A weekend.  A man is coming from his kitchen into the living room, where his dog is.

HD:  Are we expecting visitors today, Master?

M:  Visitors?  No.  We have no visitors.  Why?

HD:  I can smell good quality beef, mushrooms and buttery pastry.  I conclude you are preparing a nice dinner, and there is a beef Wellington in the oven.

M:  Well done, Richie!!  I am just cooking exactly that.  But it is for you and me.  There are no visitors.

HD:  You and me?  What is the day today?  I do not think it is either your or my birthday, Master, or Christmas.

M:  Ha, ha, ha!  No, Richie, it is just an ordinary Saturday.

HD:  What is the reason behind this sudden and very unusual luxury, may I ask?

M:  Well, sorry it is unusual, but I had unexpected spare money and decided to splash out!

HD:  Fantastic!!  What happened, Master?  It is very unusual, too, for you to have spare money, if you allow me to say so.  An extra commission?  Won a little on a lottery?

M:  No, Richie, no.  Unfortunately, it is nothing like that.

I will tell you the story whilst we are waiting for our feast to be done in the oven.  But I warn you, it is not a happy one as you might imagine.

Actually, the feast is to cheer myself up after an unpleasant experience, with you as a company.

HD:  I am always ready to be one, Master!

M:  Thank you, Richie.  I know you are.

The fact is I had some 200 pounds back into my account yesterday.  After a very polite argument on telephone and subsequent emails.

HD:  “Use soft barks and hard arguments”, we say.

M:  Do you…?

Yes, I was polite, but was cross as well as very disappointed.

You know I love going to theatres.  I am always interested in good, interesting plays whether it is in a big famous theatre or a small fringe one.  I have been a member of a few of them as you know.

HD:  I know humans love pretending.

M:  What?

HD:  That is what plays are all about, I believe?  Pretending to be someone who is not you.  Quite innocent, I am sure, because you call it “play”.

M:  Ummmm….  You always say something strange but difficult to dismiss simply.

HD:  Thank you for your attention, Master.

M:  Now, if you become a member, you pay an annual membership fee.  In return, they give you an opportunity to make a priority booking for their events, which means you can book the ticket the day before it is released to the public.  Till about 5 years ago, everything was alright.  I enjoyed each membership and normally got the ticket for the performance I wanted to see.

HD:  “The early dog catches the bone”.  Good.

M:  …??

Something has happened, though, recently.  It has become increasingly difficult to get a ticket even if you are a member.  I tried both telephone and internet, getting ready with both of them in front of me, waiting from some time before the booking started.  10 minutes later, I failed miserably, being told the tickets were all sold out.

HD:  Ah, people have suddenly started to take their dogs along, which made the demand double, or in some cases, triple, perhaps.

M:  I have no idea what you are talking about.

Anyway, I thought this was awful.  There was only one way to avoid this misery, at least so I thought.   Each organisation has special membership, which charges you a lot more annually, but you are then called a patron or premium member, or something like that, and given further priority booking opportunity to ordinary members, normally another day before the public release.

HD:  The privilege only reserved for leaders of the pack.  We have the system, too, though ours cannot be bought like yours.

M:  …?

Well, I decided, although several times more than the ordinary membership fee could be a lot of money, it could be worth it if you could secure the tickets you really wanted.  I purchased a premium membership.

Now, this week they released the tickets for the play I have long wanted to see.  As a special patron member, I tried to book a ticket the day before normal members, which was two days prior to its public release.  You know, a special membership is all about this basically.

HD:  The first to take what he wants, I know how it works.

M:  …??

…They did not let me, though.  I inquired.  They said, “Patron members normally can book tickets earlier than others, but to some events, this rule does not always apply.  In this case, you have to book on the same day as others, for this is a particularly popular programme and the production company does not allow us any earlier allocation”.

“What?”  I thought.  Then what was the meaning of this premium membership?  When something was more popular, the more crucial it would become whether this system worked or not, surely!  But they were adamant, saying that I would still have a good chance of getting tickets if I tried hard on the day and encouraged me to try.  They said, “Should you still fail, let us know, we would think again about the policy”.

HD:  “The exception proves the rule”, Barks Tullius Cicero.

M:  Marcus, Richie, that is Marcus Tullius Cicero.

HD:  Sorry, Marcus Tullius Cicero.  Anyway, you Englishmen also say “there is no rule without an exception”, do you not?

M:  Well, yes, we do, though I think the meanings of those two are a bit different….

Anyway, I wasn’t quite happy, but thought it was worth trying at least.  Then I tried.  Cancelled all the engagements of that morning, sat in front of my computer with my phone beside it.  On my computer screen, I had already logged in to the booking page of the theatre’s website, with the seating plan and my credit card ready.  I had set the booking line number on my phone with quick dial, which meant one push of the button led you straight to the people you needed.  Just to make sure, I had put my digital clock shown on the computer screen, counting second by second from about an hour before the booking started.

HD:  Remarkable spirit, Master!

M:   You see?  I have done everything I could.  At the tick of the digital clock, or I must say a few seconds before, as it took a few seconds to get through to the other side of the phone or the next computer screen, I tried my luck.  The phone was permanently engaged, which I had well expected.  The computer screen jammed.  At least, though, I have got to the point to select a seat on screen.  But, you know, these internet shopping is tricky.  You are not guaranteed your purchase until your payment has gone through, and this process takes time.  Whilst you are trying, everyone else from all over the world can try the same thing.  It was a matter of touch, in this case.  Whose finger was quicker, whose credit card went through quicker or whose computer worked quicker, maybe.

Seconds later, the screen told me my selected seat had already gone. I was panicked.  I don’t remember exactly what I did in next few seconds, but struggled to try getting a ticket somehow.  Three minutes later, the message on the screen read that the tickets were all sold out.

HD:  I see…everyone has now started to keep and take multiple dogs.  Close competition, I believe.

M:  (Ignoring his dog’s remark) I could not believe my eyes!  I have never had this sort of experience before.  “Really?”  “Is it possible?”  “This is not the Rolling Stones’ concert!!”

HD:  The Stones is rather too loud for sensitive dogs’ ears.

M:  (Ignoring his dog again) Anyway, I failed.  I failed to get the ticket.  Despite all the preparations.  I felt miserable, to be honest.  What was happening there?

HD:  Good owners know that plays are much preferable for dogs to The Stones’ concerts, as they are quieter, hence, the demand has soared.

M:  What are you talking about, Richie?

HD:  I was trying to explain what was happening there, Master.  Because you asked me.

M:  Oh, Richie….  I love you.

Anyway, I felt ridiculous then.  For what other purpose had I paid such a lot of money, a lot for me at least, Richie, to the organisation after all, if I had no advantage or even a slightest benefit at all in getting the ticket I really wanted?  I regretted my naïve decision.

Next I felt cross.  This was a fraud, in a way, I thought.  You know, Richie, I am not a miser, but not wealthy.  Of course it was my decision to be a premium member, but then naturally I had expected to be treated a bit more like that.  No.  No difference at all.  Nothing.

