PRIZE DOG

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXXVI, Issue 23381, 24 June 1939, Page 5 (Supplement)

PRIZE DOG

U \~\T7 HAT on earth,'' said \X/ Elizabeth, "is that tied » V to our front door?" "It—it seems to be a dog," I said. It was a dog. It was not only one of the biggest dogs I'd ever seen, but also one of the ugliest. It was built on the lines of a medium-size cow, and had a face like a gravelscoop. It regarded us in no friendly spirit as we came up the garden path and, making a spring, was fetched up short by the rope it was tied to with a jar that rattled all the windows. "Er—l think I'll go in at the back door," I said. "There's something I want in the kitchen." "The back door's locked." "On second thoughts, it seems a shame to go indoors on n lovely evoning liko this. 1 believe I'll stay in the garden a bit." "But what's that great animal doing there?" wailed Elizabeth. "George!" I said, with one of those unerring flashes of inspiration one does sometimes got.

"What would George bo doing with a dog like that?" "Only George would know." Just at that moment, George himself appeared. "Hullo, chaps!" he greeted us. "I gathered you were out, so I just hitched Flossie to the door while I slipped round the corner for a quick one." "Is this Flossie?" "It is," agreed George, fetching Flossie an affectionate whack in the ribs that would have given Joe Louis something to think about, but which merely seemed to gratify her. "How do you like her?" "She's awful!" declared Elizabeth, with conviction. "She isn't!" denied George, pained. "She's sweet. And she's mine. 1 won her off Dickie Glenn at poker last night. Poor old Dickie was getting pretty short of stakes, and I've always coveted Flossie." "And now you've brought her round to show off your winnings?" A Sort of Kink "Well, 110, old boy, hardly that. You see, Mrs. Compton, my landlady, estimable old soul though slio is, and second to none in the construction of bacon-and-eggs, has a sort of kink about dogs. Not an animal-lover, I'm afraid," said George, regretfully. "Just something left clean out of her make-up." *'You'd have to bo an animal-lover and a half to work up any sort of friendly feeling for this monstrosity." "From one or two remarks she let fall, she doesn't see eye to eye with me on the question of Flossie. When I introduced Flossie with the intimation that she had been taken on the strength, the Compton foot went down with a reverberating bang. Me, yes— Flossie, no. That, about summed up her attitude, which, I don't mind saying, was uncompromising in the extreme." "So you've got to take Flossie back to Dickie Glenn?" "Well, not exactly, old horse," said George, tenderly picking a bit of fluff off my sleeve. "Eh? Look here, George—" • "By gosh, old boy, your garden's nice! Don't know when I've seen it in better trim. Every little lobelia just so—" "If you think I'm going to board and lodge that —that —" "Quick in the uptake," said George, approvingly. "I liko to see it. Well, now that's satisfactorily settled, I'll pop off."

By COLIN HOWARD, Illustrated By MINHINNICK

"it isn't settled. I decline to have anything to do with —" "Mind yon, it isn't everybody Id trust with a valuable dog like Flossie. And what a watch-dog! Old boy, 1 m doing you the good turn oi a lifetime in lending you the services of an absolute one-dog defence-squad like Flossie." "Hut —" . . "Oil, and you'll find she lias a fairish appetite. About two pounds of nicat per diem, one ol vcg., tlio sanio of biscuits, and an odd snack now and again of whatever you have yourselves—that ought to be enough to keep her ticking over. But don't go over-feeding her, lie warned me, severely. "Well, so long —l'll be looking in to see how she s getting along." And, with an airy wave, George vanished, leaving tlio titanic Flossie on our hands. After a certain amount or parleying, that lady graciously allowed us indoors. We then set earnestly to work to conciliate her. Half an hour's shameless flattery had her wagging her tail in a manner wo regretted, since it knocked over two occasional tables and a plantstand. At ten o'clock, Elizabeth suggested I should take Flossie ior a walk. Flossie saw things the other way about. My idea had been five minutes round the houses. Flossie's notion was an extended tour of the neighbourhood, con-

ducted at a steady six knots. I got homo limp and weary, and bedded Flossie down in the kitchen for the night. At one o'clock she began to get homesick. Her voice gave out at five o'clock, recovering in time for her to accord the postman a salute of sixty-four foun-dation-shaking booms. I cannot tell you what a curse that dog made our life. There wasn't a tradesman she liked, and she was a simple child of Nature, brought up not to conceal her feelings. Her notions of pleasure were monotonous, consisting of one walk every hour. Her method of securing this was to sit scratching the front door and bawling her head olf. Next Day's Joint She had a total of seven dog-fights in five walks, and appeared dissatisfied with the number. She scratched a hole in the hearthrug, apparently to see if the pattern went right through, discovered the next day's joint, buried it in the coal-cellar, took a dry bath on top of it, and then went to sleep on the couch. And that was only the first day. For three days she made our lives a misery. I tried to get hold of George on the phone, but ho seemed never to be there. Besides, Elizabeth, whose feelings can be outrageously sisterly, said it seemed a little hard if nobody would look after his dog for him. And then I had an idea. "Ho won Flossie off Dickie Glenn," I said. "The only thing is for him to lose her back to him again." "But you can't make George lose," she pointed out. "Heaven knows what ho might win next time." The Losing Game "We shall havo to risk that. But George is 110 poker player. If Ave keep on long enough, he's bound to lose. I'll put it up to George—suggest it's only fair to give Dickie a chance to win Flossie back. We'll get tliein both along here to-morrow evening." "The sooner the better," she agreed. So George and Dickie Glenn both came round to us, Dickie quite cheered at the prospect of retrieving Flossie. As I guessed, George's luck didn't hold. We played poker until about two in the morning, and ho lost pretty steadily. Unfortunately, it didn't occur to mo that Dickie might havo bad luck, too. I went to bed having won two pounds fourteen in solid cash, and Georgo's 1.0.U.'s for threo pounds eight. And Flossie!