It's a big bad world.
Word has gotten out to all the dogs in the 'hood that I was canoodling with Cleo the cat and it's not difficult to guess who is spreading the word: Ginger. Even when I'm inside I can hear her yap-yap-yapping to whoever will listen to her. "Hey! You! Idiot lab! Yeah! You! Across the street! You know that little white Jack Russle with the brown ears! Yeah! Leo! He's fucking a cat! Yeah! Spread the word!" Because Ginger is a yappy dog and extremely territorial, none of the humans are taking any notice but their dogs are. "Oh my God! That's disgusting!" one of the dogs yowled back at her two days ago.
When I go out for my own walks I pray like mad I won't run into anyone I know and so far, so good. I did see Benjie but Benjie being Benjie (a nice, old-lady's dog) he just snerfed and said, "Things will be all right."
I even tried to talk to Ginger but she raged at me: "Don't you talk to me, you little pig-dog. I know what you do! I know what you are!"
I even got a little pissed with her and said, "If you'd given me so much as the time of day, this probably wouldn't have happened, you evil cock-tease!"
"Don't you dare use that tone with me!" she snarled. "You know you're in the wrong! You know it! You know it! You know it!"
Her "You know it!" was still ringing in my ears when I was snuggling with Skeeter, yesterday.
He looked down at me and said, "You look perturbed."
"It's not a good thing to be a dog, right now," I said.
"It's Ginger, isn't it?"
"How did you know?" I asked.
"She's shrieking more than usual. Spreading the word, I imagine."
"Yes."
We were very quiet after that. But last night...
We were walking along, enjoying the brisk spring air and were almost done for the evening when there she was, running at me like she always runs at me, except this time it wasn't to flirt but to continue her tirade. Her mistress was off talking to one of the neighbours and didn't notice that Ginger was berating me because her noise is such a constant around here that it's not even noted anymore. That's when Skeeter swooped her up in his arms—something he has never done—and pretended he was making nice-nice with her. Skeeter waved at Ginger's mistress who waved back.
"Listen to me you little bitch," he hissed at Ginger, "and I know you understand me, so don't play dumb and don't say another fucking word...just listen." Ginger froze in his arms. "If you continue trash-talking Leo all over the street, I am going to tell your lady what you are saying. She's 'different' too and she wouldn't like it one bit."
Ginger snerfed a laugh because she knew this wasn't going to happen. Refusing to speak English she said to me in Dawg, "Tell him the whole fucking street will think he's crazy." I did and he nodded at this.
He thought for a moment then said, "You know all that running around off leash you do that everyone finds so charming? How about if I spread it around that you're a biter—tell every woman with a carriage or a toddler to keep away from you because you're dangerous? How soon before you're back on a leash, or worse, kept at home? That would sure keep your little gossip's tongue from wagging about, wouldn't it!"
The worst thing in the universe had just happened to Ginger: she had been bested by a human. That can ruin a reputation and I told her so. She snerfed, but not so light-heartedly this time. She toddled back to one-legged Gingerlady like nothing was wrong, but she was grumbling the whole way. My, my, my that little bitch was some pissed off.
There is no way this is over. Whispering campaigns can sometimes be worse than yapping campaigns. But it looked like the lid was back on the boiling pot for a while and that was good enough for me.
When we got back to the apartment I was full of piss and vinegar and started to tear around. Boo-Boo asked, "What's with him?"
"He has energy to burn off, I suppose. We ran into Ginger and things got crazy."
I yodeled for Skeeter without him even asking me too.
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