LuLu's Desperate House Dogs (formerly the Bow Wow Blog)

LuLu's Desperate House Dogs is a blog about an eccentric little Beagle named LuLu, who, along with her sister Sadie (a Whippet/Terrier/Beagle blend), writes the lurid Puppies in Lust series, and absorbs local color in an idyllic, off-the-leash, canine-centered village known as Lincoln Park~

Friday, August 17, 2007

Tonight...Shamus spaniel Sam Spencer shows his stuff...or "stuffings"...as our tether-taut mystery ... "The Maltese Chew Toy"...continues. (Photo by J.M. Hilton)

2 Comments:

Blogger LuLu said...

The Maltese Chew Toy...continued..

At first glance Sam thought the Edwardian style Gatthamer mansion looked like a jumble of garbage cans placed upright and welded together. There were no flat surfaces anywhere, and the large bay windows reminded him of evil, prying eyes.

The house was painted an unbecoming shade of oxblood, and the tall iron fence, which tightly surrounded the property like a fat woman's girdle, was a solid, unforgiving black. Inside the house all the blinds and curtains were drawn.

There was no sign of life whatsoever, save for a hooded oriel hopping about on an Acacia tree, proclaiming to anyone who would listen that he just got lucky.

Sam went around to the back of the property and peered through bars thick enough to do Alcatraz proud. He could just make out what appeared to be an empty courtyard inside, but it was too heavily shrouded by trees and bushes for him to be sure. He sniffed the air, sensing the presence of a canine somewhere close by. But the scent was not a strong one.

Sam cut his eyes to the nearby street. A few cars were going past, and down the block a handyman was sweeping a driveway. Nobody was paying the slightest attention to him.

He slipped behind a bush and immediately set to work.

Sam sank his paws into the soft soil, made damp by the night's rain, with genuine relish. He truly loved to dig, as did Effie. Her absolute lust for slinging mud was one of the first things he'd noticed about her -- that and the fact she was about to go into heat.

Effie was a true beagle, thought Sam, and he was proud of his girl. She could dig her way under a fence almost as fast as he could, but even with her help, Sam realized, there was no way he could dig his way around or under a cement block.

He stared at the obstacle, snarled, and moved his operation further down the fence line, but when he dug down a little more than a foot, he came up against another block of solid cement.

Evidently Bugsy Gatthamer was a two-footer who didn't like unexpected guests -- of any species.

Frustrated, Sam sat down and scratched at a flea. It was then that he caught sight of a small back gate. Of course! he reasoned. Why hadn't he thought to look for a gate before? He commenced digging directly beneath it, and in no time he was able to shimmy underneath and bellyhaul himself onto a narrow path which led toward the courtyard.

As he was shaking mud off his coat, he heard a low growl, and whirled about, but it was too late.

Story continued below...

12:58 AM  
Blogger LuLu said...

Story cont'd...

The other dog jumped on Sam's back and drew blood from his curly right ear. Sam instantly retaliated by sinking his teeth into his opponent's left leg, just below the stifle. The other dog yelped and let go of his ear, but a second later he lunged again and tried to grab Sam by the throat.

Sam dodged the sharp, flashing teeth and rolled underneath his foe. He attacked from the rear, ripping a piece of skin off the other dog's hip.

"Those are some slick moves, son," his foe complimented, and Sam found himself eyeball to eyeball with one of the largest and toughest looking German shepherds he'd ever encountered.

Sam knew he could handle himself, but he also knew a fight to the death would be the probable outcome. He decided he'd rather have brunch first.

"Listen, numbnuts," he snarled, "a sweet little bitch named Dollybelle told me to ask for a mutt named Murray when I got over here. Are you too slow in the skull to carry a message, or do I have to chew off your right leg first?"

The big dog's ears perked and he promptly sat down. "You want to talk to Murray, son?"

"That's the way of it, Fritz, old boy. Now, are you going to play fetch, or do I have to neuter you on the spot?"

"You do have a problem, son," said the big German shepherd, barking a laugh.

"How's that, kraut-hound?" asked Sam.

The other dog grinned at him. "Because I'm Murray."

Story continued next week.

1:26 AM  

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