Write On!

              With my first strum across the strings, the dog opened with his own
rendition of opera. He howled as if the banshees had him in their grasp!
" Quiet," I admonished him. ' This is how I get money. If you want to
eat, cooperate."
As I switched to another song, he too switched to an even more
dreadful racket.
" Quiet!" I commanded in my sharpest voice. " Sit! Quiet!"
He looked at me with his head cocked, as if with intelligence, and
stopped the clamor. Thinking I had finally succeeded, and with some pride in
my voice of command, I started a soft, sentimental ballad. This sad tearjerker
usually netted me quite a few coins and I played it well... for about six chords,
then the mutt joined in with his mournful howl!
I tried everything. I yelled at him, cursed him, even begged him but
he couldn't, or wouldn't, desist from singing along. Finally, in fit of acerbic
rage, worsened by my need for a drink, I grabbed him by the scuff of the neck
and frog- stepped him back the way we had come. I don't know, exactly, what I
planned to do; I just wanted to get rid of him. He responded to this treatment
with a high pitched whine that grated on my ragged nerves and, when I jerked
him even more roughly, he fell into a three- legged limp.
" For Pete's sake," I raged at him. " I'm the injured party here, You're
the one who caused this whole problem. Now just go away! Get lost!"
He limped off a few feet, turned and looked at me in his beseeching
way, and continued to whine. I turned to walk away, but soon realized that he
was slinking along behind me, tail down and back humped as if it was him, not
me, that needed the drink.
" Oh my," said a soft voice near me, " what a sad little dog. Is he
yours?"
" No", I started to say. " He's just..."
" I love dogs," said the young woman of the voice. " It's so obvious that
you and your dog have hit on some hard times. Let me give you a few dollars
for food for the two of you."
She reached into her wallet and handed me two crisp tens; more
money than I had seen at one time in many months.
" What's his name?" she asked.
" Well," I stammered, " I don't know if he has a name". Seeing her look
of consternation and fearing the loss of my windfall, I quickly continued, " I just
call him Dog."
" You be sure to buy food for the both of you and have a good meal,"
she said as she walked away.
I looked at the money. It would buy four bottles of rotgut and I was
strongly tempted. I needed a drink. I always needed a drink. I turned towards
my favorite liquor store but a soft whimper made me turn around. For the first
time I noticed that he looked half- starved and the look of hope in his eye
reached even my scarred heart. Well, maybe I could get just a bit of food and
still have money left over for booze.
" Come on, Dog. Let's chow down before I change my mind."