A Scrappy Tale - Recreation Period

     The Woman opened the dog jail door and herded the small puppies out closing the door behind them. The puppy ran with the pack looking all around the huge, hard, white-painted concrete-walled room. “Ace! Are we free?!”

     Ace chuckled as they ran. “Don’t I wish,” was his disappointing reply. “It’s outdwoor twime. I cawll mawrking da roseberry bush foist!” he barked to all. A solid door opened at the end of the room through which they ran outside. The air was much thicker and foul-smelling compared to the villa the puppy used to live on. The land was darker and dirtier and looked unforgiving with so many brick and concrete buildings so close together. If not for the big grass yard with trees and bushes he would have found it unacceptable. And the temperature was very high, being late June. By the time he reached the roseberry bush with Ace he was very hot and began panting as he hiked his right rear leg and emptied himself.

     “’Ey, yooze!” Ace yapped. “Race-a yooze to da maple tree! Last one there is a Dawminic! Ha! Ha ha!” Of course Zippy arrived first and instigator Ace was the very last to arrive. “Ah ha!” they all laughed and hopped around Ace. “You’re a Dawminic! You’re a joik! Ha ha ha!” It was good for the puppy to socialize and have fun again.

     The puppy heard giggling from behind him. He turned to see a dark brown Pekingese girlpuppy looking right at him. “Hi”, she said intently.

     He bowed his head in embarrassment. “Hi,” he yapped back sheepishly.

     “I ain’t seen you heah bafwore. You just get in last nwight?”

    “Yeah,” he said demurely.

    “You’re cute!” she said batting her big brown eyes with an eager wag. He just bowed his head again. He could hardly look her in the eyes. “My name’s Daizey.”

     As Chihuahuas do, he bowed down with his rump in the air and made like he was crawling forward on the ground with his front legs and stretching his head forward.

     “ROAFFF!!!” came the bone-rattling sound of Dominic’s pubescent but still big bark from right behind the puppy’s head. He spun and set himself to run or fight if he had to. “Heh heh heh heh heh.” The bigger dog leaned forward and almost whispered, “Whawddaya gwunna do ta me? Beat me up? Ha ha ha ha ha ha haaah!” Isolated from his new friends the pup could see them watching from well-behind the Doberman. “Chihuahuas’re stoopid!” he yelled. “When I grow up my poo will be bigga ‘dan you evvah will be! Ha ha ha ha haaah!” Then he looked at Daizey and barked, “You in love, huh? Let’sa see iffa ya fawll in love widda broken dawg.”

     In a swift motion he turned and clamped his jaw on the puppy’s left front leg. The puppy screamed as pain burned through his entire leg. He hopped on his other 3 legs not daring to let the injured one touch the ground. Dominic turned toward Daizey who watched with a look of unbelief. “You’re stoopid too ‘cawze you’re a goil! Now gittouta heah!” Daizey ran into the girls’ puppy house and shook in fear, watching from the doorway. He looked down at the howling puppy and snarled, “I own you, Tiny!”

     The Woman attendant came running out to investigate. She wrapped something around Dominic’s neck and led him away speaking very harshly to him all the while. By the time she returned for him the puppy was only whimpering but still aching severely and lying on his right side to protect it from being bumped to aggravate it.

     He did notice she picked him up with both hands unlike The Man’s Woman back home who only needed one. He had just realized he was bigger than he used to be. But he was still tiny. She lifted him up and carried him unapologetically back to the dog-jail cell and set him on the dog bed in Ace’s corner. She propped him so that his injured leg hung down into a bowl of warm water. The warmth of the water began to calm and soothe his jangled nerves. Then she closed the door and shortly brought his friends back in.

...to be continued...

A Scrappy Tale - Friends

     The puppy slept well for several hours until he felt large teeth pick him up by the neck and throw him against the bars again. “Time ta wake up, Tiny! Aah ha ha ha ha ha!” barked Dominic. The puppy yelped as he landed on the floor. He stay still, lying on his side, trying to let the shock of the pain run its course through his still tender, undeveloped body. Dominic walked over to him, bent his face right in front of the puppy’s, then glared and quietly growled. The puppy looked at him from the corners of his eyes. He was filled with fear mixed with a growing anger and hatred of the bully. These were emotions he’d really never experienced before; not like this.

