Prince by Edward Drobinski - HTML preview
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Chapter 6
Polly was so excited at the thought of a canine companion and no cell phone that she was unable to sleep during the night, entertaining dreams of all the adventures she would have with a dog. Her imaginative young mind conjured up visions of the duo doing things that she had only seen in movies and on television, as this was to be her first real pooch. She fancied going to mountains, hills, forests, deserts and beaches, despite her reality of living in a development that bordered the Bosque and that would be the limits of their daily travels. The housing subdivision contained about fifty houses situated on approximately one acre each and the Corrales Bosque was a thin strip of generally wooded land, no more than 500 feet wide at its broadest point, bordering the Rio Grande River. The once mighty river was now much smaller and shallower than when it was named prior to many housing developments, like her own, being built. This had its advantages in some respects, as it now contained many well-vegetated islands that one could get to by wading through the river, which was generally no more than three feet deep. Of course, one could be surprised by a sudden drop-off, but Polly considered the risk one worth taking as the prize would be total privacy, as none of the locals were sufficiently adventurous to make the excursion. Besides, if she hit one of
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the deep spots he could swim and pull her the few feet necessary to get back to shallow water.
Polly realized that she unconsciously called her companion a “he.” “Hmmm,” she thought, as she wondered if that was just a meaningless way of phrasing her ideas, or if it suggested more.
An average psychologist would be able to clock up hours of questions and conversation with that inroad. While she considered the illumination afforded by the “professionals”
worthy of quaint, idle chit-chat in dull moments, right now she thought that she would rather deal with substantive realities, like the depth of the water.
She did want her new companion to be capable of heroism and she saw heroes are depicted in contemporary entertainment media as being overwhelmingly male. Still, she had seen countless episodes of “Lassie,” and that girl was sure enough up to her stuff. She theorized that her experience was limited to the fantasies of screenwriters, but was temporarily stuck with that because she had not yet met any real life heroes of either sex.
Of course her parents were kind of heroes to her, as who else would have the ability to put up with her willfulness and craziness without flipping out, but that was an even split. The rest were just a lot of ordinary people. She intended to find a companion suitable to her, with the ability and desire to protect her and look at its crotch afterward.
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Polly was still restlessly moving around in bed, when the sun she was anxiously awaiting finally made its unobstructed presence known in her east facing open window. Polly was thrilled to see the beginning of her anticipated interesting and fateful day. This was going to be a huge decision, its effects going on for years. She suspected that even though she would be the human most involved with the dog, that she would not be the only human having input into its selection, unless she was resolute and a bit cunning. She wasn’t yet sure if she would be ambivalent and like a few different dogs. That would make things easy, as no doubt her folks would approve of one of them.
But, what if she had a special fondness for just one? And what if her folks had some semi-valid objection? Easy, she would throw a little fit. That’s all there was to it. However, using this approach she realized that if anything ever goes wrong with the dog, it will be her fault and her fault only. Polly reflected on that a bit and came up with; “So what? At least I get what I want. That’s the main thing.” She thought she had her act choreographed. She changed from her Smokey the Bear jammies into well-worn blue jeans and a gray University of New Mexico sweatshirt, went downstairs to the empty kitchen and sat there itching to take on all comers.
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Prince was not ready to take on all comers as he was sound asleep in his unlocked cage, exhausted from a full night of extended play and frivolity. He didn’t hear Debby enter and contentedly stretched in the sun provided by her opening of the blinds.
All the dogs were lethargic, surprising Debby, as she was accustomed to being greeted by anxious animals frantically calling for a quick walk, food, or both. Her first thought was concern for their health and she made a mental note to later call some local vets and see if she could make one of them feel guilty and heroic and get him to make a call free of charge. To expedite her efforts, she wished that she were in on the local gossip, as whichever vet was having marital difficulties would probably be the easiest one to get out of the house on Saturday.
She said a quick hello to each as she briefly stopped at their cages, noting that, just as yesterday, the locks were not fastened. She snapped them shut and the dogs stretched out and then again relaxed, re-closing their eyes, as if to say; “Don’t bug me this early.” She concluded that one of the volunteers must be walking them, as most have keys and, as yesterday, they must have neglected to sign the log.
