Plenty of Trouble {Tramp}

[Basil]

It was early morning in the Animal Kingdom, and Toby the hound was trotting alone through the park.

While waiting for Basil to awaken and bring him his breakfast, the dog had wandered away without really meaning to. Toby rarely misbehaved or disobeyed on purpose; but he did a great many things without thinking, sometimes getting into trouble.

And there were so very many interesting sights, sounds, and especially smells around, that he quite forgot himself, straying further and further away, until he found himself here.

[Tramp]

Tramp walked along sniffing in a breath of fresh air and let out a deep breath, saying to himself, "This is livin'!"

And it was. The Animal Kingdom was beautiful this early in the morning. Tramp had always been a light sleeper and an early waker. After all, the early bird gets the worm. Spotting a dog across the way Tramp slowed his steps.

"Well, would you look at that? Another pooch around here!" He exclaimed to himself, before trotting over to investigate this new fellow.

[Basil]

Toby's investigations were interrupted by the arrival of a strange dog. His ears perked up with interest.

"Hello, I am Toby," he said, accompanied by a friendly tail wag. "What kind of dog are you?"

[Tramp]

"Hello, I am Toby, What kind of dog are you?"

Tramp waved his tail back and went to scratching his ear with his hind leg, before sitting back lazily on his haunches. Thinking of the house pet back home in Paris, Jock, he smiled. It had been awhile before he had run into another dog.

"Well hello yourself," Tramp said with a wink. "You'd be looking at a genuine born Mutt, Laddie. The name's Tramp."

[Basil]

"Hello, Tramp. But my name's not 'Laddie.' It's Toby."

The dog frowned in concentration. Hadn't he said that already?

Toby had never heard of a 'mutt' before. "I am a tracker. I track down the bad people for my master."

"What does a mutt do?"

[Tramp]

"Hello, Tramp. But my name's not 'Laddie.' It's Toby."

Tramp smirked, "Yeah, well of course. My apologies. You see, I was just working on my Scottish, aye laddie?" He did it again just to kid the dog. "Okay okay, right. Toby."

"I am a tracker. I track down the bad people for my master."

"Sounds like a lively job. So, you a house pet then? Working for the master? Fascinating." Tramp surveyed the dog before him intently.

"What does a mutt do?"

"A mutt don't do. A Mutt is. You see, I wasn't born pure, I'm a mix of kinds, instead of just one, you dig?" He stood and busied himself with trying to see if there were any burs on his tail, walking in circles, his eyes narrowed and determined. He finally gave up and yawned lazily, sitting down.

[Basil]

you dig?

"Oh, yes, I love to dig! Do you like to dig?"

If the truth be known, Toby was rather naive, and the streetwise Tramp mystified him. But then, the hound wasn't yet full grown, and he had led a relatively sheltered life.

"I could dig right now." And he suited action to words, paws working rapidly as he sent the well-manicured turf flying in all directions.

Toby stopped abruptly. "Oh. My Master doesn't like it when I dig."

[Tramp]

"Oh, yes, I love to dig! Do you like to dig? I could dig right now."

Tramp shook his head, "I spose' I like to dig but that's not what I meant. I meant do you...Oy, I give up." He watched the dirt flying past him with amused eyes, still shaking his head. This Toby was sure a kick. But Tramp supposed he had a good sniffer, so he could admire that.

"Oh. My Master doesn't like it when I dig."

That caught Tramp's attention, "Ah, very true. But your master is not here, is he? Ease up, buddy! Live a little, what will it hurt?" Tramp just didn't understand following commands'. Tramp had no loyalties to humans.

[Basil]

But your master is not here, is he?

Toby thought about this a moment. He looked down, then all around, sniffing with extreme concentration.

"No, my Master is not here. Definitely not here."

what will it hurt?

"Nothing, I think. Digging is fun. I wonder why my Master doesn't like it?" Toby chuckled a doggie chuckle. "You should see how he looks when he catches me digging. It is so funny! He stands so straight and his head goes down and his voice sounds different..."...the hound dropped his a few registers..."...like this: 'Nonobaddog!' "

Just the thought made Toby roll in the dirt with laughter. Which was another thing the Master didn't much like.

[Tramp]

"No, my Master is not here. Definitely not here. Nothing, I think. Digging is fun. I wonder why my Master doesn't like it?"

