I think I am getting to understand why I was told I was the one who had to fit into this family. I want Jack as my owner because he has grit in spades. He could be a Premier or Prime Minister. This is exciting for me to write about in a story. I think if I got a bit of bacon and some crunchy toast - not burnt - my stomach nerves might settle a bit.
‘Now see here luv, it is time we spoke a little bit more of trusting the adult getting his training wheels fitted. Betty, it is time to put some more trust into the twins. Jack and Penny, if I am not mistaken, you both have graduated to the puberty ranks of being an adult. Betty, they are entitled to know some facts of life.’
‘Ron.’
‘Hold on Betty, I have something to get off my chest too. Jack, the truth is we do not know. No one does. What we do know is, your uncle Bill was one who liked a snort or two on the bottle. He was, as they say in the courts, 'Inebriated', and he was waiting for a train, so the coroner said. He wanted to use a urinal but the one on the train station he was last seen on, was locked. Now it is said he wanted to do a whizz, so he went up into the tunnel, thinking he had time to return before the train came. Now what happened, we both, your mother and I, do not agree but it seems there was an almighty scream from the tunnel. You see, no one saw him go into the tunnel - but someone heard him call out - 'There is a light at the end of the tunnel' and then a train appeared at the station from the said tunnel. Now the Station Master who was there on the platform, was told of this man calling out. He went up the tunnel with his torch and saw your Uncle Bill on the ground dead alongside of the tracks and the Station Master was quoted as saying 'he could not understand how the train did not run over him'. And strewth, I can tell you there is something missing in the story as told by the Six O'clock news about what happened. Sorry Jack but your Uncle was a drunk, like a parrot up north. Either he was escaping another woman he was seeing or in his drunken state, he thought he could walk home through the tunnel. He did stupid things in his life. And that, god love him, is the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.’ Jacks father seemed such a happy man before but now in his tears Slim Lips, Penny and Jack are crying with him.
‘Dad, but if that is true, then why does Aunty Robin stay in Brisbane and not come up here and visit us? Aren't we her family anymore? And Nanna Sue has her son dead and no one gives a rats? Why?’
‘Son, there are things we don't know. Some things are better left alone. Secrets, lies, embarrassments, and why did someone marry? All things great and small are sometimes best left buried with the dead. You wanted an answer Jack and it was time for you to get it. Now, do you still want to play cricket, and how are you now with the bat?’
‘Dad, I want to be a quickie, the fastest, and break their toes. The fastest sand shoe crusher like Thommo. I have the height and last week at school I went with Pete to bowl to him for practice in the nets and I cleaned bowled him. He is their best batsman dad, and I clean bowled him twice. All right, thanks for telling me the truth about Uncle Bill and now I know. All right, mum, can I stay here today and go to the oval with Oscar. I think Uncle Bill is talking to me when I go to the oval. And you shut up Penny - it is what I feel - I think a lot and I have been thinking of trying out for the Under Fifteens as a bowler. My mates now call me the thunder from down under. If I can break a few toes bowling in the Under Fifteens I might get a look in for the Country game against City.’ Jack said as his mother is giving him a box of tissues.
‘Jack, do it - Nanna Sue said she would gather up and return the balls if you wanted to practice so I don't think she would worry if you were not there today. And Penny, if you utter one word of this at school or to your friend up the street, I will make sure you are punished well. And as far as these lists I wrote out - just read them and make sure you do it - cat tray emptied first thing - dog is let out at first light - dog poo picked up every day - and the fact we cannot afford to feed the things means we will have to tighten the belt a bit ourselves. The big green dictionary you both got for your birthday - where is it? Bring it out later and leave it where everyone can see and use it.’ Slim Lips was now crying as she spoke.
Now as these words are true and I affirm, I am a dog and I am crying... the emotional energy is overwhelming and I haven’t got a clue what it all meant...
‘Tweak and soften the emotions a bit Thalia.’
Ah –ah - I think this family is as mad as a cut snake. What about a bit of life in the party - maybe a fart - does the fact I am wanting adventure got anything to do with Bill croaking and turning his toes up on a railway track?