HD:  “Having nothing, nothing he can lose”, King Charles VI, William Springer.

M:  RRRRRRichieeeeee…!!  That is Henry!  King Henry VI, and it is William Shakespeare!!

HD:  Oh, is it?

M:  ….

I explained my great disappointment in polite but firm words to them.  They repeated they were very sorry but even they could not foresee such an exceptional situation.  They said they would discuss this matter in their committee and try to better the situation in future.

HD:  There is no rule….

M:  (Interrupting his dog) “All very well”, I said.  “But I should like to be out of this premium membership, now that I found out there was no benefit for me at all”.  They did not argue any further.  The manager told me she would refund my membership fee straight into my account.  “OK, thank you, it might not be your fault, though it is clear something should be done in future”, I said, “I should be quite happy to remain as an ordinary member”.

That was it.  You know, Richie, the difference of normal membership fee and the premium one was paid into my account yesterday, which turned into our beef Wellington today.

HD:  What a wonderful story after all!!

M:  It was NOT, Richie!!

HD:  It certainly was, Master, for it could somehow produce a beef Wellington!

M:  Oh, Richie…you are a happy soul.

By the way, some of the tickets in question are on certain websites for sale at the moment.  The price ranges from 300 to 500 hundred each.  The original price is, Richie, from around 30 to 60 pounds.  A complete madness, eh…?

HD:  I am pleased you are not a part of the madness.  Well done, Master.

M:  …Thank you, Richie.

Now, let’s have dinner, shall we?

 

(A man and his dog were sitting in a small church yard accessed only by hidden alley ways behind the busy streets of the City of London.)

(The man took a bottle of water and an inflatable dog bowl out of his rucksack, and they shared the water.)

Man:  It is amazing there is such a quiet oasis hidden in the midst of busiest streets of London.  You cannot imagine this from the outside, can you, Richie?

His Dog:  Well, we can smell grass and trees from the outside.

M:  Can you?  That is amazing, too.

Now, what do you think of the famous City of London, Richie?  This is your first visit.

HD:  I have never walked anywhere before, where I do not meet a single fellow canine all the way.  Is this a dog-free zone?  Are you sure I am OK to be here, Master?

M:  Ha, ha, Richie, of course I am sure.  You are safe here.  I never noticed but you are right.  We have not seen any dog at all.  Perhaps that is because the City is the place to work, not live.  People come here to work during the day and leave in the evening.  They do not live here.  Therefore, no canine to walk.  Dogs are around where people live.  That is an interesting point, actually.

I suppose you do not like this place then, Richie?

HD:  Yes, Master.  I quite like it, particularly all these back streets.  There are lots of intriguing smells.  For instance, that building there, I am sure it used to store liquor.

M:  Wow, really!?  You are great, Richie.  Yes, I think it used to be an old coaching inn.  That part must have been a cellar for a very long time.

What else?

HD:  I could smell the remnant of coffee there.

M:  Wow, Richie!  Yes!  They say the building was an old coffee house!  I now see how much you can enjoy this walk.

As you have said, this may not be a very dog-friendly place, with a lot of traffic, busy people, and so on.  All centres upon business here.  But at the same time, the City is a treasure trove of history.  We can find countless old buildings of great historic value and interest.

For instance, that large imposing building where you lingered quite a while, that was a fish market from 600 years ago until Victorian times.

HD:  Ah, I knew that.

M:  Well, it must have smelled quite fishy to you, I think?

HD:  Yes, Master.

M:  And another one.  That colourful looking shopping arcade, where you lingered even longer, that used to be a market selling meats and poultries for centuries.

HD:  I knew that, too, as soon as I arrived there.

M:  You refused to leave for some time, Richie.

HD:  Did I?

Well, I liked the quaint looking buildings like those as well as their smells, Master.

M:  Yeah, Richie.  Rather nice, aren’t they?  Those are the charm of the City.  This is the oldest part of London, you see, some date back to Roman times, nearly 2000 years ago.

HD:  Dogs have been with people for more than 10000 years.

M:  Oh, have they?  Well, the city is not that old….  But you remember that archaic small church we saw?  A part of it is Norman, I believe.  That is the 11th century, Richie.  And it still exists and in use today.  Amazing, eh?

Of course London had a great fire in 1666, which destroyed almost all the buildings in the City.  That is why most of the churches here were rebuilt in the 17th century.  Still, even that was more than 300 years ago!

HD:  I also liked that old shop front, Master, by the Norman church.

M:  Ah, yes, that is from the 18th century.  The style of the façade is typical of the time.

Did you smell something nice there, too, then?

HD:  It mainly smelled of a mothball.  But a few other interesting smells as well.

M:  Oh, did it?  …That is impressive.  No wonder each spot intrigued you.

HD:  Yes, Master.  But tell me, what about these huge metallic buildings dotted around in between them?  Do they also have history?  I could not smell much, actually.  Or nothing interesting for that matter.

M:  Oh…Richie, do not mention that.  Those are the new buildings which have been built quite recently or in the process of being built right now.  More are coming.  All are the products of this very 21st century.

I suppose the day will come years later when they regret their own doings, just as we have regretted some less recent doings of our own.  We humans, as you know, tend to repeat the same mistakes, I am afraid.

Those ultra-modern buildings may be convenient for business purposes, but to me, they look quite threatening….  They clearly spoil scenery of such historic importance, in my opinion.  Look at St Paul’s.  It used to be the tallest building in the City.  Now you can see how dwarfed it is…. Sad.  And all these beautiful church towers.  They are just buried in those glass-covered skyscrapers.  I wonder why the authorities do not restrict the height and appearance of the new buildings, so that they blend into, or at least match the surroundings.  Particularly, the height.  They are getting taller and taller.  It seems that people compete with one another in the height of their buildings.

HD:  Humans have always aspired to be taller from the very beginning of its history.

M:  Have we?  Why do you say that?

HD:  For what else would anyone decide to stand on hind legs alone?  It requires effort.

Everyone else–well, almost, normally chooses to stand on all four–apart from birds, of course.  They have had only two legs from the start, as far as I know.  But then, they can fly, you know, therefore, no need to be tall to look down others.

Humans, though, they could not fly like birds.  But, fortunately for them, they had four legs like other animals.  Therefore, they decided to stand on only two so that they could be taller, and be able to look down others.

M:  You think so…?

HD:  Well, this is my theory of evolution, if you ask me, Master.

You may not agree, of course.  But everyone is allowed to have his own opinion.  Are we not, Master?

M:  Yes, of course….

Anyway, Richie, let’s go back to the subject.  I have heard that the surface of these gigantic buildings got really hot on sunny days and once one of them could even burn the part of the car parked at the foot of it.  By reflecting the sunlight.  Does this not sound awful?  It is forgivable, perhaps, when it is a car with nobody in it.  But can you imagine what damage these could cause to the people walking beside them.  Could be catastrophic.

