"Is this anyone's dog? Is this anyone's dog!"
The Major watched as his master yelled over the crowd of departing patrons, the dog, 'Peg', as he had come to suspect, was held firmly by the scruff and being waved in the air. For all of his efforts, no one came forth to claim the dog and so as the tent gradually emptied and quieted down, he stepped down from the beat up box he had been standing on and gave her a long look.
"What am I going to do with you? I don't suppose that- ah!"
Clint looked down sharply to the floor, where a short dog had it's teeth wrapped around the leg of his pants. He should have been mad and was about to yell out in anger, but stopped himself when he took note of the dog's appearance.
"You two related? Oh, oh of course," he quickly put her down and watched as she scurried off to stand behind him. "My apologies, I was merely concerned that she might have been lost."
"Clint? Clint?"
"Over here Marie!"
"Oh there you are," she quickly walked over. "Can't find anyone who's been complaining about a lost dog. Any luck over here?"
"Advertised her to the whole world and not a single taker."
"How strange, it's as if she just fell out of the sky and happened to land right there up on that stage."
"All turned out for the better though."
Marie crouched, trying to get a better look at Peg specifically. She reached a hand out, but pulled back when the slightly larger dog in front of her growled.
Clint only laughed, "Careful there, I'm sure papa won't be having anyone hurt his girl."
The other two from earlier on the stage had been hovering around lightly, but made no moves until they saw Marie crouch down. When they were close enough, she instead reached out to them. They sniffed her hand uncertainly, but ultimately allowed her to touch and stroke the tops of their heads.
"These two are much friendlier I reckon," she said before standing up. "What are we going to do with them Clint?"
"Well," he placed his hands on his hips. "She put on the performance of a lifetime. I ain't seen a crowd get that frenzied up about something in the long year and a half that we've been doing this. It was quite catchy too. I don't see the harm in keeping them around. Maybe, just maybe, they'll become regulars up on that stage, it's not like we need to teach them much. Seems like they're well attuned to what they do. Really, what's a few more mouths to feed anyways?"
"So it's settled then? We're keeping them?"
He laughed again, "I do believe so. Whatever she is and her father, plus two Labradors. Quite the set of new arrivals!"
His eyes again fell to the ground when he felt something lightly collide into the side of his leg. It was a rather scruffy looking dog, but the way that he so easily joined the others was enough to convince Clint of his legitimacy.
"Make that several more mouths to feed."
Goodbye Circus and hello show dog
Hannah Ellis-Petersen
This article is mainly to inform the general public of the impending shutdown of 'Big Top Circus Acts'.
Walt's papers can officially report that Big Top Circus Acts will soon file for bankruptcy as ticket sales fall and critical reception becomes more mixed.
One of America's most celebrated circuses, the Big Top Circus Act, is packing away it's tent for the final time, thirty two years after it was founded in rural Wisconsin by five brothers: Aiden, Caiden, Barrett, Jarett and Blake.
The current owners of the company blamed declining ticket sales, which has in recent times, fallen further after a freak accident in where three people were harmed, but none dead.
"This, coupled with high operating costs, made the circus an unsustainable business for the company," said Joe Manders, current (or former) ringmaster. "The circus and its people have continually been a source of inspiration and joy to my family and me."
An estimated 10 million people visited the Big Top Circus Act's shows each year during their nationwide tours. However, the closure of this circus is considered to be further proof that entertainment tastes have moved away from traditional circuses with more 'niche' and specialized acts taking their place.
One of the remaining British circuses that still used animals in its performances, The Great British Circus, finally closed in 2012. (change this)
And in the face of that ending era, a new door has been opened.
A door behind which a very special dog lay.
While she remains nameless and not too much is known about her, Clint Whitlock has been sure to push her to the forefront of every single show that he puts on. The mysterious dog has fascinated children, adults and dog enthusiasts alike, who have found the unique way in which she appears to sing and dance on stage to be both rather amusing and somewhat deeply impressive.
When asked how he taught a dog such advanced skills, Clint was quoted as saying, "It took a little way, but we got her moving around eventually. In all honesty, I think that some dogs just have the whole persona in them."
Clint's shows have not only increased in scale, but they've also seen higher ticket sales across each new booking. Just last week, the mayor of WhiteFish, Montana asked the highly successful businessman if he would consider touring through the town, citing a possible economic boost as a result.
And unlike the Big Top Circus Act, popularity hasn't brought down the quality of Mr. Whitlock's shows at all. In fact, reviewers and even myself can attest that on top of being entertaining, every show ends with a healthy dose of cheers and applause mainly to the mystery star dog who can dance, sing and may even do a few tricks if you sit in the front row and ask nicely.
