A/N: Any dog behaviour bestowed on Trigger, is taken from Kristine's guide dog Jules.
Part Sixty-Seven
Trigger felt a little happier with himself on the last Sunday morning in February, as he opened a sleepy eye. He was curled up in his large basket padded by an old duvet, situated in his favourite spot in the downstairs living room. He normally felt cheered up by the thoughts of guarding the house after the humans had gone to bed but, of late, even this didn't work. He carried a secret sadness inside of him from when his favourite mistress had disappeared suddenly after those two members of the enemy human pack invaded his territory. He could sense their evil nature and made no bones of concealing his anger. Nobody could explain to him why she had suddenly gone. It was part of the sad side of a dog's life and helped to give it such a name. To make it worse, his other mistress nearly almost equal favourite wouldn't play with him as much as she used to. Oh yes, she never lost affection for him, but there were times when she didn't seem to notice him, not even when he gave her the sad eye, which never used to fail him. Life didn't feel the same and it had been getting him down. True, there was the occasional highpoint when some friendly members of the human pack came round and the one with short straight hair made such a fuss of him as if she had known him all his life. He wished she would come back and that made him sad.
He rolled around on his back, flailing his paws in the air to squash that itch on his back and because he felt like it. At moments like these, he was lord of the manor no matter how much humans pretended otherwise. This morning, some sixth sense told him that life would get better but he hoped that his breakfast would be served on time.
That day at Larkhall had given Yvonne the kick up the backside that she needed. Bright and early, she bustled round, tidying clothes away, which she had left strewn about and cleared out old makeup. She enjoyed that sense of well being that came from feeling more centred in the world about her. Outside her window, the bright sun shining low over the horizon cast long shadows on the ground. What she needed was a good long walk and who best as resident silent walking companion than Trigger?
He could not believe his very sharp ears when he heard the faint sound of the leash and immediately trotted over, ears perked up before he heard the magic words "Walkies, Trigger." He was leader of the pack once again.
Yvonne made her way out of the drive and drove to the clear open spaces of the nearby park where she could clear her head. Was it the lousy weather, feeling depressed of late or the trial which had cut across everything and separated her from simple life renewing experiences which were so easily to hand?
Trigger pulled enthusiastically on his leash with immense feelings of satisfaction of a gourmet sat in front of his favourite meal. In his eyes, endless possibilities opened up of fascinating smells, and of company, both human and canine. Presently, Yvonne let trigger off the leash and he gamboled happily approximately next to her, occasionally chasing his tail with a friskiness which he should have outgrown but hadn't. The cold clear wind whipped through the bare trees and over the open spaces. Presently, Yvonne saw the distant shape of a tall stranger, wearing a long dark elegant overcoat and accompanied by a thin, lithe whippet, also off the leash Totally unselfconsciously, both humans let themselves be guided so that their paths converged. From opposite directions. As Yvonne got closer, there was something familiar about the man's wind blown grey hair and chiseled features. "Judge," Yvonne called out, her sharp eyes filling in the identity breaking into John's self absorbed drifting thoughts. At the same moment, Trigger bounded excitably up to the smaller dog, joyfully thinking that his luck was in very approximate parallel to John's very much more guarded reactions in a similar situation.
"Be nice, Trigger," Followed Yvonne's carrying voice after Trigger. John nervously gauged the relative sizes of the two animals, feeling as defensive as if a lion were rapidly closing in on a nervous gazelle.
To his surprise, Trigger slowed down at the end while Mimi turned her back, proudly and disdainfully on him and trotted casually up to a park bench and sniffed at its various angles and the surrounding clumps of grass. Both Yvonne and John studied with an anthropological eye, the rituals of canine interactions. It was curious to see the way that trigger did not think to push his way in front of Mimi as he would any much larger human being. Instead, he slavishly followed every nonchalant twist and turn that Mimi paced out. He followed her round as she sniffed at nearby trees.
Suddenly, he lunged forward right up close to Mimi close enough to sniff her, laying aside any sense of discretion. In a flash, Mimi twisted herself round and lashed out with one of her front paws, smacking him on his nose. Immediately, the much larger dog shot away in horror back to his human protector and sat with his back up against Yvonne's knees, as if begging his mistress to look after him. John burst out laughing at the utterly unexpected spectacle. Words came rushing back to his mind of the recent trial and the policeman's absurdly melodramatic description of the savage beast, which confronted him. The psychiatric report detailing trigger's personality was proved to the hilt except that he realised that it didn't exactly exist but that he had dreamed it. "You soft sod," Yvonne called out while she bent over and comforted the dog.
