my eyes had the time to become accustomed to the light, She ordered me to kneel and extend my hands. She slipped the mitts over them, and clipped a leash to my collar. Blinking in the still dazzling glare, I was led on all fours from the garage and out into the back yard. There, over the drain, the short chain from the steel ring set in the floor was clipped to my collar.

My Lady left me for a few minutes, only to re-appear dressed for dirty work in coveralls and rubber bootees, an ensemble She wore with the same unconscious 'chic' that She would wear anything. She turned on the tap and hosed me down, then She poured liquid soap all over my body. Finishing with washing off the suds, She dried me quickly and expertly with some lengths of old sacking; the coarse weave making my skin tingle. She completed my 'toilette' with a liberal application of animal deodorant, detached the chain, and, commanding me to 'Heel!', walked out onto the lawn below the patio. She led the way up the steps onto the verandah; there I found She, or Her sister, had attached a long chain to a staple set low down on one of the thick wooden balustrades. The end of this chain She clipped to my collar, then walked into the house, leaving me on all fours staring after Her. The chain was eight feet long, but still too short to allow me to reach any of the tables and chairs set upon the wooden floor; however, my Mistress, in Her kindliness, had spread a large square of sacking by the balustrade I was chained to, to save my bones from the hardness of the floor. I blessed Her as I sank down on it, then began to ponder what events were like;ly to place when She returned. My spirits were high; at least I was not wearing my hated muzzle, and I liked my 'dog' role even better than being Her slave - it enabled me to get closer to Her.

I looked through the rails out across the lawn. It was much later than I'd thought - for I'd lost all sense of time standing blind between the shafts of the cart - the sun was nearly setting, red and huge on the clear horizon. Lying quite comfortably in the warm, still air - due to constant practice in the last few days - I could hear the various sounds made by the residents as thay went about their various activities in the house. It became dark; soft lights were switched on, along with the muted blue-white glare of insect exterminators set high in the walls. The young lady appeared, and laid the table for a 'diner-a-deux'. Occasionally delicious cooking smells came to my nose, causing my mouth to water. Then my Lady came in and took Her seat. Her sister brought them both aperitifs, which they savoured as their dinner was brought to perfection in the oven.

Bored, and longing to be with my Mistress, I rose and went to the end of my chain to get as close to Her as I could. The rattling of the chain upon the wooden floor alerted them to my movements, and I felt my Lady's amused gaze upon me as the chain checked me and I sat upright about three feet from Her chair.

"Poor Fido!" said Her sister. "He wants to lick your shoes, Sir!"

"Not these shoes, he won't!" replied my Lady, examining with approval the slim russet high-heeled shoes on Her shapely feet. They had obviously been chosen, with Her usual exquisite taste, to go with Her gown of the same shade, and the necklace of garnets - surely they couldn't be rubies? - around Her long and slender neck.

"You could always muzzle him," Her sister argued.

"Not tonight - I thought I'd give him a break. I've chained him up so he won't be too much of a nuisance."

I whimpered at Her words, then lay on my belly and stared at Her with fixed devotion, my head propped on my paws.

They convered languidly for a few more minutes, then my Lady served their meal. Like all superb cooks, She used only the finest ingredients and cooked them in the simplest of ways. First there was a bouillion, clear and strong; then a simple steak with a side dish of salad; finally a delicate iced trifle. With the first courses they drank a robust Californian Red; with their dessert a Chateau Yquem. The young lady brought back a selection of cheeses. along with more of the red wine.

Perceiving that my chain would allow me to get at least a foot nearer to Her sister than to my Lady, I rose and sat at as close to her as I could. I raised my eyes to her face (which I'd never dared to that of my Mistress) and stared at her beseechingly.

"Poor Fido!" she smiled. "What do you want, boy?"

In sudden inspiration I half rose on my heels and held out my paws in the classic 'begging' position.

The young lady laughed out loud in glee. "Oh! Isn't he cute?" she exclaimed. "Here, Fido!" And she leld out a rind of cheese to me.