HD:  Yes.  Cats are messy creatures.

M:  …What?  What did you say?

HD:  I believe that is why you humans call it cat-astrophe when you have a disaster.  I have never heard you say dog-astrophe, I am sure.

M:  Oh, Richie…!!!

Anyway, a cab driver even said he could manage to fry an egg on his car’s bonnet using this reflection.

HD:  Wow, that is pawy!  I want that egg!

M:  Rrrrrrrichieeee!!

HD:  Sorry, Master.  Dogs tend to look on the sunny side.

M:  Of course you do….

Now, let us make a way home, Richie.  Pop on a bus before it starts to rain.

 

(The man and his dog took a bus home.  When they got home it did start raining.)

M:  Oh, my God, it is raining again.  We have had so much rain recently.  I have really had enough of it.

HD:  I do not mind.

M: Don’t you?

HD:  Dogs do not.  Our life is so short, I mean, a canine life.  We have no time to worry about weather.  Someone told me that we age 7 times more quickly than humans, however quick that means exactly….

M: Well, actually they do say so.

HD:  See?  We have little time to worry about anything.  Anyway, rain or shine, it is just your state of mind.

M:  That is what you think?

HD:  Well, the boys from Liverpool taught me so.

M:  Did they?  Are they your friends, or masters of your friends?

HD:  No, no.  You introduced me to them, Master.  The Beagles.  One of them is called Lennon.  He sang so on your record.

M:  Ah, The Beatles, you mean.  Rain.

HD:  It is my favourite song.

M:  Is it?  But they are The Beatles, not The Beagles, Richie.

HD:  Are they?  I am not sure about that…, but, yes, the song is my most favourite.   I think the Lennon chap had a kind of canine perspective.  The genius often does, you know.  We do not care if it rains or shines.  We can tell the present weather by watching people’s reaction.  He is a great guy.

M:  Hmm….  He was.  He is dead, you know.  Murdered.  He has gone too young, too soon.

HD:   Oh, I am sorry to hear that…but I am sure he aged 7 times quicker than other humans.  That is why he has gone too soon.  The genius often does.

M:  What?  Hmmmmm….  That is not true, obviously, but there is something which sounds rather wise in that remark.

HD:  Thank you, Master.  For your compliment.

 

 

(A man and his dog are in a living room.  The man switched off the TV).

Man:  Another heroic rescue story of a neglected creature by an animal shelter.  You liked it, I think, Richie?

His Dog:  Yes, Master.  Although I prefer the stories of heroic dogs rescuing people, personally.

M:  Oh, do you?  …Yes, maybe.

Animal shelters….  Of course you came from one of these, Richie.  But I must confess I had had a bad experience with one of them.  Traumatic, even.  I am not saying they are all bad, no.  I am sure most of them are really good.  Particularly, the one where you are from is fantastic.  I am still supporting it.

HD:  You are a good man.

M:  You had a lovely time there, I believe?

HD:  Well, I remember I had a lot of friends.  Each of our own space was rather small for my liking, but they kept it clean.  The food was mediocre, understandably, but they took us for a walk twice daily.  Not bad, actually.

M:  Hmm, Good.

HD:  What was your problem there, Master?  You were fed up with that cross-examining by inspectors, I suppose?  I know they have this very thorough interview with each prospective owner.  Although goodness knows which will own which, that is another matter, I think.

M:  What?

HD:  I was just trying to ask what traumatised you, Master.

M:  Well, first of all, it was nothing to do with you, Richie.  It happened long before you came when I was still a student.

HD:  That must have been generations ago.

M:  Ha, ha, no, Richie.  Don’t exaggerate.  I am not that old!

HD:  I was talking about canine generations.

M:  Ah…, yes, that perhaps is right.  Ha, ha, ha.  Yes, it was long before you were even born.

When you are at uni, you can find a lot of spare time, if you try.  One spring, I saw an advert looking for volunteers to help in a famous dogs’ home.  I have always loved dogs, you know, therefore I thought it could be a good opportunity for me to have interesting experience as well as learning some new skills.  I decided to apply.

HD:  Good boy!

M:  You know, Richie, this was the world’s most famous dogs’ home.  Naturally, thousands and thousands of applications flooded in for just a dozen posts.  Well, I thought, even if I failed, I would have nothing to be ashamed of.  It would be because of a huge competition.  I filled in the application form in high spirits and wrote a most passionate covering letter declaring how much we should learn from dogs.

HD:  You really were a good boy!  Just as I thought when I chose you.

M:  Thank you, Richie.   …Who did you say choose whom?

HD:  It is widely believed, in the canine world, that dogs choose their masters.

M  …Is it?   Anyway, I do not know if they loved my passion for dogs or they simply loved my CV, but they invited me for an interview just before summer.  I thought, “Wow”!  I was somehow chosen for an interview for the role!

HD:  I told you it was dogs who chose.  But, well done, Master!

M:  …??   …Well, there I went for an interview.  It was more like a long day of exams, Richie!  It took several hours with a few sessions and we even were provided lunch between sessions.

HD:  Dogs’ lunch, perhaps?

M:  Men’s lunch, of course, thankfully.

HD:  Be careful, Master.  You should say people’s lunch.  Otherwise you would be branded as a sexist these days.

M:  Oh, Sorry.  Thank you, Richie, for the warning.  Anyway, first, there was a written exam.  A lot of questions about dogs, how to care for them, their psychology, their development and breed varieties.  There even were the questions about famous canine characters in history, literature and the cartoon world!  I actually enjoyed the last, I must say.

HD:  Lots of dogs in that department, far more than cats, you know.

M:  Oh, maybe…yes.

Then we were gathered in a small group and asked to discuss practical canine issues, what best to do to resolve tricky situations, things like that.  Then we were asked to do a few tasks together.  Everyone in my group looked and sounded much better than me.

HD:  No need to worry, Master, unless they smelled better.

M:  Really?  …Well, it was friendly, of course, no explicit rivalry or anything.  The people all seemed really nice.  We are a mix of men and women, the young and the not-so-young.  There was a nice camaraderie of animal lovers, I think.

HD:  I can imagine the nice smell of it.

M:  Now, finally, we were led to meet some canine residents, and asked to show the examiners how to “interact” with dogs.  Adorable dogs!  It was the best part of the day, I remember.

HD:  Smelling even nicer!

M:  Anyway, all in all, I enjoyed the day, but was exhausted afterwards.  I had not thought the day would be so intense!

HD:  The poor canines must have been exhausted, too, looking after those humans.

M:  You think they were…?

Well, the week after, I had a phone call saying that I was selected.  “Wow!”  Again I was delighted.  But that was not the start of the actual work yet.  Instead, I was asked if I was ready to go for another full day of training.  “OK”, I said.  It would all be fun, you know, even if not paid.

HD:  Money cannot buy you love, Master, which, by the way, is all about the canine.