Prince drifted back off to sleep and to spoil the otherwise pleasant day, he dreamed that he was back at the dog fighting compound. He was in the center of the barren field surrounded
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by four of the operators. They were pointing at him, saying things indecipherable to him that they must have considered amusing, evidenced by their perpetual grins and the occasional short wicked bursts of laughter, which had nothing to do with good humor. They showed their respect by wearing heavily padded sleeves and were intently watching what he would do, as they knew he could be dangerous if provoked. Prince knew something was coming and he wished that the “brave” men didn’t always have to show up in crowds, as he would have liked to take any of them on one on one. Despite his size disadvantage he had accumulated enough savage hatred to go maniacally berserk and was supremely confident that none of the drunken slobs would stand a chance alone. Maybe they knew that too and it might be the reason they always needed the safety of a gang. To Prince, most humans were merely vicious, useless cowards, with a bloodlust unmatched anywhere else on earth. He would love to have put one out of its misery and spit on the corpse.
“Diablo” Conde, the most drunken of today’s gang and the least embarrassed to take self-aggrandizing nicknames, showed Prince the stick he was carrying. It was something like a cop’s baton and he smacked Prince in the face with it, hard enough to draw some bleeding from the champ’s mouth. Upon tasting his own blood, drawn only for the perverse pleasure of the group, Prince lost all sense of rationality and didn’t care if there were four
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of them. He went for the baton and easily pulled it away from the inebriated bum and then went for him. He was smart enough to ignore the padded arms, as he had been through that routine on previous occasions and knew that it wouldn’t do him any good.
He went for Diablo’s leg, sunk his teeth into his thigh and started to twist his head around tearing as much flesh as possible, as his companions backed away. Diablo fell to the ground and Prince let go of his grip, planning to go for the neck that was now within his reach. He felt a leather muzzle pulled onto his snout from behind. It was the principal owner of the hell hole, “Hatchet Man,” and he was in no mood for any nonsense. His muscular dark brown body, created by years of serious weight lifting, was easily strong enough to hold Prince back, utilizing the heavy chain attached to the muzzle, now securely in place. Prince thought that the game was over and closed his eyes, expecting to be crowned with the club.
Hatchet Man yelled out angry words Prince believed were directed at him and he thought; “If you want to kill me, kill me. I don’t want to hear your garbage.” But, in actuality, he was yelling at the inept gang of four, saying; “You jerks best leave this dog alone. He’s worth a lot of money to me.” He disdainfully looked at the distraught group, sneered and said;
“Besides, it looks like he can kick your ass.” He reached down with one hand and roughly petted Prince’s head and for the first
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time the dog suspected that he had some sort of an ally. He directed his conversation at Diablo, who was now on his feet wearing blood soaked pants, socks and shoes and calmly said; “I know you are mad. But, nobody told you to mess with my dog.
And if anything happens to him I’m going to hold you responsible, so you best hope my boy stays in real good health.
You understand me?”
Diablo quickly nodded affirmatively and said; “Yah, boss.”
Hatchet Man looked to the others who too started furiously nodding.
Hatchet Man said; “Now, get out of here.” When the gang moved slowly Hatchet Man let Prince have some leash and the fighting dog jerked toward them, growling, as they quickly picked up speed and the boss laughed.
Prince looked up at his benefactor, not understanding what went on or was said, but thinking that he had some sort of powerful protector in Hatchet Man. But, if he aligned himself with him, wasn’t this akin to a slave paying respect to his captor? Some kind of duplicity was necessitated. He wished someone would explain the rules of this retarded game to him, but realized that this was impossible. For the time being, Prince knew that whatever was just said, seemingly in his favor, he would have to be wary of possible revenge sought by Diablo
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when Hatchet Man wasn’t around, as the pup had no way of reporting an incident, still unable to speak English.
Shaken, Prince woke as the door slammed and he jumped up ready for some kind of a confrontation. His eyes were alert and unblinking, his brain flashed nothing but red, then scarlet, then blood and his ears became dominated by the thunderous pulsation of demanding war drums. His rigid gaze turned to the direction of the noise, exposed fangs drooling. He did a double take and was glad no one saw his performance. He was relieved and ecstatic to see his long-haired friend Marian and despite his extremely limited rest period, hoped she would take him for another walk. No matter how much he yearned for complete freedom, he knew that his life was dramatically improved over what it once was, as soon as he saw her.
Marian looked his way and called out; “Debby, how is my bad boy behaving?”
“Fine, I guess. They’re all more interested in sleeping today. They can’t get in much trouble that way. Tell me, are you coming in here at night to walk the dogs?”
“No. I wish I could. Why?”
“The last two days I came in I found the cage locks open and I know I didn’t leave them that way.”
Marian grimaced and inquired; “Were they on the loose?”
“No, that makes it doubly strange.”
