And then he was very happy

A report to the owners of a guest.

It was a crisp and clear day in late autumn. He felt a certain tension in the air as he left his comfortable cave where his bed and spaces were second nature to him. He had the sense that nothing bad was going to happen but he did feel that the pack leaders were somehow less sure of themselves than normal and that made him just a little less certain.
But that was really only a fleeting imagining as the walk was nice, they were all going down a familiar path and along a place where puddles and water lay temptingly on the ground. There are big bottle boxes here that smell of leader's drinks and make noise when leaders put things in them. All was fun until a loud explosion erupted close by. It scared him, and his pack leaders who immediately pulled him in close, despite the fact that he really wanted to find out what had caused the noise.
He began to think the noise was his fault because the pack leaders immediately took him to the yard where he knew he would get stung, feel bad and throw up. That was what happened last time they took him there.
Thankfully the pack leaders didn’t take him to the yard place. Bit they did take him very close. A big plank moved and there was a cave and a leader he had smelt once or twice before.  He relaxed a little now as it was clear that there was no threat and he happily barged into the cave and began exploring. Before he knew it his pack leaders, who had followed him in, were leaving through the same hole and the plank was put back so he couldn’t get to them. No problem he thought, I’ll just got through the other part of the cave and find them.
But no matter how many parts of the cave he went into there was no pack leader to be seen or smelt. Just the smells of this new leader. He was about to go around the cave again when the new leader got his attention, told him to sit and he did that because that is what you do when a leader says sit. Suddenly one of those yummy little bites of food was in the leader’s hand and offered. It seemed it was very good to sit and he relaxed a bit more.

 
It was then that the new leader opened a big clear plank and led him out into the stinging yard . He was not happy and looked at the leader for help. There seemed to be an understanding as a comforting hug was offered that made him feel a bit safer and before he knew it they were walking around the yard and there were no bitings, and no sick feeling. He felt better and followed back through the open plank.
Suddenly there was a problem, this floor felt funny and didn’t like being walked on as it slipped away under his feet. It took him a little time but with encouragement he trusted his feet and followed further inside to a comfy towel on the floor. There was now time to walk around and find out about the place which he did with great concentration.
Shortly the new leader called out his name and clipped on the lead and they went back to where the big bang happened. The leader threw some noise into the big metal smelly boxes and gave him a pat so that he felt okay. A friend walked up with her small leader and while he and the friend sniffed, said hello and romped a little the leaders exchanged growls and whimpers, as they do. With the new leader giving a pull on his collar, he walked off but was not allowed to leave the new leader’s side which confused him a little but he eventually gave in. Only a short time later he got a pat and was told to go play. He was getting much happier and met lots of friends, some of who he knew and some of who he would recognise by smell. At these meetings there were lots of leader growls and whimpers, always started by a noise ‘horse’ for some reason, and he and his friends got on doing what friends do in the presence of their leaders.

This continued for many interesting smells and friends and lots of noises and walking and trying to remember to stop when the leader stopped to let moving metal boxes go past on wheels. Suddenly he was back in the big green flat place near the water but this leader did not release the clip from his collar. Never mind, there were moles to smell and wet friends to talk to. Climbing up some stairs then stopping for wheeled boxes and up some more stairs there was the plank that moved and a nice long drink put out for him.

The leader started to do boring things and he suddenly felt very tired and fell asleep. When he awoke there was the smell of nice moist food and he was suddenly very hungry. It was very good and with a big long drink he was quite content. The yard looked good now and the glass plank was opened for him to stroll around the nice yard for a while. The slippery floor was not so much of a problem this time and the leaders hands started to look like they needed to be played with. For a little while they were quite a lot of fun to play with but they eventually went away and a sudden and deep snoring sleep started to need to be done. He was quite content. But he occasionally woke to look at the plank.

It seemed like no time at all that another leader came through the plank and he was given a lot of hugs for doing absolutely nothing but they made him feel very good.    He felt so good he followed the new leader up the stairs and while she was in a little room he decided he would wait for her up on the big soft flat thing. This created a lot of noise from both leaders and he was bought back down the steps. He stayed awake for a little while to watch the two leaders move  some food things around and then move other things around that smelled like the noisy boxes where the big explosion happened. But other than some more hand and foot playing there were no more surprises until the pack leaders he knew the very best arrived at the plank.
And then he was very happy.

October 31, 2011.
Baby-sitting Bentley the Great Dane.

The Devil's Playground

“It’s 6:45 and time to get up. Bip bip bip.
It’s 6:45 and time to g”
I nudge the phone to shut her up.
Shit, I hate that thing. I chose it because she sounded like Claire on Look North.
You can go right off some people.
I roll over and look through the streaked glass.
Yet another morning of dull.
Getting ready and off for another day of drudgery at the office is so automatic my brain stays asleep right up until I’m reaching for the handrail and the dickhead driver does a pole position start from the bus stop.
I just manage to keep hold of the rail but spin into the disabled space. The grey lining of my navy coat flaps open. No-one should ever see that.