M:  Oh…, that is true, Richie, actually.

There I went again, for a day of training.  We had a few lectures.  First, we had to learn the history of the home.  They were extremely proud of its more than century old history.  Then there was a lecture about the “code of conduct”.  Then another which explained all the practicalities, like where things were, what could be used when, you know.

After lunch–people’s lunch, that was, we were out in the grounds with those four-legged residents now, practicing the things we were supposed to do.

HD:  Ah, they made you sit, stay, and come.

M:  No!  Well, sort of….

The day was most enjoyable as ever.  But it was hot, height of summer now, you know, and classes all day was much harder than my life at uni!  Again, exhaustion came when finished, though with real sense of achievement.

We had a lot to learn at home, too.  We had to remember everything about the home so that we could explain to the visitors.  We were given our timetable there along with different procedures as well as “scripts” to memorise.  Actually, I spent quite a time practicing all these at home.

HD:  Very good boy.

M:  A week later, the job started at last!  It started at 9 in the morning and finished about 5pm.  The grounds of the home were huge, naturally, for the sake of the dogs, whom we exercised there.  For each dog, it must have felt a short stroll, perhaps, but there were about 200 dogs!  We in turn exercised them all.  There also was training sessions to teach them how to sit, stay, etc., and some tricks, too.  Normally they were good natured and well behaved, but not all the time.  Sometimes we had to struggle to stop the dog trying to run around like mad.  Other times we had to tell the visitors to keep the excited children under control.

HD:  Not the excited dogs on leash.  Impressive.

M:  Overall, these were hard days, though stimulating.  I was completely worn out each day and came home to sleep like a lo…

HD:  Dog.

M:  No, lo…ah, yes, dog.  I worked like a dog and slept like a dog.

HD:  What wonderful days you had!

M:  Yes, it was wonderful…until one day, after about 2 months, when I received a totally unexpected telephone call from the so-called volunteer manager.

Out of blue, I was told there were not very good feedbacks about me from the visitors to the home.  “Therefore”, she said, “regrettably, you are no longer needed.  You need not come as from tomorrow”.

“What???” I asked.  “Could you tell me why?”  “Because more than one customer thought you were not pleasant enough, as I have said”, was her reply.

I could not believe my ears.  You know, Richie, I had never been told I was unpleasant from anyone at any time in all my life before.  OK, people sometimes said I was funny, or sometimes too enthusiastic, or a bit eccentric, but never ever unpleasant or that sort!!  I was shocked.

There was no use arguing, though.  She was adamant.  “No need to come as from tomorrow”, she repeated throughout the conversation.  “OK, I will not come any more”, I said eventually and hung up.

No “thank you” at all.  Even if something was really wrong with me, I thought I deserved to be thanked for my dedication and hard work for 2 months, did I not?  All those long hours of work, after a lot of exams and trainings with some homework as well.  Of course, I volunteered.  But that did not mean I deserved no gratitude, you know.  I knew from the first it would be unpaid, but then I remembered I had not even paid for my train fare, for that was to be reimbursed later at the end of the year.

I am not talking about money here, Richie, I hope you understand.  They would not have lost anything if they had thanked me for once.  Would they?

And the way of this dismissal!  A sudden single telephone call on the day before?  No official letter or explanation.  Was this the decent way to dismiss someone, even if he was a volunteer?

They might have a reputation to be an excellent rescue centre for dogs for more than a century, but the way they treated a volunteer who helped their celebrated work was awful.  They should have learned how to treat people before telling others how to treat animals!

HD:  Umm….  Were you popular among ladies, both human and canine?

M:  I thought so.

HD:  Jealous.

M:  Richie!!  You should not be jealous if I was popular among bitches!

HD:  No, Master.  Jealousy is more human than canine.  We do sometimes get jealous but seldom.  Humans do almost all the time.

M:  You are changing the subject, Richie.

HD:  No.  What I am saying is it was likely, considering human nature, that there was some other reason, something else they would not or could not tell you why they wanted you to leave.  The most likely answer, again with my knowledge of human nature, is jealousy.

M:  What are you talking about?

HD:  Well, Master.  I may be wrong.  But for me it sounded rather odd that the visitors to the home complained about your attitude.  How did they know who you are?  What chances did they have to tell your superior their thoughts on individual volunteer?  They came to see dogs not staff.

It smelled fishy to me.

M:  Hmmmmm.  Now that you said that, it really does sound odd.

During my days there I had never encountered any awkward situation with visitors, or even slightly unpleasant one for that matter.  If some visitors thought I was really unpleasant among other staff whilst I was with them, they would have shown it.  Even if they said nothing, I should have sensed it.  On the contrary, visitors always seemed happy to me, fully enjoying their experience.

HD:  You see?  Did you break this “code of convict”?

M:  “Code of conduct”, Richie.   …Of course not.

I was always punctual, responsible and professional, I believe.  I had done nothing wrong.  As I have said, I had good relationships both with my fellow volunteers and dogs.  I could not think of anything to justify my sudden and abrupt dismissal.

HD:  Then I conclude that someone in the home got jealous of your popularity, or whatever about you, and just wanted to get rid of you.  Humans do that.  Look at your history.

But it is good news.  It meant you were charming, Master.  Congratulations!

M:  Whaaat?  You know, Richie, I was hurt.  I was young, therefore, more sensitive.

HD:  Not any more.

M:  …Maybe.  But I felt unfair.  I felt like being betrayed by the people to whom I showed my honest dedication.

The experience put me off completely.  I never thought of working for an animal shelter ever again.

HD:  They were too busy being good to dogs to be good to people, I suppose.  Humans are not good at doing more than one thing at a time.

M:  Are dogs good…?

HD:  I am afraid not.  But we dare not even try.  Canines know their limit.  Humans do not, or do not want to.  That is the difference.

M:  Hmmmm….  That actually sounds true.

HD:  See?  Cheer up, Master.  You were loved by dogs.  That was the best thing!

“To err is human, to love, canine”, Alexander Pup.

M:  Pope, that is, Richie!

HD:  Sorry, Alexander Pope.

M:  And it is “To err is human, to forgive, divine”, Richie.

HD:  Is it?

 

 

 

(A man is reading a paper on a sofa with his dog by its side.)

Man:   Hmmmm, 150 years.  Must have been glorious 150 years, I am sure.

His Dog:  What is?

M:  This department store.  It celebrates its 150th anniversary this year, according to this article.  The shop is famous for its good customer services.   I have heard many people speak highly of it.  That’s all very well, you know.  Apart from the service once given to me, I must say.  It was probably the worst customer service I have ever received.  Well, at least one of the very worst.  I shall never forget it.

HD:  Are you going to oppose the idea of celebration then, Master?

M:  Ha, ha….  Of course, not.  It is none of my business.  But I cannot help telling others what I have experienced whenever this name comes up.

HD:  Then, please do not help.

M:  Help… what?