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Marian shrugged, thinking there were larger issues with which to be concerned, mainly finding homes for them and said;
“No harm, no foul. At least that’s what my basketball playing friend tells me.”
Debby made an aborted attempt at a laugh and it came out a snort. She said; “Are you going to take your favorite out again?”
“I don’t work today, so this is the perfect time for it.
If he gets pig-headed, I’ve got all day to be just as pigheaded.”
“Don’t forget about the others.”
“I’ll get them eventually. They’re all sound asleep, except for Prince, anyway.” She pointed at him, looked in his direction and added; “Look at that happy face and his tail is going like a helicopter.”
From her tone, Prince knew that she was saying something nice about him and that made him even more enthusiastic to get going. He scratched at the cage bars and made a plea that sounded like a high pitched “Oooooh.”
Marian was intrigued with this puppy, as there seemed to be something different about him. He could surprise her. She had more than a score of dogs throughout her life and had volunteered to walk countless others, but they were always predictable. The stubborn ones were always stubborn. The
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docile ones were always docile. This guy could go strongly one way, but if he sensed that this was not desired by his mate, he could go just as strongly in the other direction. So far it was a manageable situation, though it was impossible to tell who was in charge. Squale thought that he was and Prince would have no part of that, but when she stubbornly sat with him, feeling dismayed, he seemed to pick up on that and did her bidding. Was this the impossibility proclaimed by “The Dog Tamer,” a bow-wow capable of co-operation? She had more time to find out this morning. During the course of her reverie she was absently staring at him and he was thinking; “Come on, already!!!”
Marian retrieved her long leash from the pocket of her light blue quilted jacket and called out to Debby; “I’m off.”
She kneeled, opened Prince’s gate and fastened it to his deep blue leather collar, with difficulty, as he was happily bathing her pale facial skin with his drizzling tongue. She was tickled, started to laugh and licked him back. He was enjoyably surprised, did a curious double take and decided to increase his efforts.
Debby saw the dual display and warned; “Be careful he doesn’t take out a chunk.”
Marian stood up, wrinkled her brow and retorted; “I’m not the least bit worried. Look at that happy face and wagging tail.”
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Given her cautious nature, Debby was compelled to make one more remark and said; “Don’t spoil him, unless you’re prepared to take him full time.”
Prince pulled Marian to the front door, extending her arm socket. When she opened it he burst into the parking lot and then came to a full stop. He looked around at the parked cars and the brutal paving, then up at her. He had not been here before and was disappointed at the ground’s coarse rigidity.
His eyes said; “Take me somewhere else,” which she understood and led him to the back of the facility, where they were greeted by gentle dirt, grass, trees and bushes, busily working on their spring growth. Prince’s paws more at ease, he again surged ahead. Marian tried to keep up with him and soon saw that to do so would dictate her becoming a runner, thereby limiting their excursion to one minute. She correctly believed that both of them wanted a longer trip, so she held the leash with both hands and stopped him. He looked back at her questioningly.
She said; “I am going to walk as fast as I possibly can, but I will not break into a trot.”
Prince wished he knew what she was saying. It seemed to him that she was all gung ho for this and now she was fooling him by showing some kind of hesitation.
Marian said; “Take your time. Nothing moves here. It’ll be there when we get there.”
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Prince knew little more than he previously did, except that his friend had stopped. He looked at her to see if he could detect any anger. When he didn’t he again started to move, this time more slowly, but still at a pace which required Marian to walk faster than usual. She liked the speed as it necessitated her concentrating on the hazards in the road and trying to anticipate Prince’s movements to the exclusion of all else, a mindless adventure.
As soon as he got to the ditch he went down the embankment, drank and swam. He liked the cool, muddy water and wanted to spend some time there. He looked up at Marian to see her reaction. She smiled and nodded her head “Yes,” giving approval he understood, as she didn’t at all mind the opportunity to remain substantially motionless for a spell. Prince took his time and investigated the grassy plants sprouting at the edges, sniffing the aromatic growths. After he was thoroughly soaked, he climbed straight up the slippery siding, utilizing his hind paws for traction and balance and his front ones for progress, innovatively coordinating the two essentials.
He marched a few steps before shaking off, not wanting to get Marian drenched, as he surmised that if she desired a pre-warm weather soaking she would have followed him into the ditch.