Automatically I glanced at my Mistress for permission. I was glad to Her nod slightly, but I could see She did not really approve. 'It's alright on this occasion', She seemd to convey, "and she IS my little sister. But I don't like people feeding dogs from the table!" (From which I could tell that it would be the muzzle for me in the future).

But this was tonight; tomorrow could take care of itself! (Also, I suspect that, having been treated as an animal for so long, I was beginning to lose all notions of the importance of the future as being something which I, as an animal, couldn't affect).

Finally my Lady's sister had exhausted the supply of rinds and crusts on the table, and my Mistress suggested they take their coffee and Brandy further along the verandah, where they could watch the stars.

I stood and whined after them as they moved to comfortable wicker chairs further away from me, but my blessed Goddess returned, to remove my chain from the post it was attached to, and to re-secure it to another one by their seats.

They sat back in their chairs, their drinks on a small table between them, their feet resting on a large, woven rug. To my great joy my chain, in its new position, let me get onto the rug near enough to reach my Lady's feet should She choose to extend Her legs a little. And She did, but only long enough for me to nuzzle Her shoes for a moment before She withdrew them from my reach. Foiled, I flopped down at their feet; the young lady stretched out her legs and rested her dirty sneakers on my hip.

"Isn't he a good dog!" she said contentedly. "I wish we could keep him always!"

"I'm working on it," Ms Howard said enigmatically.

"Wow! Really, Sis?"

"Yes. A problem is finding somewhere to keep him."

"I've an idea! What about up at the cabin in that old bear cage?"

"It would certainly be large enough to let him move around a little. But he'd be very lonely, and one of us would have to go up there every few days to fill his feeder and so forth. I think that would be too cruel, little sister. No, I've thought of a way to keep him here."

"Here? As a permanent animal? Wow, Sis! How are you going to do that?"

"Well, the only people here on a regular basis are the cleaning staff, for three hours on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays in the morning, and the gardeners for three hours on Monday and and Friday afternoons. If I change the hours for the gardeners to the mornings of those days, we'll only need to keep him out of sight on three mornings a week for three hours at a time - and I think I've found the very place to put him in!"

Her sister wrinkled her brow in thought, then her face cleared.

"The old root cellar!" she cried.

"Exactly!" said my Mistress. "The old cellar below the Summerhouse. No-one will ever know he's down there."

"We can keep him chained to the wall!" the young lady enthused, her eyes alight with enthusiasm. "Or you can put him in slave mode and make him dismantle his cage in the garage and re-erect it in the cellar! You're a genius, big Sister!"

The two fell silent, enjoying their shared vision of my future while I lay there indifferently. Then my Lady's sister spoke, her voice hesitant.

"But would he.....could he.....really go through with it? Knowing he'll be kept like an animal for the rest of his life?"

Ms Howard bridled. Her voice was dismissive.

"I own him........and he will do what I want for him........won't you, Fido?"

She kicked me carelessly in the small of my back. For answer I rubbed my head against the sharp heel of Her shoe in abject devotion. She brought her sister down to earth.

"But that's in the future, maybe,"She said briskly. "And now, if you've had quite enough Brandy, it's bed for you, young lady! For all of us, in fact!"

So saying, with lithe grace She rose from Her seat. Commanding me to 'Heel!' She unloosed my chain and strode out upon the darkened lawn. With me faithfully hanging on Her footsteps, She led the way to the garage. There She caged me, before shovelling into my trough an ample supply of feed. She lingered a moment as I ate, ruffling the hair on my lowered head with Her gloved fingers.

"Good Fido! Good dog!" I heard Her whisper; then, with a sudden move, She was gone, leaving only a trace of Her subtle fragrance on the air disturbed by Her passage.

In the darkness I gobbled down the feed She had given; their conversation about my future with them completely unregarded. Ms Howard, I knew in my heart, would see to it that no real harm came to me. True; sometimes people have to do things to animals that the animal doesn't dislikes and fears - but it's done for the animal's own good. Often in the future this would happen to me, I thought, but my complete confidence in my Goddess warded off any fears. What would be, would be. If I could only spend the rest of my life at Her feet, 'that Paradise would be Paradise enow!'

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