Immediately my vacant brain fills with bile-fueled hatred for everyone there, the driver, the three sniggering schoolgirls, a gormless youth and two sneering suits. A dear old lady looks at me with something between shock and relief, then smirks at me. I hate them all.
A black mist rises through me and double-handed I pull my way upstairs, fighting against the next two jolting gear changes.
Bugger it, my seat at the front window is gone. I instantly hate the girl with her hair all held back in fancy plaiting,, and the old bloke hogging the other corner,, he doesn’t deserve to live.
I know it’s childish but I like to see where I’m going, judge the traffic, pick the line through corners. It gives me something to do. I can’t read in buses.
Using the momentum of the last gear change I grab the top pole and swing around down the aisle.
Then I spot my new vantage point.
Centre seat, back of the bus. Nobody else up here. Just the three of us.
I drop into the elevated perch one micro-second before the driver breaks heavily. I brace myself against the seat in front. I look forward to the camera lens and can sense the driver has checked his screen and timed his breaking to make me fall on my face.
Well, I thwarted him this morning.
A small glimmer of victory pierces my inky mood.
Today will be "The Wednesday" then..
I scope out the bus. 
I've practiced taking out the cctv camera but timing is critical for the rest of my plan.
I reach down and make up the hard cylindrical barrel. The silencer is secure.
I breath slowly, gather my thoughts, every detail must be timed to perfection.
The first three shots are critical, timed for just after the stop at five-ways. The driver won’t notice the camera is out for about three minutes, plenty of time for the call.
I go to my trouser pocket, pull out the sim card and swap it over. Good strong signal, I scroll the apps and select voice distort.
I’ll have about two minutes from when I shoot out the camera to make the call, deliver my demands.
My escape route’s researched and by simply reversing my overcoat after ducking down the back lane I can walk back to the office unnoticed.
Before I realise it, the stop at Five-Ways is happening.
Two solid African guys bound up the stairs laughing and take the seats directly behind the girl. I am really pissed off now, but I can adapt, I’m a professional.
Gear change three, Gear change four,
I take out my gun and snap off one quick thud that takes out the cctv, the plastic shatters and the old guy looks up, a clean shot through the top of his head and I’m lined up on the girl, she’s pretty, the bullet through her right temple is gorgeous and I blast the laughing African just behind the ear as he starts to turn.
I am amazed the second guy has managed to spring up and come towards me but my shot left of his nostril drops him like a log.
I get my phone and hit speed dial 1.
The call goes through, without waiting I hit 6. a female says “FirstBus emergency what is the nature.."
“Shut the fuck up. I have the 7:30, bus X98 hostage.
I have disabled the cctv. 
I have killed four passengers.
I have two demands.
Demand one. Contact the driver immediately, tell him to stay on route, do not to stop the bus for any reason. Demand two. You will call me back immediately you have done this.
You have forty seconds or I kill another passenger.”

I hang up, sit back in my seat and remove the silencer, re-training the gun on the stairs.  From here on in maximum muzzle noise is the preferred option.
I feel the bus swerve nervously and a few seconds later my phone rings, a male voice.
“Hello, is this….”
“Shut the fuck up and listen . You will put the week's payroll into the black case beside the pay clerk's desk. This bus is passing the sub-depot in four minutes, you will contact the driver and tell him to stop and open the doors. You will throw the payroll onto the bus and tell the driver to drive on.”

I hang up, remove the sim card and re-sight my gun to the stairs.  Within a minute the top of a head cautiously begins to ascend. One shot into the step above it vanishes the head and ensures my presence is confirmed. A scream rises from below and I click the safety on, sit back and relax.
The depot is visible as we approach and I see Keith running out with my briefcase.
The bus stops and I hear the shout and the case lands on the deck. Immediately the bus takes off.
This is my cue. I stroll confidently to the stairs and pause, a face looks up at me and immediately pulls out of my line of sight.  I rush down the stairs and jump into the aisle. 
Arming my gun I swing into the disabled space behind the bulkhead and take out the suits that sneered at me.  The old bitch and the school kids are dropped before they know what hits them. I break cover from behind the bulkhead just as the CitiSpace sign fills the window.
CitiSpace?
Shit!.. CitiSpace!..
I hit the stop button and race down the aisle.
I fly down the stairs for real this time and quickly take note of the driver.
I notice I am still clutching the rolled-up Metro and embarassed, throw it into the bin.
I smile and as the doors spring open quip  “Thanks Anass, go steady on the gear changes tomorrow will you?”
“Hi Mike. Sorry you missed your stop, I didn’t know you were up there. See you tomorrow. Have a good one.”

Strangely this day may be a good one, even if I did miss my stop.
I decide to sit in the centre back seat every day now.
It’s more fun than pretending to drive the bus..

The newspapers said he was the epitome of evil

My unique challenge was to write about 1000 words including the above phrase...and.... I had promised Gail that I would write a furry animal story again..... That would be two challenges then.

Brock Meles.

The day had been warm and the laughter, shouts and obscenities echoing from the day-trippers had died off as the sun dipped below the harvested hills. An occasional clank of boat life drifted down the embankment along with cooking smells wafting on the autumn breeze.
In the fading light Brock shuffled down the burrow to the mouth of the sett and placed his chin on the ground.