HD:  I said please tell me the story.  I hope my grammar was alright.

M:  Ha, ha, Richie, you are funny.

Anyway, it happened 2 years ago, that is before your time, Richie.  I wish you had been with me then.  You could have helped me keep my sanity, I am sure.

HD:  I am sorry you are insane.

M:  What?  I am quite OK!  …I believe!

HD:  I thought you said you have gone insane, Master.

M:  Well, temporarily, yes, I think.  It actually drove me mad at the time.

HD:  I am pleased you have un-maddened.

M:  Un-…???

HD:  Recovered, I mean.  What happened 2 years ago?

M:  Well, it was just after Christmas.  It all started when I ordered a large laundry basket online from this department store.  The one similar to that standing there, Richie.  Not that one, but the similar one.

When you order, you can choose whether you go to the shop for collection or you want it to be delivered to you.  Look, Richie, it is huge.  Not heavy but large enough for you to get in rather comfortably.  No, no, Richie, do not try it now!!

HD:  Maybe later.

M:  No, please don’t.  Anyway, it was too big for me to carry all the way from the shop, and of course if I took a taxi, that would cost far more than the delivery charge.  Naturally, I chose the home delivery option.  As it was nearing the end of the year, I checked if it would be delivered before the New Year.  They said the 28th was the last possible date for the delivery that year.  “OK”, I chose the date.

I asked about the delivery time.  From 8 in the morning to 6 in the evening, they said.  This meant the whole day, you know, or the whole working hours, at least.

HD:  That was the clever way to say they did not know the time.

M:  Exactly.  I further asked if they would call me on the way to let me know they were coming.  They would not.  “Oh, well, I could stay at home for a day waiting”, I thought.  There were things to do.

They might come the first thing in the morning, so I finished my breakfast early, before 8, just in case.  They did not come.  It became 10, then 11, nothing happened.  Then, the clock struck.  It was midday.  Nothing.  “Well”, I told myself, “these things normally happen in the afternoon”, and kept concentrating on what I was doing.  It became 2 o’clock.  No doorbell.  3, 4, 5….  Nothing.  “OK, sometimes it comes at the very last moment”.  And…now, it was 6.  No delivery… at all!

HD:  Humans lie.

M:  That’s right, Richie.  I was good, though, and waited another 10 minutes.  Nothing, of course.  Now I picked up the phone and dialled the customer service’s number.  You know, Richie, then came the same old recorded messages and long wait….

HD:  Waistline.

M:  That’s it!

Eventually a man answered.  I told him there was no delivery despite the previous arrangement.  Now, his answer was a most unexpected one!  The delivery people came to my home and rang the bell several times, but no answer.  There was nothing they could do but to bring the item back to their warehouse!!  So they came, didn’t they?!  And I was not there, was I?  There was nothing for them to do, was there?  I had been here all day all the time, and I knew no one came.  No doorbell, no calling.  How dare they could tell such a lie?

HD:  To impress you, perhaps.

M:  No, Richie, no!!  Anyway, the important thing now, was to make sure it would be delivered.  I tried to calm down and asked him to arrange the delivery again for the day after.  His answer?  Well, he said that day was the last possible delivery date of the year as they had already told me.  “Sorry, sir, but no delivery until the 4th January”!!

Whaaat?!  “It was your fault, you can make an exception, surely”, I retorted.  “No, sir, sorry.  It should be the 4th January.  We cannot do otherwise, sir”.  “Oh, OK, OK…then deliver it on the 4th.  But make sure that it definitely comes this time!”

So, there I was, on the 4th January, again at home waiting from 8 in the morning.  But this time, I was not expecting it to come very early.  I knew they were not particularly keen, nor was I.  It came about 2 in the afternoon.  Not bad.  Not too bad, I thought.

HD:  Brilliant, Master!

M:  No, Richie, it was not!!

I opened the large box and took the contents out, examining it.  Oh, my God…!!  It was broken!!  The board at the bottom was dismantled…!  I was speechless, for a while.  Then I took the phone again.  After the wait, I told the man who answered that it was broken and I wanted the replacement.  What do you think he said, Richie?

HD:  “It must have been a very heavy dog”.

M:  What?   No, no.   He said that I should bring the item back to the shop!  Or send it by post!  Only when they received the broken item, then they would dispatch the replacement!

HD:  Sounds rather fair to me….

M:  Yes, maybe, the latter part was.  But listen, the former part, Richie.  I ordered the delivery, originally, as the item was too big to carry.  And now they wanted me to carry it to the shop, or to the post office, or anywhere in that sense!!??  Ridiculous!  Simply ridiculous!!

HD:  Humans often do not know what they are doing.

M:  Well, when I tried to explain, he understood.  He said I could just throw it away and he would arrange the replacement delivery.  “Another delivery…”, I thought.  Another day’s wait without any chance to go out all day….

But I should get this done, you know.  Therefore, I agreed to the delivery on the next day.  I asked him, just in case, if there was any possibility to make the delivery time a bit more specific….  Yes, you are right, Richie.  Of course, the answer was no.

The next day I waited as before.  The delivery came about 4 in the afternoon.  By now I did not mind at what time it came.  It came.  That was enough!

HD:  Splendid!

M:  I cannot blame you if you say that.  But, no!   Nooooooooooooooooo!!

Again, I opened the box, put the thing out and examined it…it looked alright.  I tried to open the lid, naturally, then look!  The hinge was broken!!

HD:  A dog was on it this time, not in it.

M:  Oh, Richie….

I telephoned again.  A woman answered this time.  I had to repeat the same claim again.  She advised me to do the same thing as the other person did before.  I refused.  She understood.  But this time, I thought I had had enough!  I did not ask for the replacement.  I just told her I would throw it away, and no more delivery, please refund the money I paid.  You know, Richie, I thought I had better go to a nearby shop and buy one from there.  I was sure I could carry it from there.  Actually, I chose the department store, thinking the quality should have been good.  It was not!!  Two out of two were broken!!  That was 100% probability!!

HD:  Even a dog can calculate that.

M:  Yes, Richie.  I was quite sure the nearby shop sold the better item.

The money would be paid back into my credit card account in 11 working days, she said.  OK, that was reasonable.  I just told her once more please make sure everything would be done without fail.  She promised and apologised for my inconvenience.

Oh, well, that was it.  No more awful delivery, no more waiting, no more broken baskets, I thought.  How wrong I was!!

The next day, I was out and on my way home I popped in to the local shop to buy the similar basket.  That is actually the one which sits there now.

HD:  Ah, good!

M:  No, Richie.  Not good.

When I came home with my newly bought basket, there in front of my door sat the large box, to which I had been so accustomed by then!!  The same packaging, the same logo!!

Somehow, they managed to deliver me another replacement, which, I definitely refused!!  At that moment, I felt all my energy was drawing out from my body.

HD:  Another wasteline?

M:  Exactly. I most certainly did not want another bloody low quality basket!  Now that the item was there with me, however, that meant no refund would be made….    I had to re-arrange the refund, and above all arrange the collection of unwanted basket!

