The Pug of the Opera
The weeks that followed convinced Erik that it was not he who trained Beau but Beau who trained him. Beau was a very cooperative and clever dog as long as Erik offered enough cheese as 'payment' for obedience. As soon as he ran out of cheese, the dog turned round and ignored his commands and began playing.
Beau learned to obey "here" - he looked at Erik and came only when Erik showed him a tiny piece of cheese. If Erik had nothing for him, he ignored the command. The same with the commands "sit" or "stay". Only praise and cuddling by his owner was not enough to motivate Beau to play along. With enough cheese he soon even learned "fetch" and "bow" and "shake hands".
The puppy grew at tremendous speed. Sometimes Erik got the impression that the dog had grown larger overnight. And the puppy kept Erik busy - wiping up the mess that sometimes just happened when the pug was too busy playing and then didn't manage to reach the litter box in time, rescuing his various possessions like shoes, carpets, the violin - yes, the pug chewed on Erik's violin bow, this was the only time Erik really yelled at the small bundle of fur and nearly hit Beau, but when Beau curled into a tiny ball, crying out in fear and shame and looked at Erik with those sad, large puppy-eyes Erik could not do it. But the dog learned that if he wanted to chew at something he could easily pick Erik's slippers or shred yet another shirt to pieces, but never the music instruments.
The couch table looked like very large wood worms had chewed up its edges... but Erik was too late, when he found Beau he was sleeping peacefully in a bowl on the couch table. Erik had to laugh so much at the sight, he absolutely forgot to punish Beau for chewing at the table.
Erik's once tidy flat was no longer tidy. The furniture looked like gigantic wood-worms had held a feast there. The carpets and rugs had spots from where the puppy had left a mess - be it a puddle, dog-doo or vomit. The little one had no idea when to stop eating so unfortunately he was sick quite often until Erik learned that it was his job to take care the dog would not eat too much. Like all pugs Beau loved to wipe his non-existent nose at the furniture, leaving snot and dark spots everywhere. He loved to sleep in the laundry basket, especially in the freshly ironed shirts. He loved to hide some stinking old bones where Erik would only find them by smell - and often wondered how Beau had managed to squeeze into this place! He found stinking chewing bones in his cupboard between his shirts, in his shoes, even in his bed and in one of the larger pipes of his organ.
But all was forgotten when the tiny soft furball curled up on his lap and began to snore. Whatever the dog had done that day - as soon as he was asleep on Erik's lap, Erik could not help feeling contend and loved. He loved this little thing so much, he even accepted that a tiny pug puppy could take up two third of his coffin, which was as large as a normal bed, and he had to lay in some awkward position so he would not disturb Beau's peaceful slumber. He accepted that the puppy knew perfectly well when he had to give him food and the puppy always ate before him. When he ate his own food, Beau stared at him accusingly, waiting for Erik to take the last bite and leaving a tiny portion for Beau so the dog would at least know he would get something from his master and not envy him.
Eventually Erik found the little dog was tireless. He got up at about 5 a.m. and was constantly running around, eating, chewing something, hiding something, trying to dig a hole - which was annoying when it happened in the cupboard - or playing or asking Erik to play with him. Only in the evening around 9 p.m. he got tired and went to sleep, Erik usually did the same, just collapsing into his bed. The little puppy wore him out completely. He had to do something about this, he had a growing male dog who needed something to do.
When the pug grew he sometimes suffered flatulences - which resulted in a terrible stench and sometimes a few brown drops from his anal gland on Erik's clothing or furniture. The pug usually farted when he was lying on Erik's pillow - then looked at his master accusingly with raised eyebrows which looked irresistible cute in his wrinkled face and moved to the other side of the coffin-bed because there the smell was better. Erik tried to scold him, but in the end he could only laugh, at least until the puppy decided to playfully nibble at his toes which was rather painful given the needle-sharp baby-teeth.
Finally Erik decided to take the dog by the collar and the leash and go for long walks. Unfortunately he had to do that in daytime for the dog wanted to sleep at night and Erik did not have the heart to disturb the peaceful slumber of the beloved little baby. In some ways he regarded the pug as his baby boy now, wondering how this furball had done this to him.
Erik hated going out at daytime. The harsh light of the sun not only hurt his eyes despite the wide-brimmed hat he wore, it also revealed his ugliness even more. Erik was after decades of working on his disguise a master make-up artist. He wore a false nose and a false beard and tried to conceal his discolored skin with a certain kind of powder that left him looking pale and ill but not as ugly as he really was. But even in this disguise people kept staring rudely or bolting at his sight, even nearly jumping before a carriage in their shock to see someone so ugly so close to them. Especially adolescent boys from lower social classes liked to call him names openly while the people of higher classes were too well educated to do so - they whispered among themselves that he looked like he came directly back from the grave.
He knew that these mockery was quite correct - he really looked like a corpse and yes, he was disgusted at his own sight - and that made it only more painful. Not as painful as young men making a sports of it to attack him, throwing stones and dirt, some trying to hit him or push him from the sidewalk, hissing something like "out of my way, freak". Erik endured this, because he knew that if he tried to fight back the bored bystanders could become a violent mob immediately and they would turn against him, only seeing an ugly freak attacking nice young boys, no matter what they did to him before.
He was worried what they would say if they saw him with a dog puppy - he was much more worried about Beau's safety than his own. Soon it turned out that Beau had a somewhat nice effect: people looked more at the dog than at him. Some called the dog "ugly", "looking like a fat maggot" but others found him irresistible cute - and Beau reacted very well to their attention. Since Erik used the word "cute" so much around Beau, Beau always waggled his cinnamon roll formed tail and made happy noises that sounded like staccato snoring when someone said "cute" - even if the word cure did definitely not refer to Beau.
Especially girls and ladies found the pug nice, some even dared to approach Erik and ask if they were allowed to pet his wonderful dog. This was a completely new experience for Erik. There were people - mostly women - who approached him because they wanted to pet his pug - and pug graciously accepted their admiration.