Feeling for vibrations through his whiskers he determined there were no more walkers on the towpath now. Out of habit born from caution he lifted his nose to sense what else was happening around the canal above him.    There was the oily smell of the floating metal things nearby, a vixen and her kittens were on the prowl on the other side of the water. The beasts that fouled the meadow were all at the far end of the field. As he crouched beneath the brambles tonight he could still faintly smell the old scent of his father who had carved this home and left his marks. Catching his nose too, was a wisp from the marshland bog that had grown nearby and now attracted frogs and newts, a doubtful legacy of Bardo’s foolishness.

Although the growth of the bog worried Brock, it may encourage Millie and Lizzy to bring on their next lot of cubs. This had been a dry season and until the bog formed there had been little food nearby. Now there were worms and frogs aplenty and the berry bushes were providing good crop. More food meant more cubs and more cubs are a reason to dig a further den in the set.  Brock was worried about digging here, his father had taught him caution, never to dig too high in the embankment.
Subconsciously Brock instinctively licked at his wound and that reminded him of Bardo returning to the set smelling of clay.
Brock had guessed there was treachery afoot and went out last night looking for the site of Bardo’s industry. He found it not far away, Bardo had started a burrow up the embankment where the sandy soil was quick easy work . It was the confirmation Brock needed,  Bardo did want to steal Millie and Lizzy and den their new cubs.
This could never happen.
Bardo's burrow was small but Brock’s fears were confirmed. He found Bardo had dug right up to the clay and water had started to seep through. This was what Brock’s father had warned him about and he quickly began to back-fill the burrow and retreat to the entry intending to collapse it , to scent mark the area, and to teach Bardo, once and for all time, who was head badger.
Bardo however had had other ideas, and following Brock out that night, had crept up and attacked from behind.  Bardo was no match for Brock’s 12 kilos and 5 years of fighting skill. By launching the surprise attack though Bardo had managed to tear a strip of flesh from Brock’s shoulder and rip open the sinew of his ear. Brock was already angry and  was then merciless enough to guarantee Bardo could never return to the sett again.

     A gentle movement now behind Brock broke into his victory reminiscences. With a final check of the air he grunted and let Millie and Lizzy past so they could forage, nosing both of them to check their condition.
He watched as they disappeared into the freshly turned field looking for fresh morsels.
Tonight Brock had decided to take the cubs to the new marsh and teach them how to catch some tasty frogs. With a growl he summonsed the cubs to the entrance and made them wait.  Smelling the air and feeling for movement through the earth Brock moved away to ensure the route to the marsh was safe. Other than the acrid smells from the distant village Brock was satisfied they were alone and with a soft grunt he called the cubs to him. With nips and squeals, tumbles and trips the cubs attacked the marshland with enough noise and vibration to scare everything but the slowest of worms into deep cover.
This frog catching lesson was going to take some time.

Brock flattened some reeds down for the cubs to start hunting. They jumped in with glee more at the prospect of the hunt than to stave off hunger as they were still being fed on milk and pre-chewed food. 
Despite all the fighting and digging going on at that moment Brock detected a worrying vibration and lifted his head to take a breath. He stood still and took another.  Yes,  the confirmation was there, that rancid grease and stale flesh smell, wafting around from a position up-wind. He had no idea how close they were and let out a low warning grumble. The cubs dropped to the ground and Millie and Lizzy arrived silently to huddle them all into a tight group. Brock stood tall and again smelt the air.
The sense was closer now although the vibrations had stopped.
He gave a bark to action.
Millie led the way and Lizzy herded the stragglers quickly back to the sett.
Brock followed, checking back constantly.
He dashed through the fence as the ground vibrated from the hunter’s footfalls. Simultaneously the branches overhead splintered and the ground in front of him erupted in a spray of soil. A boom sounded and more twigs splintered, a sharp searing pain burnt into his flank and another boom filled the air. Brock dived down the mouth of the sett making sure the others were all deep inside. Immediately he twisted around to bite at the burning hole in his side and with his teeth he grabbed at and bit out a small hard thing. The burning subsided and with his whiskers brushing the wall of the burrow he felt the hunter’s foot vibrations approaching over the field outside.

Fred watched the quarry disappear into the brambles and laughed at Henry,  “Ya missed ‘im ya daft bugger!”
“ I hit ‘im but owt but rabbit shot.  Tha said nowt ‘bout there being badgers.”
“ Aw shit!" Fred swore as he sunk ankle deep into the marsh.  "Fook the badgers, 'Enry, this whole bloody canal’s goin’ to give way!”
                                                                      ~ ~~~~~~~~~~ ~

The repairs to the embankment took six months and the badger protection group lost their battle to prevent baiting. But hopefully, what with all the protesters picketing about Tuberculosis, the smelly, noisy machinery bought in to dam the canal and the workers sent to re-build the embankment, I really hope Brock and the girls moved out long before the baits were laid. I doubt Brock's kind will ever again live around Gargrave since the newspapers said he was the epitome of evil, spreading disease and threatening to flood the village.