     Dominic finally said, “You gawt 2 minutes ta eata ya breakfast!” then turned and walked to his secret spot in the shadows. The puppy hurried to a newly filled bowl and began to eat. Now he was obsessed with wishing the Doberman would stop mistreating him. He thought about it with each bite of food. After five hurried mouthfuls of puppy food had been swallowed Dominic picked him up and threw him against the bars again. The puppy looked up, sighing in frustration as he watched Dominic eat all the remainder of the food. Dominic turned to face the puppy, licking his face, then laughed at him derisively and returned to his shadowy hideout.

     Ace cautiously approached the young chihuahua and whispered, “Pssst, you okay, kid?” The puppy looked up, then laid his head back down sighing. “’Ey, come ovah heah. Canyuh get up okay? Ya hoit bad?”

     “Nah,” the puppy replied heavily hoisting his little frame off the floor. “I’m getting used to it.” He followed Ace to another corner of the dog jail. It was dark enough for privacy but not quite as dark as Dominic’s. When his eyes adjusted to the surroundings he saw a large bed with 3 other pups in it. Ace grabbed a corner of a blanket to reveal a small stash of food hidden underneath.

    

“Eat very quietly,” Ace warned. “Don’t cruncha da food or ‘dat fwour-legged calawstomy bag’ll heah ya, and ‘den it’s lwights out fwor awlla us, huh?” The puppy did so, lying down by the few morsels and slowly digesting them, allowing them to get soggy in his mouth before swallowing. “We sneaka some ovah heah evary day bafwor he wakes up,” Ace continued. “It’sa how we suhvive inna heah. So, whawt’sa ya name, kid?”

Ace - Scrappy's First Friend

    “My mamma & papa’s Master awlways called me ‘Biscotti’,” he softly replied.

     “Biscotti?!” Ace laughed. “You serious? A cookie? Lem’me guess. Bacawza ya face looksa like an Oreo?” Ace very cautiously chuckled not loud enough to bother Dominic. “Kid, meeta ma friends. Mawrco.”

     A small brown spaniel puppy nodded saying, “Buongiorno.”

     “Delbert”, Ace softly announced.

     A beagle puppy bowed his head and said, “Duuuuuh, ‘ey! How yoo doowin?”

     “And Zippy, he’s fastah ‘dan awll of us,” Ace concluded.

     A young greyhound puppy threw his head upward whispering, “Yo!”

     “Hi, guys,” the puppy answered wagging his curly tail. “Ace, where am I?”

     “Da Brawnx.”

     “Da Brawnx?”

     “Yeah. You inna fawstah puppy home; a castaway jail. Da Man cawlls it a kennel. We wait fwor wunna Da Man ta take-a us home an’ hope-a ‘dey love us. We’s inna a big section of Noo Ywoark City.”

     “New Ywoark City?!!” the puppy exclaimed.

     “Shhhhh!” Ace vigorously waved his paw down. “Nawt so loud!” he hissed. “Why so suhprised, huh? Where ya from?” he asked.

     “Palermo, Sicily.”

     “I knew it,” Marco said as if to say “I told you so". "I smelled Italia awll ovah ya when ‘dey tawssed ya inna heah last nwight. Saluti, fratello!”

     “’Ey! I’ll be yer friend but don’t you ever call me Italian!” the puppy bristled. “My family and our masters may have given our obedience to Italy but not our hearts. We’ll always insist we are Sicilians to the bone! I may not know much but I know that!”

     “Will yooze two stifle it, huh?” Ace scolded again. “Iffa yooze don’t keepa it down yooze gwonna end up injured or dead. ‘Den it won’t mattah where yooze froms.” He looked at the puppy and whispered, “We wawnna helpa ya stay safe, huh? But we gawtta wawtch eacha othahs’ backs, you dig?”

     “Definitely”, the puppy replied.

     “Huddle up, heah. Listen. We been tawlkin’…”

...to be continued... 