I told the customer service’s guy that I had never had such an awful, tiresome, disgusting experience before, and was not at all happy with their inefficiency in handling the order.  You know what, Richie?  Their excuse was, they did not deliver items themselves, they used the delivery company, and it was this company who was inefficient.

Whaaat!!??  Choose the agent, then.  Instruct them, tell them what they should or should not do!!  If they do not do the right job, change it!  And what about the quality?  Choose the manufacturer and monitor their work.  It was definitely not the services I had expected from such a celebrated store, I said.

“I am very sorry, sir.  I will make sure the refund will properly be made, and, as a gesture of good will, I will arrange to pay an extra £25 into your account, sir, for your inconvenience”, the man said.

HD:  Did he?

M:  Yes.

HD:  And did you duly receive this £25 extra, Master?

M:  Yes, eventually.

HD:  And you bought the better basket from the shop nearby, am I right?

M:  Yes, Richie.  You are right.  It is there, you know.

HD:  Excellent!!  What a happy ending!  I am glad for you, Master.

M:  …..

 

Man:  Hey, Richie, you may be too young to remember, but there was a good old time when a telephone was used only to speak to another person.

His Dog:  I am sorry I am a dog.

M:  What?

HD:  I said I felt sorry I was not a person.

M:  No, no, Richie!  I did not mean that!

I mean, these days it is not easy to talk to a real person on the phone when you need that.  You know, all these pre-recorded messages on helplines!  Press 1 for A, 2 for B…, it goes on and on!  And the machine tells you that you are in a queue.   “You are in the queue position 6”, that sort of thing….  A complete waste of time!

HD:  Wasteline.

M:  Sorry…what?

HD:  If it helps you, it is a helpline.  If it wastes your time, it is a wasteline.  Am I wrong?

M:  Ha, ha!  Richie, that is good!  Ha, ha, ha…you are right!  But I momentarily thought you started to talk about my expanding waistline!

HD:  Good to know yourself.

M:  Well…, …what was I saying?   Yes, the recorded messages.  Today’s one was even worse, Richie!  “Tell us in one word what you want”, it said.  Arrogant, don’t you think?  A machine gives an order to a man!

HD:  Even a dog’s commands come from a man.

M:  Anyway, it works like this.  When you “tell them in one word” what you want, you are then diverted to another pre-recorded message.  This message never gives you any help.  It just says what it wants to say, never what you want to hear.

If you try another word, hoping to avoid this, still happens the same thing.  The same selfish, useless message again and again…..

HD:  Was it on your bill?

M:  Was it what?

HD:  I asked you if they made you pay for this call.

M:  Oh, no, of course not.  It was a free call, obviously.

HD:  Good of them.

M:  RRRRRRRRichie…!!

HD:  (Calmly) I am here, Master.

M:  ….  Richie, that is not the point!  Well, let me tell you the story.

This afternoon while I was working, the internet suddenly went dead…in the middle of, well, everything!  It was disconnected!  Without any warning.  “Oh, my God, what is wrong?”  I thought.  But I was not panicked, Richie, I can tell you.  These things happen.  I have known that by now.  Calmly, I tried to find out what I could do.  Well, these may be a bit difficult for you to follow, but on these occasions, people normally try a few routine things.   Like switching off the computer once, restarting it, or pulling the router’s plug out, and…now, this is an important bit, Richie, waiting for a while, and plugging it in again.  In most cases, one or the other solves the problem.

I switched it off, waited, rebooted it, then took the plug out, waited, and plugged it back in…, you know, the patience is important.  I tried to be very patient, and did these things several times, hoping that the attempts would soon make everything alright.

But…no.  After a while, I realised these did not work.  Thankfully, though, the helpline number was shown on the screen.  The telephone number to call for help, that is.  And that was exactly why I called this number.  To ask a specialist, I mean a person, to tell me what to do.

Then came this recorded message!  It told you to look on the website to find out how to deal with problems!  Great!  The internet was disconnected, that was the reason I wanted a help, and the voice from the helpline told me to look for the answer on the internet!!

I had to speak to a person.  I had to, Richie.

HD:  Thank you, Master.  I am now acquainted with the string of events.

M:  Good.  Well, good of you to understand.

I had to talk to a person.  I had to somehow get through to a person!

I called several times.  Each time I was led to “tell us in one word…” announcement.  Patience, patience….  Actually, I tried a few different words. But, hey, if you say any appropriate word, they just transfer you to this bloody pre-recorded message!!

HD:  I do not like that particular language of yours, Master.

M:  ….  What I tried to say was, YOU COULD NEVER REACH A REAL PERSON!!

HD:  Never?

M:  Well, I could, eventually….

HD:  Well done, Master!  How did you do that?

M:  First, I tried silence.  Without success.  They just repeated the same words.  Then I said, simply, “I want to speak to a person”.  “Speak to a person about what?” they insisted.  So, I decided to repeat what I have said just as they had been doing.  “I want to speak to a person”, “I want to speak to a person”, again and again and again.  Then, you know what, I was transferred to one of the customer service personnel!

HD:  Brilliant!  Did this person help you?

M:  Well, actually, he did.  But only after he demanded that I should do everything I had already done several times!  And, of course, after putting me on hold for quite some time!

HD:  Has he solved your problem?

M:  Yes…eventually.  He was… rather helpful.

HD:  Excellent!!  You have done splendidly, Master. What a nice day!

M:  Nice?  Was it nice?  It took me 85 minutes altogether to get it done!  All this nonsense!!

HD:  You have got it done, Master.  Therefore, it was not nonsense, it was “sense”.

M:  ….  You are a weird dog, Richie!

HD:  Which simply means you are weird, Master.

M:  I am not!

HD:  I am afraid so.  This one is common sense, as you call it.

M:  What common sense?

HD:  Strange people have strange dogs.  It is common sense that dogs mirror their masters.

M:  Is it?

HD:  Of course.  Everyone knows that.  You know, that guy in Barker Street, he famously said that more than once, I think.  And he was right.

M:  Barker Street?  Whom are you talking about?

HD:  The guy who has got successful by sniffing around things which other people normally do not know.  The one from Barker Street.  221B Barker Street.

M:  Ah…, you mean Sherlock Holmes?  Ha, ha, that is Baker Street, dear, 221B Baker Street.

HD:  Oh, is it?

Anyway, that is the guy!  I appreciate his efforts.  He is probably the only one human who is good at sniffing things out.  Like, from where someone is coming, without being told anything.  That is our speciality, you know, Master. We dogs always know where people come from or what occupations they have, just by smelling them.

M:  OK, ok, that is great.  Let us return to the subject.  What did he say?

HD:  He said that dogs reflected their owners’ personality.  “Dangerous people have dangerous dogs.  Sinister people have sinister dogs”.  He was so very true.  He actually proved this theory.

M:  Did he?

