For the past few hours, Dingbat had done absolutely nothing but lie and stare at the sunshine. In order to make his life as simple as possible, he chose what to do depending on the weather. On a rainy day, he'd jump about the kitchen aimlessly and sometimes stare out of the window. On a windy day, he'd nudge a ball around with his nose. When it was a bright, sunny day, he'd lounge around until his beloved Dot came home.
Just then, his ears picked up the sound of the front door opening and he ran to the hallway, knowing it was either Dot or an unwanted intruder to deal with, barking slightly in case it was the latter. The protective barking turned to a joyful panting when he clearly saw it was Dot; he'd always recognise that lush, light hair tucked into a ponytail, those blue eyes behind those spectacles, those jeans and the way her face would light up when she saw him. Actually, the last factor seemed to be missing, as her face was twisted into a frown that seemed so out of place on her. Worry and confusion gripped Dingbat as he saw Dot just walk up the stairs without paying him any attention. Did she not want him anymore? What could be bothering her so much that she could ignore him? Slumping up the stairs, he intended to find out.
After being with this family for so many years and listening to their conversations and watching telly with them, he had picked up a bit of English, though he could never speak it. Though he did not enter the living room – a gut feeling told him it was not right to – he lay outside the door, eavesdropping. From what he could pick up, Dot and Marcus had had a bit of a falling out, and they had broken up. Dingbat certainly felt sorry for Dot about the ordeal, and yet there was a certain sense of inevitability about it. When he first had laid eyes on Marcus, he knew there was something not right about him. Something that made him growl and bark until calmed down by the soft fingers of his keeper. Over the short time he had interacted with Marcus, he had grown to tolerate him – he was his friend's boyfriend after all – but still had that tiny feeling of distrust. Now that the tiny feeling had been justified, he supposed he had better do whatever he could about it.
A while after Dot had explained the situation to Mum, Dingbat slowly crept in, his eyes wide and watery. Making his way to the despondent Dot, he tried to comfort her by giving all he could offer; a nudge of her hand with his muzzle and a tiny lick.
"Dingbat." Once again he nudged her hand, and this time, she rewarded him for it, rubbing his head and stroking his coat as if merely his looking at her had made all her problems vanish. Still trying to make her day just a bit lighter, Dingbat wagged his tail in hopes that his happiness would be contagious. Finally, he rose up towards Dot's face and gave it a huge kiss, staining her face with slobber but giving her a good giggle. "Oh, Dingbat." After that display of affection, Dot walked out of the room and came back, with leash in hand. The mere sight of the leash was enough to drive Dingbat into frenzy, bouncing around on the settee and floor until the leash was attached to his collar.
Normally on a hot day like that one, Dingbat would be complaining in his head about the sun beating down upon his furry body, but that little nuisance was forgotten in his attempts to cheer up Dot, just by walking along with her as she admired the scenery. Her mood seemed to be picking up and, despite the tiny nagging that there was still some sadness lingering in her, Dingbat felt he had done his job and done it well.
As far as Dingbat could tell, Dot had seemed to have gotten over that small incident, as the following week didn't seem to depart from the usual schedule. Wake up, get a morning fuss, have breakfast, lounge around the house for a while, have a walk, eat dinner, more fusses and ball throwing, then sleep, with Dot at the foot of her bed. There was a tiny change in schedule on Thursday, as Dot brought some of her friends over. Although Dingbat could never really remember any of her friends' appearances or names, he still enjoyed having them over, as they were always willing to pet him and shower him with praises. 'Good boy!' 'Good Dingbat!' Plus, friends coming over almost always meant telly. Telly, as his humans had called it, had fascinated him from the moment he had first seen it, even if he didn't really understand it most of the time. It was like a game to him: look at what was being presented, and then make sense of it.
That night's movie? Zoltan, Hound of Dracula.
"Look, Dingbat. It's about a doggy like you!"
Watching this telly, Dingbat had rarely seen his own kind outside supporting roles and moving drawings, so he felt that this was something he should pay attention to. The film involved 'vampires' like so many of the films Dot liked to watch. Since they were the subject of so many films he had laid witness to, Dingbat considered himself an expert on vampires. They wear capes, come out at night, have fangs, turn into bats, say 'blah' and other things like that and drink blood.
Drink blood. Watching the film, Dingbat fully understood what was going on when the vampire entered the woman's room, about to attack, only to be disturbed by the barking of a hound outside. Upon witnessing this fictional event, Dingbat could only wonder; what'd he do in the same situation? What if Dot were menaced by a vampire? Certainly he could try and rescue her, but what if the vampire attacked him too, as in the film? He loved Dot – she was the closest thing he had to a mother ever since he lost his real one – but would he be willing to risk his life for her? The girls laughing at the movie with cries of 'This is so bad!' only somehow made him all the more uncomfortable.
Then one of the girls threw a rubber ball and the dilemma was all forgotten.