In mid-1970s Palermo, Sicily a litter of chihuahua puppies were born. One very special puppy loved his life there. He was called "Biscotti" by The Man and his Woman and Little Woman because of a thin white stripe down the middle of his little black face. The Man's Woman was kind to him. The Little Woman was very young and comparable to his own age. She may have been uncoordinated, a bit clumsy and void of grace. But she was as kind as she knew how to be and her adoration for him was plain and unhidden. This was his happy.
The puppy's sire went away from home a lot but spent wonderful quality time with his son and siblings when he returned. The sire was a fine example of an honorable dog who loved his bitchmate, the puppy's mother, and treated his offspring with respect.
The puppy heard sounds from The Man's mouth many times like "l'eroina meno" (less heroin), "prezzi alti" (high prices), "nessun denaro" (no money), and "non tenerà" (can't keep), but they were just sounds to him. He knew nothing of their confusing, yet articulate barkings.
The puppy loved to play with one particular fawn-colored brother named "Gonzo" by The Man and his family. He and Gonzo dreamed and yipped of being super-hero dogs when they grew up. They dreamed of being just like Krypto the Super Dog, or Ace the Bat Hound, or Gonzo even said he'd be happy if he could be like Dyno-Mutt the Dog Wonder someday. They wanted to be the greatest helpers to Mankind and Dogkind.
The favorite part of the puppy's day was when The Woman would reach down her big, soft, furless paw for him to climb onto. He knew it was his special time to nap while she held him. He was the only one of his siblings she would do that for. Eat soft food, drink water, take long naps in the furless paw of The Woman, play with The Little Woman, play with his brother, laugh, yip and wag his tiny tail became the happy order of his day.
One day his Papà ran into the dog box with great alarm. "My son!" he yapped. "Bad things are-a happening! Wherever you go I wanta you to remember these-a 10 things, okay?" Then the Chihuahua Capo pulled a small sign from under the studio piano and propped it up in front of the puppy. The puppy read:
The favorite part of the puppy's day was when The Woman would reach down her big, soft, furless paw for him to climb onto. He knew it was his special time to nap while she held him. He was the only one of his siblings she would do that for. Eat soft food, drink water, take long naps in the furless paw of The Woman, play with The Little Woman, play with his brother, laugh, yip and wag his tiny tail became the happy order of his day.
One day his Papà ran into the dog box with great alarm. "My son!" he yapped. "Bad things are-a happening! Wherever you go I wanta you to remember these-a 10 things, okay?" Then the Chihuahua Capo pulled a small sign from under the studio piano and propped it up in front of the puppy. The puppy read:
"No one can present himself directly to another of our friends. There must be a third dog to do it.
"Never look at the bitchmates of friends.
"Never be seen with cops.
"Don't go to pubs and clubs.
"Always being available for Cosa Nostra di Cane is a duty - even if your bitchmate is about to give birth.
"Appointments must absolutely be respected.
"Bitchmates must be treated with respect.
"When asked for any information, the answer must be the truth.
"Money cannot be appropriated if it belongs to others or to other families.
"People who can't be part of Cosa Nostra di Cane: anyone who has a close relative in the police, anyone with a two-timing relative in the family, anyone who behaves badly and doesn't hold to moral val ues."
" I don't understand. What does this mean, Papà?"
"You will understand in time, my son." Just then The Man picked up the puppy's father and walked out of the room with him.
"Aldo!!", the puppy's mother howled. "What's going on?! Where is he taking you?"
"I love you, Lola!" he yelled back to her over The Man's shoulder.
The puppy's heart broke. He knew whatever this was it was bad. He had a very bad idea he would never see Papà again. Ever. "Mamma?" he turned to look up to her.
"I don'ta know, my babies! Biscotti, your papà would have me tell you to obey the code, be honorable, faithful, helpa those who are less fortunate than you and always defenda what you believe!"
"The code?" That's when the unthinkable happened. The Man came back into the room, stood over the puppy, picked him up, put him in a doggie jail that The Man would carry and take him away from his family. "MAMMA!!" he screamed through the bars looking at his mother's sad but unbarking face. "I don't want to leave!!"
The feeling of having no control over his life or body whatsoever paralyzed him into a petrified fear as he seemed to fly wildy back and forth above the hard ground. His jail was finally set down inside another, much bigger jail with 4 round things on it's bottom that made it go from one place to another. It made a very loud, scary rumbling noise whether in motion or not. He could look up through the bars and see part of the sunshiny sky. Oh, how he wished he could have some of that sunshine inside him at the moment.