HD:  Yes.  “If you want to know what kind of people they are, just look at their dogs”, he said.  Fantastic!  He is a clever guy.

Anyway, that is why I say, if I happened to be weird, which means you are weird, my dear Master.

M:  Hmmmmm…. That actually sounds rather plausible.

HD:  I told you.

 

 

 

A Sunday morning.  A man was reading a paper in a sofa.  His dog was sitting at his feet.  The church bell was ringing loudly, but quite invitingly, from the church next door.

His Dog:  You used to go to church on Sundays, Master.

Man:  Hmmm.

HD:  I have not seen you go recently, Master.

M:  Umm…no.

HD:  Have you realised that the faith cannot help you after all?  Or that God is merely the dog who tries to stand on his head?

M:  Um…no….  …What did you say?

HD:  I spoke about the unreliable nature of human faiths, Master.

M:  No, no, the latter half.

HD:  Ah, God.  God is just another form of a dog, you know, Master.  Try reading it backwards.  I suppose the fact somehow has discouraged you.

M:  Oh, Richie, that is good!  …Ha, ha!    But no.  That is not the reason.

I do not go to church because I do not like the way it has been managed these days.  A management issue, Richie, politics.  Even the church has political issues, you know.

HD:  Yes, humans love politics.  We canines do not.  Anyway, what “political issue” has discouraged you, then, Master?

M:  Well…, some time ago, we had our annual church meeting.  Among other things we had to discuss our finance in it.  That is good, we all need money.

HD:  Luckily, we canines do not.

M:  What happened there then is, Richie, they brought a marketing specialist from the City to lecture us on how to increase the church’s income by clever marketing.  Marketing!?  “Oh, no…”, I thought.  Is the church something to market for…eh, Richie?

HD:  Can you buy a church, say, on websites?

M:  Of course, not.  Well, you may buy a church building, perhaps, in some cases.  But you cannot buy a church community, or worse still, church as a faith.

HD:  You cannot market something which you cannot buy.

M:  Exactly, Richie.  I do not mind if we talk about how to attract people’s interest in church, for example.  But, to market it?  I really loath the idea.  This man even used PowerPoint.  He showed us tables and charts, to explain his marketing strategies to hit the targets.  Marketing strategies!?  What strategies?  What targets?  These words simply cannot come into the same sentence as church, in my opinion.  The church is not a business.  You cannot market a church, or a religion in that sense, like biscuits or a new car!  Disgusting.

I know the church needs money, too, to operate properly.  But when you deal with it as if you deal with a newly selected contestant’s début album, it is wrong!  It certainly is wrong!!  Commercialisation of the church makes it really cheap!

What I am trying to say is that there should have been some other ways to discuss our finance.  A more appropriate one, you know.  I am not feeling happy to belong to a church which has marketing strategies!

HD:  The issue is quite a pawful, I am sure.

M:  What?

HD:  I meant the issue of an appropriate discussion about church finance.

M:  Yes, I know that.  But after “quite”, what did you say?

HD:  A pawful.  Sorry, master, it is the canine equivalent to human handful.  You know, we have no hands.

M: Oh, no.  I understand.

HD:  Thank you.

M:  Anyway, then something else happened recently.  And I must say it was the last straw.

HD:  Oh, the poor camel.

M:  Well, last week we were all sent a form to fill in.  The form in which you were advised to declare how much offering you were planning to give every month, and how much increase you had decided to make this year.  We were told to submit this form with our signatures on it next time we went to church, at the door.  This may sound rather difficult for you Richie, but offerings are all about your good intention not about the amount you pay.

HD:  I remember the story in the Bible, thank you, Master.

M:  Do you?

HD:  Of course.  It was about the poor man who gave everything he had, which seemed to be very small, by other people’s standards.  But Christ loved his conduct.  I love the story.  We do not mind if the amount is small or large when we see the money, either.

M:  Well, that is a bit different, actually…but well done, Richie.  You are clever.

HD:  Have you only noticed it now?

M:  No, no.  You always have been clever, I know that.

HD:  That is a relief.

M:  Now, along with the form, they sent us a list of things with which we entertained ourselves, with the cost each of them incurred.  A daily paper, a cup of coffee, a concert ticket, a dinner at a restaurant, a holiday in Southern France, and so on.  It was as if we all have plenty of money and tend to spend a lot on our leisure alone.  No, Richie, we are not all doing well or even solvent.

HD:  I know that, perhaps more than any other dogs, Master.

M:  Well, it is rather insulting to the people, like me, who are struggling.  Discouraging, even, I think.  How can they dare to assume everyone is doing well but reluctant to help others?  Of course there are people who are always ready to spend much for their own pleasure, but not at all for the sake of others.  But that is not everyone.  Have they ever thought of the people, like me, Richie, who are struggling to pay bills, loans and mortgages, etcetera?  The way they talked was like saying that we were all affluent sinners, and because of that they could justify the form they wanted us to fill in, which is not true.  You know, some of us are struggling, but are still willing to give according to our own situations.  The offering should be like that.  It is said in the Bible as you have just said, Richie.

HD:  St Bernard called such a person “a cheerful giver” in his letter to Corinthians.

M:  That is St Paul, Richie, …but otherwise, well done!

HD:  Oh, sorry, Master.  One of our friends is called St Bernard, and that is why I was confused. Unfortunately, there is no dog called St Paul…not yet.

M:  You know, Richie, I am a cheerful giver, though occasionally.  What is wrong with an occasional giver?  A cheerful giver is the one who is ready to give when and how he or she can, but not the one who declares a certain amount of payment each month and pays it by direct debit!  Why do they ask you for such a thing?

HD:  Because it is pawy.

M:  What?

HD:  The direct debit is considered handy by many humans.

M:  Oh, I know what you mean now, Richie.  Yes, it may be handy, especially for them, ha, ha, ha.

Anyway, one man’s tenner is another man’s million!  The whole thing is insulting to those who are religious but have some trouble with finance–even offensive!  And the signed form collected at the door of the church?  What could you do if you cannot give a regular offering and feel too ashamed not to have signed the form because of that?  Do they dare not to pass the man at the door into church when they cannot submit the form as they cannot pay regularly?  This almost means if you cannot give an offering, you cannot go to church!

In my opinion, the offering is not the kind of thing to be “advised” to “declare” a “regular payment” on a piece of paper with your signature on it, let alone the form is to be collected at the church door!

You know, I give an offering when I can, as much I can, according to my situation at the time.  And this should be the way of offering and should remain so!

This whole attitude of our church is really disappointing, discouraging, and disgusting.

Now, that is the reason why I do not go to church any more, Richie.

HD:  I see.  Do not worry, my dear Master.  God resides everywhere, not only in church, you know.  You can see him where you think he is.

M:  …Yes, …of course.  Thank you, Richie.

HD:  And I am quite happy to try standing on my head for you, Master, whenever and wherever you like.