Bravo Clint Whitlock, bravo.
The Major squinted at the words as he scanned over the page.
He couldn't read. He was a dog after all, but that didn't mean that he couldn't try.
His master would not wake for several minutes more in any case and the newspaper always arrived early, so he saw no harm in letting the time pass by with a rather mundane activity. One which involved him trying to imagine what the funny shapes and patterns represented.
As soon as he heard his master creakily roll out of bed and shove on a pair of slippers however, he gathered the sheets of paper in his mouth to the best of his ability and stood dutifully by the kitchen door.
"Oh, morning bud," Clint said with a yawn. "You got something for me?"
The Major leaned over to hand him the bunch of papers.
"Why do you always do this?" he asked taking a seat at the table. "Makes it a lot harder to read when it's not all in one and covered in dog slobber. Anyways let's see what we have here," he produced a pair of reading glasses from his pocket. "Something something fireworks accident, something something new cars being invented, something something horses for sale, something something something...ah! There we are! On the featured page. Listen to this: 'Huge interest in dancing and singing dog as ticket sales for new act in town quickly sell out'. I don't mean to make much out of nothing, but this sure seems like something."
"What's all this ruckus for?" Marie walked in with a yawn stretching her mouth. "It's not well past the morning yet."
"Just reading the paper to this old man over here."
"Well," she said, before reaching for a glass of water. "I'm sure he appreciates that very much now."
"Didn't I tell ya' this was all going to work out Marie?"
"That you did and I never doubted you for a second."
"Except the time you punched me in the gut."
"Except that time," she conceded.
"Listen to this," Clint began anew. "Fortune builds for both Mr. and Mrs. Whitlock, the founders of the latest in a series of attempts by local entrepreneurs to defy larger businesses with ideas of their own."
Marie scoffed, "Oh hell, they make it sound like we give a horse's behind about all that. In reality we're all just trying to get by."
"Let 'em say what they wanna say, so long as it gets us more attention. A large part the sudden interest in their business has been credited to a mysterious dog, who spectators claim has been trained to 'sing' and dance."
"She really was the magic key, wasn't she?"
"Her and the others," he agreed and then looked by the entrance to the kitchen. "Speaking of which, looks like someone just woke up."
Marie glanced over to where his eyes had wondered and stifled a laugh at the way the scruffy dog immediately leapt forward at Clint's beckoning. He was certainly the most friendly of the bunch she had reckoned and it was why she enjoyed his company most. But she did appreciate them all in some way. Even the moody one.
"It's only been a few weeks and they feel like family. What do you suppose we'll do Clint, if any of their owners ever show up knocking on our front door?"
"Well we certainly won't be keeping them," Clint remarked while scratching behind Randall's ear. "It'd be the right thing to do. Hand them all right back over, no matter what. Even Peg, for as valuable as she is to us."
"Even Peg," she agreed.
As they finished their coffee, fried an egg each and a few rashers of bacon, The Major was left for their words as his thoughts, so long that the kitchen had cleared out long before he could think of anything else.
It was in his time of contemplation that he knew he couldn't allow them to leave. Not when Peg was as huge of an asset to their business as she was.
"Major!"
"Mhm," he turned around, only slightly surprised. "Yes Micah?"
"Enough is enough! For the past month I have put up with, in the most tasteful way possible, the distasteful antics of that girl when she gets up on any stage. But seeing as though nothing is being done about her, I've finally decided that in good conscience I can no longer go up on a stage that has been disgraced and sinned upon..."
Micah was finally close enough for The Major to get a good look at him and so he made sure to do exactly that. "The fool," he thought condescendingly. "Is he that brainwashed to believe that he is the center of it all? Does he truly believe that he is the one contributing to all this success? Or is he just trying to convince me of all the nonsense that spews from his mouth? Perhaps both? No matter, I won't let him be the one to end the happiness, he can't, not when we're so close. I'll have to double down, put Peg further in the eye of the public and push Micah further out of the limelight. Maybe I'll even get rid of him...no. Any act is a good act. Don't need the competition gaining ground in anyway. I'll give him a choice: accept what little he's still worth, or leave."
"...and if you don't do anything about the atrocities being committed against our reputation, I'm afraid that I'll have to speak with her and I can guarantee that I'll be a lot less gentle!"
"Micah," his face fixed into a serious grimace as he spoke. "You have it on my word that I will do exactly what needs to be done- and more, in order to solve this problem and fix your grievances."