John shook his head repeatedly in disbelief and stared as Mimi remained proudly aloof and triumphant. It had the unfortunate effect of putting the ball squarely in Trigger's court in terms of wondering what to do. And the day had started so promisingly.
"You wouldn't think he'd been trained by Charlie Atkins, would you." "Kipling was right when he said that the female of the species is deadlier than the male. Personally, I thought it was a very vague generalisation," John's melodious voice answered with a trace of amusement. "And does that apply to me, judge?" Yvonne answered challengingly, a smirk on her face. When he was seen closer up in an ordinary park, this man's perfectly ordinary appearance was the most striking aspect of him. Correction, she added, all he had done was to not wear the august robes of his office and not to sit on his throne, the seat of his power. He wasn't one of those stuck up posh blokes who, if you stripped them of their uniforms, were no different from the average member of the 'all men are bastards' club. There's no difference except that they are weak. This bloke had natural class and, for the first time in a life which had been so long immersed in the criminal world, she found a man who was different.
Trigger made his tentative way over to Mimi who graciously waited for him to make a gradual approach. Now that Mimi knew that she was boss, she allowed him to get closer to her, but all the time maintaining the boundaries she was comfortable with, her being a very small dog compared to Trigger. He continued to follow her wherever she went, as lovestruck as a fifteen-year-old boy with his first crush. John turned to face Yvonne directly, sensing the physical proximity of the woman. He had seen her from afar throughout two trials when he had learned to admire her strength. She had unexpectedly touched him with the heartfelt emotion with which she had expressed her undying thanks after he had sent down her daughter. "Kipling was wrong in your case, Yvonne. You're strong but I know that you're not dangerous for me." This was the first really personal conversation where they were outside their normal lives and he had met her challenge far better than Trigger had faced Mimi's with all the finesse that came natural to him. In a companionable way, they strolled past the children's swings and slides where past incarnations of themselves took their turn to push their offspring on the swings and to watch them as they slid down the slides, laughing and giggling. It was all a long time ago, they thought and always there in their minds but they were living in the present and not the past.
"It seemed ages ago, judge, when I used to take my Lauren and Ritchie on the swings. It was the only time I felt free." "I used to do the same with my daughter Charlie. I hope you don't mind me asking but I've always wanted to ask you, why you call me judge?" John's shared memory shifted into a very tentatively asked question, a faint smile crinkling his face.
"It seems the right thing to call you." Yvonne's off the cuff reply was accompanied by a shrug of her shoulders before a thoughtful pause led her to add more slowly.
"It's like a word of respect, and as you might guess, with my background I've not exactly been used to hobnobbing with the law." "I would rather you called me John," came the answer with all his natural charm of personality.
What else could Yvonne say to answer this man but yes?
Trigger and Mimi trotted in the rough direction that the two humans took, still tentative in their relationship. They made their way along the narrow tarmac track which ran alongside the empty football pitch. The wind grew in strength and intensity and began to cut its way through even the stoutest winter clothing.
"I don't know about you, John, but I could murder a warm drink." "Regrettably, the average English park has only ice cream and tepid coffee at the very most." It was interesting the way that faint turns of phrase always accompanied John wherever he went, Yvonne thought, but this is a natural part of the man, not the judge. They sipped at thin polystyrene mugs of bitter coffee which was only drinkable as they were outside.
"Do you want to come back later for something stronger?" John asked. This man can turn on the charm, Yvonne thought but, for once, duty clashed with her increasing anticipation of pleasure and duty very regretfully won out. "I can't, not right now. I'd promised Denny Blood that I was going to visit her at Larkhall. She's got problems and I've got to talk to her. You know that she's as good as my daughter." "How about this evening?" He persisted, giving her the old, irresistable charm he hadn't used since his pulling days. "Well, John Deed, Mr. respectable high court judge, if you come and see me this evening, I might just cook you dinner." As his eyes met hers, he saw the spark of what could only be sexual attraction, with a hint of challenge in their depths. He hadn't been seducing women for the best part of forty years, not to instantly recognise the clear invitation Yvonne was giving him. "It would be a pleasure," He replied, his sotto voce response caressing her like the tips of his long masculine fingers. As she told him where she lived, Yvonne's spirits lifted as the conflict between duty and pleasure was so neatly resolved. It was time she treated herself.
In the meantime, Trigger kept an eye on what was happening and had John pegged as another dog owner. That familiarity with his species was the great divide in his world in the two species of humans. His day had been an up and down affair and it baffled him the distance he was obliged to keep. It was all very confusing and perhaps life at home did have its simplicities. Now if only he and Mimi could keep the humans in the park a little longer by pretending to forget the way home and go back by the wrong park exit, that would make them happy though not as happy as he thought he was going to be. As he thought again, it's a dog's life.