‘And Jack, my Abridged Aussie Slang Dictionary is there too - have a look under Ocker and see what we have with that dog called Oscar who is an Ocker Aussie Terrier- you can rename him Ocker Oscar if you want to Jack. He is a true blue Ocker and the book explains - there is the good and the bad Ocker. That is why I like to carry the book with me to the pub - as the poms say - a wink and a nod and say no more - eh Jack? Get the speed and then straighten em up - aim at a used soft drink can at full pelt mate - and make sure you wear steel caps in your batting shoes from now on.’
Oh this is what I love, to know I will be at the oval this arvo and maybe even a nice Australian Terrier will be there too for me to run around with. And off lead to boot.
Days of transcendence to ruminate upon? I don't think so. Excitements of a dog coming up soon at a book store near you. And that brings me back to the present. The Gift. What present am I to live for? Oh, past tense. Is past tents a camp or is a camp of tense past the tree? I would prefer it if I can get a half a sausage roll. Now is a then a when or is a when then it is a gift, or present. Oh this human speak is confusing. There must be an enticement, a lure, to be a future super dog. Do I get more burnt bacon? I think I am thinking. My brain hurts. Too much thinking is corrupting my data input or it will make my brain pop.
Clio, can you get history into acceptance of the past status? We have to get this sorted out before we implant a program into elephants. They have the longest memories. What Oscar is going through needs a solution because of his Poodle dog intelligence.
Calliope, if we can get a dog brain to change the perceptions of the past so that Oscar will not be so tense about past tense. Thalia, tweak the 'Perceptions of The Past' module with 'Mistakes -Benefits for the Future' and see if it remedies Oscar being tense and his fear of the unknown.
Oh, thank you Jack, a plate of scraps... I do think this is delightful.
‘Thalia - you have been warned - did you change Oscar's vocabulary?’ Clio asked.
‘No Clio, Oscar has troubles with the past. He cannot conceive that Socrates or Plato owned a dog. If we keep him in the present, Oscar can use the vernacular of the day. This in turn will help elephants too.’ Thalia answered.
Oh, mate, I can tell youse, I could eat the leg off a billiard table right now and all they offered me is a plate of measly scraps. Oh, where is that white cat? And I would love to see that bitch at the park again.
~~~
‘Oscar, would you like some more crispy bacon?’ Penny asks me.
Ah, now is the Pope a catholic? Am I a dog that wants more crispy bacon? Is there a more to amore or is love of burnt bacon singular? Maybe I just stare at Penny until she just gives it to me as she puts it in my dish. What a stupid question. Asking me if I want more bacon? I once ate so much bacon it became a vomit. I learnt then that humans do not like dogs vomiting their breakfast up onto the kitchen floor. So I ate it again. Ah, crispy bacon and I need to fart. To fart or not to fart - that is the question.
Just as I fart, Penny rings a bell. Why? Why does she need to ring a bell at the same time I fart? The bell again and in my haste to eat the crispy bacon, I fart again.
‘Jack, come here quick. Oscar’s a Pavlov's dog. When I ring the bell Oscar farts,’ Penny yells out.
As if I wanted that information announced to the world. Now Penny is ringing the bell and I am farting a tune she calls The Eighteen Twelve Overture. Jack is now in t
he room and I am the focus of attention with Slim Lips and father. I am getting more crispy bacon and the bell rings and I fart another tune. I am turning into a Fart-o-Holic. Oh, I know what they are doing. I hate farting. I will do the same to Penny and get her into trouble.
‘Thalia, this is crisis. Oscar is going too far. He is planning revenge and it was never in his program to be revengeful,’ Clio said.
‘Ron, I think this dog has to be outside. He is behaving very strange. Either he behaves and fits into this house or he is out,’ Slim Lips said, ‘I wrote a list out. He is supposed to be outside as soon as he wakes. Let us see if the people will take him back or see if mum wants him. Give him two weeks to fit in or he is out of this house for good. It was mum's idea to get the dog and cat. He is a nice dog as dogs go but we don’t want more troubles.’
Penny is laughing her head off and Jack cannot stop ringing a bell.