Early this mornin', when you knocked upon my door
Early this mornin', ooh, when you knocked upon my door
And I said, "Hello, Satan, I believe it's time to go"
Me and the devil, was walkin' side by side
Me and the devil, ooh, was walkin' side by side
And I'm goin' to beat my woman, until I get satisfied
She say you don't see why, that you will dog me 'round
(Now, babe, you know you ain't doin' me right, don'cha)
She say you don't see why, ooh, that you will dog me 'round
It must-a be that old evil spirit, so deep down in the ground
You may bury my body, down by the highway side
(Baby, I don't care where you bury my body when I'm dead and gone)
You may bury my body, ooh, down by the highway side
So my old evil spirit, can catch a Greyhound bus and ride
Peg shuddered as soon as the last of the song died down on her lips.
She didn't like it.
She didn't know why she sang it.
Be it out of morbid fascination, or boredom, it always worked it's way out when she didn't have much of anything else to think of. It was one of many songs she'd heard on the long trek with Randall and her father. Where she'd even heard it, she couldn't remember. There had come a point in their journey where the signs and sights of every city and town that they crossed and entered had simply began to mix and mess, becoming less and less clear by the day. Eventually she'd given up trying to keep track, let alone try to ask her father, who always, without fail, responded with a noncommittal grunt.
They slept outside the homes of humans sometimes and that was where she had heard most of the songs which played in her head.
Well, I came down there with my hat caved in
Oh I'll go back home with my pocket full of tin oh doo-dah day
Goin' to run all night, goin' to run all day
I'll bet my money on the bobtail nag, somebody bet on the bay.
Well, the Camptown ladies sing this song doodah doodah
Ah the Camptown race track's five miles long oh doo-dah day
Goin' to run all night, goin' to run all day
I'll bet my money on the bobtail nag, somebody bet on the bay.
Occasionally though, they slept in what seemed to her to be less safe areas. Places where it felt as though anything could happen. It was in one of these places that she first heard what she had dubbed 'the devil's song'. And if the feeling it gave her was any indication, that was an extremely apt name.
Somewhere along the way, they had run into Cliff and Rick, two twins with simultaneously the most similarities and the most differences that she had ever seen. Cliff, as evidenced by the way that he had bravely and casually faced them when they came across his scraps by mistake, was the level-headed and much more reasonable of the two. Rick on the other hand was skittish and had more nervous ticks than anyone could keep track of. He was also somehow more of a talker and a ladies' man and so most of his nights were spent getting yelled at by angry girlfriends who he would reconcile with the next day. Despite those clashing differences though, they were very much both still twins, rarely going anywhere without the other and they never made a decision without first consulting one another with their eyes. It was something that Peg had rather amusingly picked up on when the two of them had first been asked to travel alongside her father and Randall.
So much had happened so quickly and she hated her anxiety for refusing to go away between performances.
"It's safe here. You have food and shelter." She always tried to tell herself and yet could never quite be convinced of that. There was always something looming, always something making her feel threatened and it never ceased to exist.
At first, she had chocked it up to being worries of something to do with her next show, but eventually the gnawing feeling that it was made her feel as though it were something bigger, something far out of her hands. It only ever retreated to a smaller corner of her mind when she was singing on a stage and in front of an audience.
Letting out a breath of air, Peg shuddered again and then turned from the tree she had been aimlessly staring at. It was getting late, everyone would soon begin to wonder where she had gone.
When she arrived back at the house, she found it startlingly quiet for a place that housed ten dogs, not including herself. The back of her throat felt thirsty and so she immediately made for where she knew the water bowls were, right beside the door in the kitchen.
Abode meant house, dwelling.
Humble meant low in rank, importance, status, quality.
Humble abode referred to a home that was simple, lowly, of humble origin. There may not have even been a real home, as when a vagabond said: "Welcome to my humble abode". He may just well have been a homeless person with no fixed abode.
Or as someone who lived in an abode of mud and straw said: "Welcome to my humble abode."
The phrase was used to refer to one's home with a humorous show of modesty.
That was exactly the phrase to describe the house of Clint and Marie as she had come to know them. Nothing large enough to be called a mansion, but certainly not the worst thing that she had ever come across.
"You."
She stopped lapping her water and turned around to where she saw Micah stood, an ugly sneer on his face.
"Uhm...hi?"
"You think you can just come in here and take the spotlight from the rest of us with all those rude gyrations of yours? You think none of us care for the way that you're hurting our business and our reputation?"
Not sure how to respond to his words, but also wary of his tone, she only ducked her head.
"If I had my way, you and you're little gang of troublemakers would be out on your butts faster than a possum eatin' a sweet tarter."
She felt trapped.
