He was slowly getting used to it. He had to. He had no other choice. The old woman put the collar on him and attached the lead to it. It was so humiliating – he felt like a slave. The woman was well in her seventies and was 20 kilos overweight. In her trembling, spotted hand she held a muzzle. Why was she doing this? Had she ever wondered how unpleasant it was? And what if somebody muzzled her - how would she felt then? He turned around. What is this game all about? Why all this dressing up? Unfortunately, a dog has got to do what a dog has got to do, when he is dependant on someone. Sometimes it takes to stand to the whims of the old lady. After all, if it weren’t for her, he would be just as skinny as those, who were left behind. Instead of a nice fat, he would have a keyboard of ribs under his skin. He felt that the woman was getting irritated, but had to show that he didn’t like it at all, just for the sake of his pure, congenial perversity.
“Benjamin! Benjamin, turn back at once!” – She wanted her trembling, squeaky voice to sound masterfully, but it was sidesplitting instead. - “Benjamin, do you hear me? You nasty, you!”
You are lucky that you give me such good food – he thought. – In other case I wouldn’t stand that chattering.
He turned back to avoid beating with the lead. A few times, when he went too far, he got a good thrashing, and it hurt. An unpleasant variety of everyday routine. She bent to attach the torture tool. Her face, red from anger, was covered with a network of small wrinkles and beads of sweat. She started to breathe heavily. Was she really enjoying this? He felt an unpleasant odor – some garlic, a bit of onion and the worst one: smell of indigestion coming straight from her intestines. The smell was horrifying but he couldn’t turn away; he would certainly got a beating if he did. That he was absolutely sure of. He could only take a deep breath and try to survive. It wouldn’t be so bad if it weren’t for those trembling, clumsy hands. Unfortunately, snapping always lasted too long. He felt that he would soon become the world champion in a new discipline: a breath holding. The worst thing was that even a champion had to give up sometimes. He felt dizzy. He heard his heartbeat. And the dame was flabbily fighting with the snap, and the end of this fight wasn't near.
The spring was in full blossom. The sun was shining. The birds were singing joyfully, flirting with one another. There was a scent of freshly mowed grass in the air. Benjamin felt that now was the time to do this. He was waiting for this moment far too long.
He squatted down.
“Benjamin! Not on the sidewalk!” - his oppressor was yelling. “Go to the lawn!”
Oh God, I can’t even crap like a man, in peace – thought the annoyed dog and went to look for a better (according to her criteria) place. He has suffered so much. Since six in the morning, for three and a half hours he was scratching the door, trying to signal that it was the time.
Every day the same thing. Humiliating whimpers at the door. He didn’t have the courage to demonstratively crap on the carpet, although he often felt like it. He knew far too well what the outcome would be.
Lead! Pain! Sometimes he thought he was going insane. Not only the terrifying name, but also leads, collars, muzzles! Additionally, whenever he was getting ready to flirt and was about to catch some cute female, she was always yelling... “here!” and she took him home. He couldn’t even relieve himself in peace, because she was beginning to scold. Because something was not the way she wanted! Ugh, what a life...
If it weren’t for the delicious food, he wouldn’t stand up to that treadmill. The price was high, however the delicacies he was getting were first class. Everyday some fresh meat. Delicious, delicate dog snacks. Mmmm, yum – yum!
When he was a puppy and lived in a shelter, he was often hungry. He got only scraps, once in two or three days. He had to fight for better bites. There were plenty of mouths eager to eat. In the winter, he spent all days curled up, without a move. Every move was a nightmare to the chilled dog – it made him fell the cold even more. Autumn wasn’t much better; storms and rain. Wet fur, brrr!
Yes, he had to be honest – it wasn’t so bad with the old woman.
Every month the memories got weaker and weaker. Every day he felt more of the poverty and humiliations she was giving him.
Bad time has come on us, Benjamin. - She sighed with resignation. - We have a problem. No money left. You wouldn’t understand, but my pension is too small for me to buy the kind of food you are used to. I can’t afford it darling.
More or less, he understood what was going on. The tone in her voice, troubled look on her face and the usual time of feeding him with fresh, bloody meat, made him guess what the bad news was about.
It was about his delicacies.
He looked at her, asking. The old lady reached to the fridge and something rattled into Benjamin’s bowl. It wasn’t the sound of meat. The smell was also weird. She put the bowl on the floor. He took a glimpse. No way! Was she joking? She put a handful of picked chicken bones into his bowl! Was this supposed to be his dinner? Well, she decided to tighten his belt. She probably wants to check how much further she can go in the art of humiliating him. The sadist!
She knew she was disappointing him, but she couldn’t do anything else. Up to then she was often denying herself many things just for her four- legged darling to have the best. She was really trying. She often visited a couple of different shops and comparing prices, to save as much as she could; for Benjamin. Unfortunately, the latest increase in prices destroyed all her efforts. Now, to live through the month they have to live sparingly.
She was looking at her darling doggie. The “Doggie”, a well-grown rottweiler was looking at her. He made a dash. He knocked the old woman down and with one snap of his jaws he mutilated her throat.
Fresh, hot meat...