‘And you Ron have not helped. It is not the dog's problem but every time I tell youse what to do, you do the opposite.’ Slim Lips is crying and runs from the room. Here is my chance to be a hero and create a fartless society in Ozland. Jack runs after Penny. Their father Ron is standing scratching his head. No one wants me. Cat is under a chair and looks like it has seen a ghost. Cat is slowly looking at the door and then me. It appears Cat is saying something. I fart again. Oh, watch out - the door is opened and I hear that bell again - phfooft - another fart. The back door is closed behind me and the grass is long where I can eat some grass. The loneliness and solitude of being pushed aside. Swept under the carpet of life. I am but a toy, which moves on its own. Having to endure this bare backyard. Chooks in the shed, snails in the garden, a blue tongue lizard asleep in the sun, weeds along the fence. I need a shed to lay down in isolation. I will plan a way to get her into trouble she never knew possible. Perhaps instead of a bell ringing it is every time someone smiles Penny farts. Or both Penny and her mum. I deserve better. I am Oscar. I am not a dog to be tied to a post or locked into a yard. Where is my computer to enter the story Clio wants recorded as history of Oscar - Canine 127 Fitting Into Society?
~~~
Forget the family and say - hello Puter - I will practice daily writing of yesterday - or whenever - past tense is so tense and painful to me.
Select - program, click on Thought doc and a new page... “During my waken state I become aware. Dogs are supernatural and know things. Recording into my computer.... I am a dog. I feel the energies of happiness. A strong feeling is now getting stronger. Vibrations in the earth and smells on the wind.”
Ah Jack is in the backyard now. My tail is no longer limp. Uncontrollable urges sweep through my spine and my ears stick up, tail wags faster, with eyes and nose seeking. He knows I know he can say no when his mother asks – “Do you know?” Words, they mean things. I have understandings and it is no longer a panic. Oh, somehow I am not to be too repugnant or selfish. Oh, to be a dog with selfless abandonment caring for humans. Snakes I will kill to protect my human family. Magpies I will bark at to warn the humans of magpies swooping down to peck their eyes out and pull hairs out of their nose. I am a protector who is fearless when other dogs cringe and hide. My instincts as a dog will reveal threats to Jack and Penny.
‘Jack, is Oscar out the back with you?’ Penny calls out. ‘Mum said I can go to the oval with you with Oscar instead of going to Nanna Sues about Uncle Bill's service.’
‘I am down the backyard,’ Jack calls out, ‘I am practicing. Be with you in a tick. This new way of releasing the ball is wicked. So much more control the way I put my fingers down the seam.’
‘Oscar, if you come down to the oval today will you gather the balls for me?’
‘Yes Jack. I can go to the oval and sit on my khyber and be ready to attack little red balls.’
Fun, fun, fun. See how I go today with a possible Australian Terrier at the park. She lives up the street and a certain girl owns her who is a friend of Penny. Ah, now how can I get Jack to invite Penny's friend too. Wait, I have an idea.
‘Jack, Oscar is at the gate with his lead in his mouth,’ Penny calls out. ‘I will take him for walkies and see if he does his doggie doo before we go to the oval.’ Lead clipped on and out through the gate, we go and Penny and I are together. Penny looks resplendent in her joggers and my fur is superb after a quick brush. Penny brushed me. Oh, we do look spiffy.
Left, we have to go left Penny. I have a knowing now kiddo and we are - ah, there she is.
‘Hi Emma, you haven’t seen our new dog yet. His name is Oscar but we call him Ocker too because of dad. Ocker is the Aussie of Oscar. Hey, you have an Australian Terrier, what nickname do you have for him?’ Penny said.
‘Hello Penelope, he is a she and we don’t have a nickname for her. Her name is Lucky. My dad named her. He said someone had to get lucky and we did getting her. And, I saw Oscar at the park with Jack. Where are you going? We can go too if it is just for walkies?’ Emma said.
‘Jack and I are going to the oval today with Oscar and Jack is going to practice his bowling. He needs someone to gather the cricket balls so he can focus on run up and that dreaded crease. He says it is about not delivering a No Ball in his practice. Do you want to come down and help? You can bring Lucky too. With the gates shut, the dogs can be off lead. Do you want to?’