Then the big rolling jail finally stopped and The Man got out and picked up the puppy's jail and resumed the sickening and frightening flying motion. "I'm a super dog!" he told himself. "I'll fly to rescue people someday. Must get... used... to... flying..." He knew no other way to fight the fear of his unknown.
Suddenly he felt a shift in motion. Then he could actually see The Man's face through the bars. His jail was in the grasp of another Man! Why? He heard The Man speak his gibberish again to the other. "Make sure he gets to the address on the door. Brooklyn, New York. He's gettin' a new owner."
"Yeah. Whatevah," replied the New Man and turned and carried the puppy's jail on a long walk, part of which overlooked some water. Finally he was set down in a very dark room with few tiny round windows.The puppy saw the New Man tear something off the jail door; a piece of paper like his Papà had made him read, only smaller. "Sail away, puppy dog!" blared the New Man as he left the big dark room.
Scared, separated from his family, lonely, and crushed, the puppy heard the long, deep drone of a horn as he felt a slight motion slowly going upward, then downward, over and over. His sire was right. This was bad. With nary an idea why, he was without his loved ones, or where he even was. This was depressing. He had no control over any part of his life's destiny. So he thought.
"Never look at the bitchmates of friends.
"Never be seen with cops.
"Don't go to pubs and clubs.
"Always being available for Cosa Nostra di Cane is a duty - even if your bitchmate is about to give birth.
"Appointments must absolutely be respected.
"Bitchmates must be treated with respect.
"When asked for any information, the answer must be the truth.
"Money cannot be appropriated if it belongs to others or to other families.
"People who can't be part of Cosa Nostra di Cane: anyone who has a close relative in the police, anyone with a two-timing relative in the family, anyone who behaves badly and doesn't hold to moral val ues."
" I don't understand. What does this mean, Papà?"
"You will understand in time, my son." Just then The Man picked up the puppy's father and walked out of the room with him.
"Aldo!!", the puppy's mother howled. "What's going on?! Where is he taking you?"
"I love you, Lola!" he yelled back to her over The Man's shoulder.
The puppy's heart broke. He knew whatever this was it was bad. He had a very bad idea he would never see Papà again. Ever. "Mamma?" he turned to look up to her.
"I don'ta know, my babies! Biscotti, your papà would have me tell you to obey the code, be honorable, faithful, helpa those who are less fortunate than you and always defenda what you believe!"
"The code?" That's when the unthinkable happened. The Man came back into the room, stood over the puppy, picked him up, put him in a doggie jail that The Man would carry and take him away from his family. "MAMMA!!" he screamed through the bars looking at his mother's sad but unbarking face. "I don't want to leave!!"
The feeling of having no control over his life or body whatsoever paralyzed him into a petrified fear as he seemed to fly wildy back and forth above the hard ground. His jail was finally set down inside another, much bigger jail with 4 round things on it's bottom that made it go from one place to another. It made a very loud, scary rumbling noise whether in motion or not. He could look up through the bars and see part of the sunshiny sky. Oh, how he wished he could have some of that sunshine inside him at the moment.
Then the big rolling jail finally stopped and The Man got out and picked up the puppy's jail and resumed the sickening and frightening flying motion. "I'm a super dog!" he told himself. "I'll fly to rescue people someday. Must get... used... to... flying..." He knew no other way to fight the fear of his unknown.
Suddenly he felt a shift in motion. Then he could actually see The Man's face through the bars. His jail was in the grasp of another Man! Why? He heard The Man speak his gibberish again to the other. "Make sure he gets to the address on the door. Brooklyn, New York. He's gettin' a new owner."
"Yeah. Whatevah," replied the New Man and turned and carried the puppy's jail on a long walk, part of which overlooked some water. Finally he was set down in a very dark room with few tiny round windows.The puppy saw the New Man tear something off the jail door; a piece of paper like his Papà had made him read, only smaller. "Sail away, puppy dog!" blared the New Man as he left the big dark room.
Scared, separated from his family, lonely, and crushed, the puppy heard the long, deep drone of a horn as he felt a slight motion slowly going upward, then downward, over and over. His sire was right. This was bad. With nary an idea why, he was without his loved ones, or where he even was. This was depressing. He had no control over any part of his life's destiny. So he thought.
...to be continued...
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