 

 

(A man was rushing in from outside to a small, but somehow cosy, living room.  His dog was sitting there by the sofa.)

Man:  Brrrrrrrrrr…….rrrrh…!!  It’s cold!!  It’s freezing!!  Why is it so cold, Richie?!!

His Dog:  (Calmly) Because it is winter, dear Master.

M:  ….

HD:  It was you who told me some time ago that it was cold in winter, if you allow me to remind you, Master.

M:  Did I?  …OK, …fair enough….

Anyway, I met a terrible fate today, Richie!!

HD:  Who was he?

M:  Who was what?

HD:  Mr Terrible Fate.

M:  No, no, Richie!  I did not meet anyone today!

HD:  (“Humans tend to contradict themselves quickly”.)

M:  I mean I had an awful experience today, Richie!!

HD:  (“Humans tend to change subject suddenly and abruptly”.)

M:  I tried to take a bus from King’s Road, Richie.  When I walked to the usual bus stop, though, it said it was Not in Use.  Well, I walked to the next stop, as this normally solves the problem.  They rarely close more than one stop in a row.  But look, actually they did exactly that, today.  The next stop was Not in Use either.  “Oh, well”, I thought, “sometimes for some reason a couple of stops are closed at a time”, and walked to another stop.  You know what, Richie!?  The third stop was also closed.  Unusual.  Now that I had been walking down the street long enough to be far from the Tube by then, which meant there was no other transport available, I just kept walking, wishing that the bus stop next would be in use.  But…no!  It was not, Richie!!  Eventually I found myself walking all down King’s Road to its very end!  And there I saw a road work going on in a small section at the edge of this very long street.    I realised for the first time that the whole street was closed because of this!!  The buses were all diverted.  This tiny digging spot was the cause of the whole closure!!  Can you imagine this, Richie!!?

HD:  I can imagine terriers digging.  Were they terriers?

M:  What?

HD:  Terriers are very good at digging, naturally.  You know the origin of their name, I hope, Master?  The word “terrier” is derived from the Latin word “terra”, which means “earth”.

HD:  Oh, I had no idea….  No, no.  Not terriers!  It’s a road work, Richie, all done by men!

HD:  I am disappointed.

M:  So was I!!

Well, at that time I was already more than 15 minutes later than I had intended to be.  I was on my way to the National Theatre, to see the play, you know.  Anyway, I walked further to the stop next to it, away from King’s Road.  And I waited there for the bus with other people.  I could see now various buses were in operation, which meant it was safe this time, or at least so I thought, Richie!

Then, what do you think happened next?  I waited and waited for the bus I needed.  Only 211 goes to the National, you know.  All the other numbers came and went, but not a single 211!!  I felt desperate.  Now I had a very thin chance of getting to the theatre in time for the play’s start.  All the passing taxies were occupied.  There was nothing I could do but just pray!

HD:  (Calmly) Amen.

M:  After 25 minutes’ waiting, 211 arrived finally.  “Thank God”, I thought, “I might be in time if the streets are not too busy!”

HD:  (Again calmly) The prayer was answered.

M:  I jumped on the bus.  When the bus came to Victoria Coach Station, though, the driver suddenly announced that it was the last stop!!  No other buses were around.  Can you imagine, Richie?!!  He just ordered everyone to change there to the next bus…!!  Damn!!!

I was rather panicking.  I took the next available bus regardless of the number, I mean its destination.  Whatever it was, the bus should take me somewhere a little further, somewhere closer to the National, I thought, I could perhaps walk from there!

But this bus went only 2 stops further in my desired direction.  I got out.  There I waited again for whatever would take me to the National, a bus, taxi, or a horse, camel, or even an elephant!!

HD:  Elephants are slow walkers and camels often decide to sit down on the way.

M:  As you know, Richie, I am the person who usually takes plenty of time to reach the destination, and today was no exception.  I left about 90 minutes before the start of the play, and it normally takes me 45 minutes to get to the National.  But now I only had 10 minutes left with me!!  Jesus Christ!!  When I screamed that in my mind, 211 came at last.  “Good heavens, it is now a race against time!!”

Of course it makes no difference if I run on the bus, you know.  So I sat quietly almost giving up the play I had already paid for….

We came to Waterloo station at the exact time that the play was supposed to start.  I knew I had missed it, as you are not allowed to go in once the play has started.  But I ran anyway.  I ran and ran, actually not knowing why I was doing so, to be honest.

HD:  We often run for the sake of running.

M:  I arrived in front of the theatre doors where my play was on, just 10 minutes late.  But, behold, the doors were still closed and the people were queuing.  “Thank God!!  I was in time, somehow”, I thought.

I went straight to the end of the queue closest to me, listening to the other people talking.  It seemed there was some technical failure, and the play was delayed.  It would start 15 or so minutes later. “Wow!!  This is a miracle!!”

HD:  Your prayer really was answered.

M: When I reached the top of the queue, however, the attendant at the door told me that I was in the wrong queue, and my seat should be approached from the other door.  “Oh, ppplease…!!!  Both doors lead to the same floor, and the theatre is not sectioned!!”  He did not accept this, though.

I staggered towards the other door and to the end of the queue there, completely exhausted….

 

A few minutes later, I was in the theatre, and in my booked seat.  The lights were off and the people became silent.  I stared at the stage, with feelings of disbelief, wonder, gratitude, relief and some indignation.

Damn, Transport for London!!  They charge us obscene amount of fare, and the services are never ever reliable.  This is wrong, Richie!  It should not go on like this!  We cannot do this all the time, eh?  …Richie?!

HD:  I am doing this all the time, Master.  And quite well, thank you.

M:  Doing what?

HD:  Being a dog.

M:  Oh, …OK.

HD:  Don’t worry, Master.  As far as I can see, you are doing well, too.

M:  Am I?

HD:  Yes, not perfect, of course, but well enough….

M:  It is good of you to say so, whatever you mean.

HD:  Yes, Master.  I mean, being a human.  I suppose that is why you men sometimes call yourselves human-beings, don’t you? …When you are in a philosophical mood.  Actually, we dogs are also called canine-beings, philosophically.

M:  Do you know philosophy, Richie?

HD:  Of course.

M:  I did not know that.

HD:  Yes, I do.  Sufficient enough to tell you this.

M:  Umm…OK.

HD:  Were you late for the play?

M:  No.

HD:  Excellent!  I am pleased to hear that, Master.  Great day, then.

M:  Well…, that was good, indeed.  It’s almost a miracle that I was not late!

HD:  I told you your prayer was answered.

M:  But…, I mean, I was exhausted after all this, you know, too unnecessarily tired.

HD:  Then I recommend you to go to bed.  The best thing, when you are tired, is to sleep, Master.  Actually, in my book, the best thing, and the second best thing, and the third and fourth and fifth best thing, when you are tired, is to sleep.

M:  And what is the sixth?

HD:  Dogs are supposed to be able to count only to 5.

M:  Are you?  …Fair enough.