Balance

Lady laid out on the downstairs carpet, her delicate head and chocolatey eyes fixated on the scale that stood the table. It was a crude ornament that Jim Dear had bought some years before at a local bazaar, and while at first the humans had been fascinated by it, they soon found it tiring. Darling had just brought it back down from the attic this week. Lady had watched with fascination as both sides of the scale balanced and the sloping arms became horizontal. Jim Dear was frustrated with the thing and couldn't understand why Darling wanted it here in the den.

"I think our house could use a little more balance," the human said knowingly.

Jim Dear looked a little ashamed when he came to kiss Darling goodnight. "I am sorry, Darling. I'll try to give us more time together this week," he said.

Then the lights were turned off and Lady watched her humans ascend the moonlit stairs with the Baby in tow. Lady's own offspring were no longer babies. Her three daughters were growing into fiery, territorial spaniels. Scamp was getting bigger everyday and although he wasn't domestically tiresome like the girls, he was still handful because he kept running away.

Lady wondered about her son. She loved him but she didn't understand him. Even after the horrors of street life and the pound, still Scamp was not entirely happy at home. He was much the same way his father had been some season before.

"No, no, past all that!" Tramp had said when Lady focused her eyes on only human neighborhoods. Tramp's eyes looked beyond to the wild woods and fiery sunrise. There was a great big world out there where anybody could find adventure and purpose and freedom. "And it's all ours pig," Tramp had said. "It's all ours."

But Lady had turned him down; she did not wan a wild life where survival was struggle. Although at that point Lady did love Tramp—their night together had been unforgettable—she did not love him enough to follow him just anywhere. That was before Tramp had shown himself capable of true love, not just girl-chasing; before he had sacrificed his street freedom to live with Lady. Now, if ever there was need, Lady was willing to follow her dog wherever he went.

Scamp preferred to see things differently than did Tramp. He truly loved his family and was humbled by his father's rescuing him from the Dog Pound. However, his heart was still eaten up by wanderlust. He wanted more freedom than what this good little homey New England town offered. "No rules to control me," he sang, "where I can run free! A world without walls and fences, that's the world I want for me!"

Lady shook her head. She was happy with her life even if her feisty daughters were always pawing for more authority than her. Lady could not understand how or why Scamp could want anything more.

No sooner had she though this than Lady was startled by a small crash. She scampered to the back door and saw Scamp, having just come in from the window, buried among the remains of a fallen vase.

"Oh, Scamp!" she shouted, frustrated and concerned. "You broke Darling's vase! Are you alright?"

"Owwwwch," Scamp groaned, emerging from the mess with several cuts on his furry hide. "I didn't mean to. The stupid thing fell over when I came in the window."

Lady called fro Darling with a few yippy barks. "Now, dear," she said to her son, "I don't suppose you want to tell me why you were out at this hour."

Scamp cringed in apprehension of punishment. "I had to go, Mom," he said. "The moon was calling and there were alleys to explore!"

"Of all the stupid puppies," Tramp barked, trotting in swiftly. "When I said you could go out at night, I didn't mean you could do it alone an unsupervised!"

"Dad, I'm not a puppy. I'm a dog!"

"A very young dog," Tramp snorted.

Just then Jim Dear and Darling came down the stairs, flicked on the lights, and exclaimed din horror. Scamp was forced to be still while they bathed and put slave on his cuts, after which they gave him a pillow to sleep on before retreating upstairs. Normally the humans would be angrier, but they were always concerned when a dog was injured. They were careful to close the windows.

"Scamp? Tramp? Lady? What's going on?" Angel came sleepily downstairs. When she saw Scamp's wounds, her eyes grew wide with concern. "Are you okay?"

"Me? I'm fine, little lady," said Scamp proudly. "These are just a few battle scars won by a tough old hero."

Angel smiled and came over as if to nuzzle him. She knocked him over instead. "Take that, tenderfoot. You should be grown-up enough to run off like that…without me!"

"Ahem," Tramp interrupted. "Angel, with all due respect, we don't need you encouraging Scamp. He needs to learn to do what he's told! I've told him time and time again that rules are for our own good."

"I know!" Scamp rolled his eyes. "But I'm not a baby, dad!"

"Debatable."

"I think Scamp might a point," Angel said. "I mean, he really does follow most rules. And he's old enough to decide for himself what's good for him."

"What?" Tramp thundered. "Are you saying you want to go back to the streets?!"

"Please dear, clam down," Lady implored. "I'm sure Scamp doesn't mean that."

"No, I don't," Scamp agreed. "All I want is a little more respect and freedom."

Lady backed away as the three other dogs argued among themselves. She looked into the den and was again aware of the scale that stood unbalanced on the coffee table.

"Scamp, Tramp, Angel."

All three stopped their talk as Lady entered the room again. "I think our house could use a little more balance," the Cockerspaniel said serenely. Like a voice of reason she spoke into all their hearts. "what we need is a compromise. Scamp, you have to stop going out at night without our permission. And we all need to start treating you like the adult you are. When you're old enough," she smiled at Scamp, "you will be able to go wherever you want."

"Really? Scamp asked, tail wagging.

"Really," said Lady.

Scamp glanced at his father, and the older dog nodded very reluctantly. There was no other way. What they need was a balance between the uptight, rule-abiding housedog life and the dangerous, reckless street life.

"Well then," Angel yawned, "if you're all done blabbering, I wan to go to bed."

"Okay with me!" said Scamp, following.

Tramp nipped at his son's tail. "Stay on your own pillow!"

Lady should her head and smiled. The scales were evening out.

Scamp did stay on his own pillow, and long into the night he dreamed of wild woods and fiery sunrises. One day in the future he would stand on the hilltop in the park and leave his family. A hundred ideas raced like winds through his head. And the day he left, his family would look after him, knowing that he could return if he needed or wanted to, because they would always love him.

When that day came, Lady thought, imagining it in her head, she couldn't help but be tempted to join him.

The End