Chapter 2
Paw in the Mouth
I do not own Lady and the Tramp
The Next Morning, Tramp headed over to Jock's house. If there had been one thing he had gained from life on the streets, it was the ability to memorize the layout of an area, so naturally, he had no trouble finding the house. And there he was, the small Scottie leaping through the dog door. Then, he stopped and looked up, immediately noticing him.
Jock dropped his bone when he noticed the visitor. He had been suspicious of him ever since they first met. Of course, part of this was based in the preconceptions that mongrels were poorly bred, uncouth, lustful, and hedonistic, but his main concern, even from the beginning, was that he might hurt Lady, and after her day of freedom with the stray, his worst fears had been realized. That was why he still didn't trust him, for the damage he had done to her, the damage he could recognize even then, the damage that was evident to him now, the damage that would soon come to light within the next few weeks.
"Soah, whaht burr-ings ewe heear too-day?"
"It's about Lady, I have These feelings for her…"
"Goa ohn." Jock said suspiciously. Tramp then proceeded to explain this new kind of love, and how different it was from what he previously understood it to be. Additionally, He Also mentioned the conversation he overheard between Jim Dear and his wife. Jock took in these words with a sense of fascination. He had previously thought him incapable of "real" love. He obviously knew that this was how Lady felt towards him, but he'd always been a wee bit suspicious that he was simply using her. But then again, Jock had found that his first impressions of the Mutt had been incorrect numerous times since the incident. "Hahd he reealley refowrmed himseylf? thought Jock. "Pearhahps ma misgivins bout his kind wear incorrehct. Oar maybe a mixture a boath?"
Jock's attention returned to the conversation at hand, as Tramp asked "What can I do to Show that I love her?"
Jock Paused to think for a second. One thought entered his mind. "Noh!" he cursed under his breath, trying to suppress the thought.
"What?" asked Tramp, who was able to hear him despite the low voice.
"Behsaides" continued Jock, who hadn't noticed his mistake, "wood Jim Deear even allow it, he's a mongerol ahfter all, and they've alreahdy…."
As soon as he heard this, Tramp bolted away, whimpering in pain, his tail held firmly between his legs. Jock, who had noticed his mistake too late, cried out "Traaaahmp!" in a fruitless effort to stop him. From what he had seen over the past couple of weeks, Tramp seemed to have a noticeable difficulty understanding the nuances and subtexts in the language of the neighborhood dogs. So, in addition to hearing something he wasn't meant to hear, he had probably greatly misunderstood it as well. "Roam-ewe-lus's moather!" he swore, slapping himself on the head. "Ay've goht ta leyarn to wahtch whaht Ay say." he reflected. "Oar ailse Ay'll keep putin ma pahw in ma mauth. Lady is noht gunna be hahppy" predicted the now pessimistic terrier.