Continued Stories, See Spot

[wilddaisy666]

The problem with having longer fur was, well, the unpleasant occurrence of dags.
And after his dinner of fresh food with a hint of old, the last thing he needed was the taste of shit in his mouth.

He bent down in a position that signified the want of play in dogs and stretched his little front legs. He was quite aware of the way his limbs ended in nubs, the roundness of his eyes, even his short stature. It perturbed him somewhat, but he understood these things as the reasons why he was not taken seriously. He was just... cute.

Dick on the other hand was not cute in any sense of the word, and Baxter could not fathom Jane's attraction or why Spot had not decided to go for him instead.
Not that he could change the past. The flea infested drool hound had been murdered, by none other than Dick. Or the more accurate euphemism, Penis.

Dick really was a Dick. And it was time for Baxter to perform a penectomy.

[jpd]

After dinner Baxter went through the motions of playfulness, first batting at Dick's shoelaces and then (the horror!) rolling over his discarded socks.    It had to be done this way to maintain the ruse, and it seemed to work as Dick fell fast asleep while the picture-box chattered annoyingly over the man's snoring.

While cats may be color-blind humans are stupider animals, and Baxter had no problem finding the largest button on the remote control to make the caterwauling television stop it's dreadful racket.

In the sudden silence and fading light of the TV his eyes grew wide.    Cats are known to hold grudges and Baxter was no exception.   He bitterly recalled his own youth then, as an innocent young kitten, and his first visit to the veterinarian.   The day that his manhood was surgically hacked-off and his claws filed-down into useless nubs.  

It was the one day that he and Spot had actually bonded-- even if only for a moment-- as the pup had barked and pooped on the family rug in an effort to distract Dick and Jane from their heinous intentions towards Baxter.

But that was a long time ago and now Spot was dead.   The hour for vengeance was at hand.  But first he needed to find his cat leash, some dental floss from the bathroom cabinet, the mechanical can opener, the straight-edged razor blades in the basement and that jar of spicy-hot Jalapeno pepper sauce from the kitchen table.

Before this night was out he would teach Dick a lesson or two about the benefits of neutering.  




    

[jpd]

Baxter would occasionally glance at the wall-clock as his plan unfolded.    He knew that when the little hand pointed to the right the sun would usually come up soon.   His plan was going to take time, and he glanced periodically as the little hand crawled slowly.

Most of his plan was developing nicely.  The mechanical can-opener fell to the kitchen floor while it's cord still seemed attached to the wall.   Baxter pressed it's lever as a test and was rewarded with the sound of whirring motors.  The hardest part of his plan had gone smoothly.

The dental floss was easier, and fell onto the bathroom floor and was easily batted into the parlor.   He made quick work chewing off the plastic cover and was rewarded with a bright "pop" as the spool of garroting wire spilled across the floor before him.   He dragged one length of the cable into the kitchen, wrapping it carefully around the gears of the can-opener.  He tested the lever again as the motor whirred and the spool of floss drew tightly around the spindle.  

The clock ticked softly as he dragged his leather leash carefully onto the arm-chair.   Dick was still snoring as he clasped the harness around the man's wrist, while drawing the leash under Dick's armpit and twice around his neck.

Good fortune struck then, and the jar of Jalapeno sauce was leaking as he batted it across the kitchen floor and into the parlor, spilling its contents as Baxter eyed the sleeping man.   Baxter was not very good at math or geometry and fretted for a long while about where to place it, spilling the hot sauce all across the carpet before realizing he had satisfied his mission after all.  

The hardest part for Baxter was retrieving the razor blades from the basement.  He eventually got one of the blades stuck in his paw so that he could hop up the staircase on three legs as his 4th paw clutched the device and he gripped it tightly through his immense pain.

In the dim light of the parlor he studied the scene, dropping the blade to lick at his bleeding paw.   Dick snored-- oblivious to the harness wrapped snugly around his arm and neck.   The little hand on the wall clock still pointed towards darkness.

Life was good Baxter purred then, rolling onto his back and sharpening his claws into fine points upon the granite tiles of the fireplace as Dick snored.

[jpd]

*****

Dick awoke at 4am and immediately realized something was wrong.  The cat leash wrapped tightly around his throat was the first indicator while the burning scent of Jalapeno sauce watered his eyes as they adjusted to the dawning gray light through the window shades.

The sound of purring drew his attention to the corner of the room, except that it wasn't quite purring, but rather, snoring.   He saw Baxter sprawled out at length across his cat-nip ball and in a deep, comatose, sleep.

"What?" he mumbled under his breath, finding knots of dental floss stuffed into his shorts as a razor blade nicked his brushing hand.   Dick could perform math, and he slowly studied the room and added-up the scene before him.   His eyes were drawn towards the kitchen and the tilted can-opener on the floor, then back to the glinting razor and tangled floss at his feet.  The dark stain of Jalapeno in the carpet before him.  The drops of dried blood leading from the stairwell into the parlor   The contented snoring of the cat.  Its bloodied right paw.