Part Sixty-Seven
Trigger felt a little happier with himself on the last Sunday morning in February, as he opened a sleepy eye. He was curled up in his large basket padded by an old duvet, situated in his favourite spot in the downstairs living room. He normally felt cheered up by the thoughts of guarding the house after the humans had gone to bed but, of late, even this didn't work. He carried a secret sadness inside of him from when his favourite mistress had disappeared suddenly after those two members of the enemy human pack invaded his territory. He could sense their evil nature and made no bones of concealing his anger. Nobody could explain to him why she had suddenly gone. It was part of the sad side of a dog's life and helped to give it such a name. To make it worse, his other mistress nearly almost equal favourite wouldn't play with him as much as she used to. Oh yes, she never lost affection for him, but there were times when she didn't seem to notice him, not even when he gave her the sad eye, which never used to fail him. Life didn't feel the same and it had been getting him down. True, there was the occasional highpoint when some friendly members of the human pack came round and the one with short straight hair made such a fuss of him as if she had known him all his life. He wished she would come back and that made him sad.
He rolled around on his back, flailing his paws in the air to squash that itch on his back and because he felt like it. At moments like these, he was lord of the manor no matter how much humans pretended otherwise. This morning, some sixth sense told him that life would get better but he hoped that his breakfast would be served on time.
That day at Larkhall had given Yvonne the kick up the backside that she needed. Bright and early, she bustled round, tidying clothes away, which she had left strewn about and cleared out old makeup. She enjoyed that sense of well being that came from feeling more centred in the world about her. Outside her window, the bright sun shining low over the horizon cast long shadows on the ground. What she needed was a good long walk and who best as resident silent walking companion than Trigger?
He could not believe his very sharp ears when he heard the faint sound of the leash and immediately trotted over, ears perked up before he heard the magic words "Walkies, Trigger." He was leader of the pack once again.
Yvonne made her way out of the drive and drove to the clear open spaces of the nearby park where she could clear her head. Was it the lousy weather, feeling depressed of late or the trial which had cut across everything and separated her from simple life renewing experiences which were so easily to hand?
Trigger pulled enthusiastically on his leash with immense feelings of satisfaction of a gourmet sat in front of his favourite meal. In his eyes, endless possibilities opened up of fascinating smells, and of company, both human and canine. Presently, Yvonne let trigger off the leash and he gamboled happily approximately next to her, occasionally chasing his tail with a friskiness which he should have outgrown but hadn't. The cold clear wind whipped through the bare trees and over the open spaces. Presently, Yvonne saw the distant shape of a tall stranger, wearing a long dark elegant overcoat and accompanied by a thin, lithe whippet, also off the leash Totally unselfconsciously, both humans let themselves be guided so that their paths converged. From opposite directions. As Yvonne got closer, there was something familiar about the man's wind blown grey hair and chiseled features. "Judge," Yvonne called out, her sharp eyes filling in the identity breaking into John's self absorbed drifting thoughts. At the same moment, Trigger bounded excitably up to the smaller dog, joyfully thinking that his luck was in very approximate parallel to John's very much more guarded reactions in a similar situation.
"Be nice, Trigger," Followed Yvonne's carrying voice after Trigger. John nervously gauged the relative sizes of the two animals, feeling as defensive as if a lion were rapidly closing in on a nervous gazelle.
To his surprise, Trigger slowed down at the end while Mimi turned her back, proudly and disdainfully on him and trotted casually up to a park bench and sniffed at its various angles and the surrounding clumps of grass. Both Yvonne and John studied with an anthropological eye, the rituals of canine interactions. It was curious to see the way that trigger did not think to push his way in front of Mimi as he would any much larger human being. Instead, he slavishly followed every nonchalant twist and turn that Mimi paced out. He followed her round as she sniffed at nearby trees.
Suddenly, he lunged forward right up close to Mimi close enough to sniff her, laying aside any sense of discretion. In a flash, Mimi twisted herself round and lashed out with one of her front paws, smacking him on his nose. Immediately, the much larger dog shot away in horror back to his human protector and sat with his back up against Yvonne's knees, as if begging his mistress to look after him. John burst out laughing at the utterly unexpected spectacle. Words came rushing back to his mind of the recent trial and the policeman's absurdly melodramatic description of the savage beast, which confronted him. The psychiatric report detailing trigger's personality was proved to the hilt except that he realised that it didn't exactly exist but that he had dreamed it. "You soft sod," Yvonne called out while she bent over and comforted the dog.
John shook his head repeatedly in disbelief and stared as Mimi remained proudly aloof and triumphant. It had the unfortunate effect of putting the ball squarely in Trigger's court in terms of wondering what to do. And the day had started so promisingly.