A Scrappy Tale - The Detention

     How long he'd been stuck inside the little dog jail he was no longer aware. It had actually been 4 days and 3 nights but all the puppy knew was he was bored, unhappy, and confused. Sometimes the monotony would be broken by a different Man who brought him a small bowl of hard food. He didn't eat the first day. His stomache finally got to him on the next. He ate just enough to stop the discomfort in his tummy. He saw the new Man come in a little earlier than usual one day. Instead of shoving a bowl of food into the jail he picked the jail up and so began another air-journey for the puppy.

     He'd been shoved into a very big rolling-jail with lots of other dog jails inside each housing a barking animal. The stench of all those dogs filled his sensitive nostrils and almost made him gag. When the ride finally stopped his jail was once again picked up by another strange Man and carried inside a building full of dog jails holding many loud, barking inmates.

     His jail door opened and a large, rugged, furless paw reached inside and grasped him. He was pulled out and dropped a short distance to a hard, concrete floor. He looked around to see he was inside a dog jail 10 times the size of the last one. Five other puppies sat in the middle of the cell looking at him. He saw three bowls containing solid food. He immediately ran to one without a thought. He started eating, chewing and swallowing and finally felt like there was some hope in life after all. 

     The puppy was finally happy again. The food was plentiful and he was hungry! From right behind his head he was stunned by a very loud "ROAFFF!" He turned to see a teen aged Doberman Pinscer pup staring at him with with how-dare-you anger in his eyes. Where did this one come from? He wasn't one of the five he saw a minute ago. How did he get in here? The Doberman leaned nose-to-nose toward the puppy and asked, "Did I say you could eat?"

     "No," the puppy answered.

     "I'm Dominic. I run 'dis joint, see? You don'ta eat until I saya you can, capice?" Then Dominic bit the puppy's left front paw. The puppy yelped and limped away. He was angry when Dominic turned around to the other puppies and said, "Yooze c'n eat. Hurry up bafwore I change-a ma mind, huh? Yeah." Four of the other pups hopped to the bowls and ate as fast as they could while the puppy nursed his throbbing paw in the corner of the jail. One of the five approached him and sat beside him. 


     "You a chihuahua, ain'tcha?" he asked looking directly at him.
     "Yeah. I think so," the puppy said.
     "Ma name's Ace. I'm a Dawchsund. Ya know... from Geoimany?" The puppy said nothing. He was in pain, scared, and mad that Dominic got away with his unprovoked crime.  "Two woids of advice," Ace whispered. "Do whawtevah he says, and nevvah, evvah tawlk back to 'im, gawt it? 'Dat'sa ya ticket ta livin' da next day around heah, huh? Yeah."


     Dominic swaggered up to the puppy, grabbed him in his mouth by the neck and dropped him into a bowl of food. "You gawt 60 seconds ta eat dinna, runt!" he yelled. The puppy began eating as fast as he could. Every few seconds he would be startled by Dominic barking, "ROAF!" right behind his head, then laughing. "Awlright! 'Dat's enough," he yelled. He picked the puppy up again and threw him against the chain link jail wall. As the puppy fell to the floor hard enough to knock the air out of his little lungs he heard Dominic yell at him, "Hey, punk! Are you a real dawg ya mawmma had or awre you da aftaboith 'dat lived? Aaah ha-ha-ha-ha haaah!" Then Dominic disappeared into a dark corner of the dog prison.

Dominic the Doberman

     The puppy lie down in a corner of the the dog prison all by himself and closed his eyes. Where was Krypto the Superdog when you needed him? Why didn't a superhero dog really exist? How many other puppies out there were wondering the same thing from a same situation? He wished he was super. He wished he was big and strong enough to beat Dominic up and teach him not to be mean to little dogs. Finally able to breathe again he stewed in anger as he dreamed about being a flying, bully-beating super chihuahua. He dreamed about hurting Dominic the Doberman. He dreamed about what it would be like to hear Dominic whimper. He dreamed about being able to control Dominic and make him do whatever the puppy desired. He began to feel a little better. 

...to be continued...

A Scrappy Tale - Prologue

     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:

     "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.

...to be continued...