Dick was immediately outraged and grasped what needed to happen next, but first he would have to find his Bassmaster Certified Official Fishing Net from the garage, plus Spot's old carrying cage; the rusty can of WD40 from under the kitchen sink and the roll of electrical tape that was somewhere in the trunk of his car.   His mind spun with infinity as the room whirled before him with the acrid scents of vendetta.

Baxter rolled onto his back and yawned abruptly then as Dick froze in his tracks.   Only the ticking clock filled the room as he recalled his youth and the time he was once scratched and bloodied by a neighborhood stray, receiving a spanking from Mother for his being "cruel" to "innocent" animals.   It was a ridiculous charge at the time and an unfair accusation that grew even more ludicrous as the years had passed.   He wasn't a cruel person at all.  Dick loved animals.

"Jumper cables!" he abruptly blurted as Baxter twitched reflexively in his sleep and the clock ticked slowly towards dawn.

[jpd]

*****
"Sign here, ma'am."  the orderly insisted.

"Well it's about time!"  Jane hissed at the boy, scribbling her signature while holding an invisible leash in her right hand.  "Come along Spot, stop tarrying."

"Excuse me?" the orderly asked cautiously.

"When does my limousine arrive?" Jane replied, "and does it have a shower or a bath?" she asked.

"Excuse me?" the boy just blinked.

"Never mind, come along Spot!" she dismissed the orderly as she finally escaped from her dungeon vacation.

On the outside of her prison it was a perfect Spring day in October.   The bite of frost snapped at her nostrils as the pollen swirled in the dawning light of Modesto Beach, Kansas, under the sweltering heat of snow-crusted moonlight.

"Yes, pumpkin?" she crouched while waiting for her limousine.  "A treat?  But of course, a treat for my precious puppy!" she cried alone at the curb.

The past three days had been the most painful of her entire life to endure.  First the frantic 911 call when Spot slipped and fell down the stairs, then the angry medics who arrived next, plus the insult of being strapped into a gurney for the next 17 months.   The shock therapy had helped, but not much.  It had been the most embarrassing weekend of her entire life.

"You know, Spot, I was thinking"  she began to whisper "I was thinking that Dick is not a very good friend to me.  He's not a very good boy at all..." her eyes widened as a yellow limousine abruptly bounced off the curb and skidded to a stop before her.

"You the lady that needs a ride?" a voice called from somewhere far-off in space.

"Yes." she thought aloud.  "Yes, a ride home would be nice.   But first we need to find a hardware store, or someplace that sells chicken-wire and chain-saws." she added as Spot jumped playfully onto her lap and she hugged her precious puppy as the man's eyes just glared at her from the rear-view mirror.

[jpd]

*****
Officer Doyle was already bored, now that the structural fire was put out.   As usual, the EMT's were arguing with the Animal Control officers again about who had jurisdiction of the crime scene, as the Coroner sat in his van chain-smoking.  At least there was a witness this time, and there was a cab driver who claimed to have seen the crime unfold who was too stupid to have fled the scene like most people would do.   Officer Doyle hated this part of the job, but it was required.

"Okay Mister Rojas, lets go through your story again.  So you said the "casa" was already on fire when you arrived?"

No, I think, no!"  the taxi driver trembled nervously, "The cat, he was on fire, like WOOSH!" he pointed off to the distant treeline.

"Okay, but the house was already on fire when you got here?" Doyle asked for the 5th time.

"No, see... the loco lady cut door open con grande chasaw, then el gato goes woosh while casa making mucho fast flaming.   Very fast people cooking fire!"  the man added.

"Are you saying the lady set the fire when she got to this address?" he asked the witness while thinking about his dinner plans for later that night.

"NO!" the man abruptly shrieked, "The lady... she was loco-  she talk only CRAZY!   She keeps saying "Deek Deek Deek..."   She runs in saying "Deek" with loss of chaysaw, y sawdust, y.. y...  y pollos!  Y flame....  Then WOOSH!" he pointed again to the distant treeline.

"Okay Mister Rojas, I think we have everything we need."

"Que pasa?"  the man blinked back quizically, not comprehending.

"Thank you for your time." officer Doyle concluded his witness interview.   He had seen this story all too many times before and was already bored by the details.   A crazy lady with a chainsaw and chicken-wire sets fire to her house and husband as their cat runs off in flames.   He hated cases such as this, which produced too much paperwork from the police which nobody would ever bother to read, later.  

"What're you lookin' at?" he barked with annoyance, closing his folio case with a snap.   The dog at the crime scene just continued staring back-- drooling and panting-- as it had done all afternoon.   Doyle wondered then if all dogs look like they are smiling.