"You wouldn't think he'd been trained by Charlie Atkins, would you." "Kipling was right when he said that the female of the species is deadlier than the male. Personally, I thought it was a very vague generalisation," John's melodious voice answered with a trace of amusement. "And does that apply to me, judge?" Yvonne answered challengingly, a smirk on her face. When he was seen closer up in an ordinary park, this man's perfectly ordinary appearance was the most striking aspect of him. Correction, she added, all he had done was to not wear the august robes of his office and not to sit on his throne, the seat of his power. He wasn't one of those stuck up posh blokes who, if you stripped them of their uniforms, were no different from the average member of the 'all men are bastards' club. There's no difference except that they are weak. This bloke had natural class and, for the first time in a life which had been so long immersed in the criminal world, she found a man who was different.
Trigger made his tentative way over to Mimi who graciously waited for him to make a gradual approach. Now that Mimi knew that she was boss, she allowed him to get closer to her, but all the time maintaining the boundaries she was comfortable with, her being a very small dog compared to Trigger. He continued to follow her wherever she went, as lovestruck as a fifteen-year-old boy with his first crush. John turned to face Yvonne directly, sensing the physical proximity of the woman. He had seen her from afar throughout two trials when he had learned to admire her strength. She had unexpectedly touched him with the heartfelt emotion with which she had expressed her undying thanks after he had sent down her daughter. "Kipling was wrong in your case, Yvonne. You're strong but I know that you're not dangerous for me." This was the first really personal conversation where they were outside their normal lives and he had met her challenge far better than Trigger had faced Mimi's with all the finesse that came natural to him. In a companionable way, they strolled past the children's swings and slides where past incarnations of themselves took their turn to push their offspring on the swings and to watch them as they slid down the slides, laughing and giggling. It was all a long time ago, they thought and always there in their minds but they were living in the present and not the past.
"It seemed ages ago, judge, when I used to take my Lauren and Ritchie on the swings. It was the only time I felt free." "I used to do the same with my daughter Charlie. I hope you don't mind me asking but I've always wanted to ask you, why you call me judge?" John's shared memory shifted into a very tentatively asked question, a faint smile crinkling his face.
"It seems the right thing to call you." Yvonne's off the cuff reply was accompanied by a shrug of her shoulders before a thoughtful pause led her to add more slowly.
"It's like a word of respect, and as you might guess, with my background I've not exactly been used to hobnobbing with the law." "I would rather you called me John," came the answer with all his natural charm of personality.
What else could Yvonne say to answer this man but yes?
Trigger and Mimi trotted in the rough direction that the two humans took, still tentative in their relationship. They made their way along the narrow tarmac track which ran alongside the empty football pitch. The wind grew in strength and intensity and began to cut its way through even the stoutest winter clothing.
"I don't know about you, John, but I could murder a warm drink." "Regrettably, the average English park has only ice cream and tepid coffee at the very most." It was interesting the way that faint turns of phrase always accompanied John wherever he went, Yvonne thought, but this is a natural part of the man, not the judge. They sipped at thin polystyrene mugs of bitter coffee which was only drinkable as they were outside.
"Do you want to come back later for something stronger?" John asked. This man can turn on the charm, Yvonne thought but, for once, duty clashed with her increasing anticipation of pleasure and duty very regretfully won out. "I can't, not right now. I'd promised Denny Blood that I was going to visit her at Larkhall. She's got problems and I've got to talk to her. You know that she's as good as my daughter." "How about this evening?" He persisted, giving her the old, irresistable charm he hadn't used since his pulling days. "Well, John Deed, Mr. respectable high court judge, if you come and see me this evening, I might just cook you dinner." As his eyes met hers, he saw the spark of what could only be sexual attraction, with a hint of challenge in their depths. He hadn't been seducing women for the best part of forty years, not to instantly recognise the clear invitation Yvonne was giving him. "It would be a pleasure," He replied, his sotto voce response caressing her like the tips of his long masculine fingers. As she told him where she lived, Yvonne's spirits lifted as the conflict between duty and pleasure was so neatly resolved. It was time she treated herself.
In the meantime, Trigger kept an eye on what was happening and had John pegged as another dog owner. That familiarity with his species was the great divide in his world in the two species of humans. His day had been an up and down affair and it baffled him the distance he was obliged to keep. It was all very confusing and perhaps life at home did have its simplicities. Now if only he and Mimi could keep the humans in the park a little longer by pretending to forget the way home and go back by the wrong park exit, that would make them happy though not as happy as he thought he was going to be. As he thought again, it's a dog's life.