They walked down the path, at times diverting into the limited supply of surrounding brush, as Prince seemed bound to seek out
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every fragrance he had not yet known. He didn’t find anything that kept his interest very long and he gradually picked up speed, because Marian voiced no objections. He sometimes heard a murmur of “Whoops,” when they were in tall dead weeds, she temporarily losing her footing on some unseen rock or tiny piece of tree branch. While in the brush he felt his neck jerked and heard her persuasively say; “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” which reminded him of someone singing the blues. However, he couldn’t imagine a singer jerking his neck, so he slowed down and looked back.
He saw her laboring through a series of dead branches he had just managed with ease, so he again commenced walking briskly.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” he heard again and he petulantly wondered what the huge problem was. Marian sensed his attitude and with a crabby sound, said in exasperation; “I can’t go fast through this junk!”
Prince knew none of the words, but he understood his friend’s tone to be saying “Slow down.” He sighed and did
................... for a few steps and then he went back off to the races ................ for a few steps. His collar pressed against his wind pipe and he furiously turned around to see Marian shaking her head “No.” He took a quick survey of the immediate surroundings and didn’t see any good reason for being thwarted. His eyes opened widely and he thought; “You’re
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fortunate that I like you. If you were Diablo you’d be getting an education in the possible placements of dog teeth.”
Marian’s lifetime of experience with dogs enabled her to make a reasonable estimate of Prince’s posture. She didn’t fear any reprisal and calmly said; “Sometimes you are just going to have to trust me and behave accordingly. At least some degree of socialization is required.”
Prince was baffled. If he were able to decipher her words he would still be baffled. It would have sounded like something a school teacher says, which compels kids to look at each other with raised eyebrows and shrug their shoulders. But, he knew from the look on her face that she meant well and just maybe there are things important in the human world that he would never be able to understand. He trusted his walking companion and appreciated their journeys. The fury lost, he looked at her with an inquiring expression and stood still.
She again began moving her feet and he followed, staying a bit behind. All too soon they came to the end of the ditch path and they were confronted with paved roads with cars speeding down them. Prince stopped moving. Marian didn’t notice as she was watching cars and as a result she was jerked to an abrupt stop. She didn’t think that Prince would have any problem with the area, but soon suspected that he was a real country boy.
His sheltered existence had not provided him with the experience
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of being near the rumbling of cars doing 50 miles per hour on a highway three lanes in each direction. She understood that this must be quite an intimidating sight when seen for the first time. She couldn’t be certain, but what else could have caused Prince to not want to move and move quickly. To him they must look like speeded-up dinosaurs belching smoke from internal fires.
He attempted to turn back and Marian defiantly sat down.
Prince was shocked, but also amused at the sight of this sixty year old woman sitting at the end of the dirt path, in full view of the passengers in the bellies of the dinosaurs. He thought;
“How undignified! What if someone she knows sees her? Wait a minute. What’s gotten into me? How very cool.” He sat next to her and shivered, but wanted to appear to be somewhat near her bravery level, while hoping for the parade’s end. She ignored him and watched the demons race by. After a few minutes Prince decided that the bigger, stronger, faster, creatures enclosed in diversely shaped and colored armor were not out to get him, thinking that if that were their goal, they could easily have attained it by now. He looked at Marian and stood up. She joined him and started to move closer to the monsters. He remained stationary, not yet ready to attempt a closer relationship with the smelly fiends. She stopped, saw his mixed
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feelings and gently said; “They’re not interested in you. Trust me.”
Prince didn’t want to turn back, but he thought that what he saw in front of him left a lot to be desired. Marian chided him, saying; “I’ll get in front. If they want to hit someone they’ll get me first.” Prince didn’t know her words, but took their meaning from her action and he was embarrassed. He wanted to tell her that he was a big, brave boy, but was not yet ready to prove that with his own action. She slightly moved and Prince cautiously trailed behind, hoping that she thought his effort to be “pretty good.” They walked down a paved sidewalk, no more than thirty feet from the nearest speeding cars. Their intense sound level amplified and Prince knew that his safety depended entirely on his trust of Marian. He hoped she was capable of making refined judgments. After going about 200 feet with monsters on one side and an adobe wall on the other, which he thought must have taken an hour, the path magically widened.
Appearing on the side of the pavement was unfenced land. It allowed him to get another fifty feet away from the highway, ending at a severe, unexplainable twenty foot drop off. It appeared as if someone once started to gouge out land as in a strip mining operation, but quickly changed their minds, as Prince could see land beyond it at his level. And that land was full of trees!!! He instinctively sensed unlimited and
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unspoiled nature he never previously witnessed, unimproved by mankind, piercing the cloudless blue sky. No clearings for malls, houses or fighting arenas. Wildness reigned. He picked up speed and got back in front.
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