Tramp scratched his ear again before straightening, "Why it's absolutely positively logical that your master doesn't like it. Masters are nitpicky. Don't do this. Don't do that. You'll get dirt on the carpet. They like you one second and then it's the lectures the next."

"You should see how he looks when he catches me digging. It is so funny! He stands so straight and his head goes down and his voice sounds different......like this: 'Nonobaddog!' "

Tramp was amused at the imitation Toby did, and chuckled a little, before stating more seriously, "Sounds amusing But if I were you and some master yelled at me, I'd give him a little present on the carpet and dig up his flowerbeds, show him who's really in charge."

Tramp watched Toby roll around on the ground, smirking, though he hoped this master of his wouldn't go positively ballistic when he saw Toby's now dirty coat.

[Basil]

Toby sat up and gave Tramp a quizzical look.

"The Master yells a lot. Do you really think I should dig up the flowers?"

The hound shook himself, sending even more dirt flying. This dog had a lot of new ideas that sounded strange to Toby. Still, he did like digging up flowers. They looked so much better strewn about than standing up straight.

"Doesn't your master yell?"

[Tramp]

"The Master yells a lot. Do you really think I should dig up the flowers?"

Tramp tipped his head to the side thoughtfully. "You can do it, as long as you do it right. Now, you see Toby, there are two approaches. Number one, the I-didn't-mean-to approach. You lay down on the ground, your ears are down, your tail is still and drooping and you give him the most mournful forlorn look you can muster. He'll be sorry he ever yelled at you. That's for the more sensitive pups, you di-understand? Okay, now approach number two. You stand your ground and let him do all the yelling he wants to. Take any punishment he gives ya and don't so much as make a peep. You give him this stare and hold it until he leaves. Show him you don't like his yelling, you don't like it one bit at all! Like this!"

Tramp narrowed his eyes and stood tall, his chin up in defiance, a scowl crossing his snout.

"Approach number two is for brave daring pooches like myself. You could go either way. Both are much effective, trust me pal."

"Doesn't your master yell?"

Tramp laughed. "My master? Yell? No, I've never had a master. I don't hold to depending on anybody but me, that's the way I've always lived, and it works swell for me."

Tramp wouldn't admit the fact that when he was little, all he wanted was for one human to look at him with compassion, like he belonged to them. Tramp was over that stage. He knew that it was the only way to be independent, there was no room for lonely, at least that's what he tried to tell himself.

[Basil]

"Never had a master?" Toby repeated with surprise. He'd seen dogs without masters roaming the alleys of London, but never actually spoken with them.

Trying to imagine such a life, the hound asked, "Then who scratches your ears?"

You can do it, as long as you do it right

"I would like to do it right. Right is good. I think I will try them now."

Toby lay down flat, head and tail drooping, looking as sad as he could manage. His large, expressive eyes gazed heavenward, as though imploring an unseen mouse detective.

Jumping up, tail wagging furiously, Toby cried, "That was easy! I do that all the time! Now I will try the other one."

Struggling to remember the mutt's instructions, Toby planted his short legs widely apart, pulled his head back, and scowled. Admittedly, he looked a bit cross-eyed, but he held the pose for a few moments before dissolving in a fit of canine laughter.

[Tramp]

"Never had a master? Then who scratches your ears?"


Tramp nodded to his first question, "Nup, never."

He had to think a little about the second question. He shrugged, "Nobody I guess..."

"I would like to do it right. Right is good. I think I will try them now."

Tramp watched closely observing his performance of approach one. He nodded in approval, "As long as your owner has any bit of a heart, he'll fall for that right quick."

"That was easy! I do that all the time! Now I will try the other one."

Tramp tried to suppress a chuckle at the expression on Toby's face, he didn't quite look as angry as much as he looked like he had to do his business. He shook his head with a smirk as Toby bust into a laughing fit, rolling on the ground.

"Now quit that, Toby. This is serious business," Though Tramp was still smirking. "I say you should go for the first approach, you are more experienced in that area of sentimental expertise."

[Basil]

Now quit that, Toby. This is serious business

Heh! That was just what the Master said all the time! But Toby stopped nonetheless and paid attention to Tramp's advice.

"Thank you for all your help. You are very kind. I can't wait to try this on the Master."

A sudden thought made Toby look around wistfully. "I wonder where he is. I would like my breakfast. I am very hungry."

Maybe he shouldn't have wandered so far away if he expected to be fed that morning.