I will approach Lucky differently this time. The nose is first. Sniff, sniff, and a head to the side. Not too aggressive and with respect. Oh, Lucky does like me. Ok Lucky, no smelling of the anus? Oh well then, what about we just let you decide Lucky. Walkies, pull on your lead and head for the corner with me. Yes, we can tell them where we want to go. This is nice. Perhaps if we meet down the oval and we might get to have our own supply of water in a bowl.
‘See you down the oval but text first so I don't sit there waiting,’ Emma said.
‘Ok, and bring Lucky too.’
As we separate to go our ways, Lucky looks around at me as Emma is tugging at her lead. Lucky stares at me as she disappears beyond the gate and I am finally aware Penny wants to get this day finished.
‘Oscar, we will go to the oval and if that Emma causes anymore problems with Jack I will scream,’ Penny mumbles.
‘Jack, are you ready?’
‘Inside Penny, I have to finish the washing up. Mum and dad have left to go to Nanna Sue's.’
‘I will text Emma we will leave in thirty minutes and meet her at the oval. I saw her up the road walking her dog and she wants go too.’
‘Where is Emma? I thought you and Emma had a falling out. Are you sure she wants to be there? I want to practice not carry on about schoolteachers and rubbish. Did she say anything about the trouble with the headmaster?’
‘Forget it Jack, Emma was not the cause. Oh there she is Jack.’
~~~
Jack is walking to the middle of this huge arena thing. Long strides, running a few strides then looking at his footprints. Weird. I will say zip - naught - I know nothing stuff. Oh, look who is nearby and I never noticed with my nose. Come now, sneaking up on a fellow dog from downwind.
‘Hello Lucky, you look nice.’
You have been groomed. Well you could acknowledge I exist, couldn't you? Oh, so we are now friends Lucky. Stop jumping up on my shoulders. Oh well, if you insist. Let's run around awhile. Jack is busy practicing cricket and Emma and Penny are talking teen talk and now Lucky and I are off lead and off we go.
Lucky and I are free to run and play together. At first Lucky runs into my front shoulders and makes me topple over her. Now I pretend I am a warrior dog holding her by the throat and growling at her legs.
Oh, stop that Lucky. Well, it is pretend and stop knurling those fangs and biting so hard. Lucky, you are supposed to play not act like a stupid Terrier. I will bite your legs too, but harder and harder - stop biting me - Lucky - stop it.
I tell youse, if I was serious about this bitch I would chew her head off and feed her to the crows to eat her eyes out and then let birds come down and peck at her
flesh..... I do not want a stupid bitch as a friend.
‘Oscar, she might be a bitch but do not call her a bitch,’ said Calliope.
Oh, this is stupid, me a gallant dog and so ready to protect and be a hero to this bitch and all I get is - 'do not say that about a female dog' - yeh - I think we can eradicate this problem with a fart or two and I could tell youse - she is as interesting as a weed in a florist shop. I will terminate her forever one day.
I can and I will. Ignore her - yeh - that's what I will do until she comes to me begging for me to be her company and friend. I am going over to the other side of the oval and wait till I get home and be friends with the chooks and eat and drink with the flies.
No more of this rubbish recorded.
~~~
‘Thalia, Clio, and Calliope - the Head of Galaxy summons you. Bring with you Oscar in dematerialised form. Head of Galaxy has spared ten time sections to speak with the four of you. Head of Galaxies is taking over. You have failed to get the results needed in the formative programming.’
I hear a thought spoken to my muses and me.
‘Oscar, you are being taken to Head of Galaxy. You might not be here on Earth again. You must do exactly what is told you. First, you will have your collar removed. There are two parts to the journey. Stay still and we will envelope you and we will travel at rocket speed to the outer stratosphere. Then it is but a thought to go to the meeting place with Head of Galaxy. You will not be the first dog in space. But, you will be the first to meet 'one on one' with Head of Galaxy. All together and lift off,’ Clio said.
‘Oh, I think this is for a dog in a Science Fiction book - not me - I am searching for a society to fit into not going off into empty space. Oh yeh, go past the moon and turn left and wait for a set of traffic lights to appear.’