He was by no means an intimidating dog and yet she still found herself intimidated by him. On any other occasion, she would have instantly looked for her father to help, but no matter how many times she looked left and right, it did not appear as though he would save her on this particular occasion.
"What's the matter with you? Cat got your tongue?"
"I-I'm sorry, I-"
"Oh no, don't think I'll fall for this facade that you put up! Acting all sad and shy and lonely, but as soon as you're up on that stage you're someone completely different. Have you no shame?"
Peg felt tears welling up in her eyes then, but she did her best at containing them. Crying was for babies, something that she was not anymore. The day that her mother left, she remembered crying so much that she could have sworn that she'd be unable to ever cry again. Though here she was now, getting ready to cry as usual.
"Pathetic, why I should-"
"Ah!"
A new voice entered the fray and she turned to see the one that everyone called 'The Major'. She wasn't particularly fond of him either and usually spent her time interacting with him to an absolute limit. She did however appreciate his presence for the time being.
"Micah...and Peg too! Pleasure seeing the two of you here! I had actually meant to speak with both of you, seperately of course, but seeing as you're both here, I suppose that I should just say what it is that I need to say. Micah," and he faced the dog with a wide grin, "you're time here has been much appreciated and for that I'd be willing to offer you a guarantee of at least two more months and your usual segment, although it won't be starting the show anymore."
"So that's how it is? You'd really drop me for this...floozie?"
"Now Micah no need to resort to insults, we are above such behavior after all."
"Maybe you are, but not me. Major, you can keep your deal. I quit and I'm taking Ollie with me."
"Well you know what they say," The Major sighed. "When one leaves another sprouts up."
He turned fully to where a tearful Peg sat and let himself think for a moment once more what an opportunity he had come across.
The Major knew that he couldn't be the only one surprised by how conservative Peg seemed when she wasn't singing and dancing. As much as he was willing to allow himself to adapt to different situations, it was also largely a source of frustration for him. He was used to working with dogs and other creatures that were firm and upfront. This presented the advantage of being able to easily talk out a deal and even easier still to let them believe that they had the upper-hand in whatever negotiations were taking place. It was all a process that he had grown accustomed to:
1. Approach warmly (flatter if necessary).
2. Undermine the state of the business.
3. Find a middle ground.
4. Push the ball in their direction.
5. Watch it roll back.
6. Profit.
His first interaction with Peg had been...something of a failure. His usual approach had been offset by the fact that she tended to hide behind her father quiet a bit. Family wasn't poisonous to him, he liked the thought of family, but it was easy for relatives to get in the way when it came to matters of business. In the particular case with which he was faced, that meant that her father, Charlie, had taken it upon himself to do most of her talking for her. Finding her alone wasn't an option either, as she spent most of her free time with her father and always seemed to have at least one of her personal entourage around, be it the two twins, who he had long ago given up on gaining their trust, or Randall who he'd at least had a little more success with, albeit not enough.
The five of them also seemed entirely uninterested in anything that had to do with the business, insisting that they were only working to survive. This made it difficult to get Peg to do anything that didn't involve rehearsing or performing. He supposed that at the rate and direction of things, it would be difficult to get her to so much as smile if she weren't up on a stage. This presented many different problems, one of which being that she was getting more famous, yet her nerves didn't seem to be getting any smaller.
He was old-fashioned. He liked to ensure that everything was always held in place and at the stage they were in, Peg was proving far too valuable to lose, but not desperate or committed in anyway to staying.
Being The Major, or the 'top dog' as his master liked to call him, meant that he could offer all sorts of things to those who asked and so offer he did, even though they never asked. He adorned Charlie with extra dog food and even some of the leftover meat usually reserved for himself, but pointing it out usually only ever got him a noncommittal grunt. Peg was offered a bright pink collar, ingrained with diamonds along it's side. She had been reluctant, but had accepted it, "out of good manners" and in a quite voice. Cliff and Rick had each been given matching jerseys to keep them warm and Randall was given a toy that squeaked loudly, something he seemed to enjoy despite his age.
None of this ever swayed them, he felt. None of it made it seem as though they were convinced of his need for them to stay.
No expectation could be held for the ball to return to him, because it hardly ever left his own paws in the first place.
Yet here she was, sitting right before him. As quite as usual, but also alone. No Charlie, no Cliff, no Rick and no Randall. Just Peg.
"You know I should probably apologize for Micah's behavior, but you know he's an old dog, hasn't aged a day past the gray furs on himself."
Peg stumbled slightly when the boat he had sneaked her on creaked with the water and the wind, "I-it's quite alright Major, I...he...maybe I am the problem."
"No, no my dear," he quickly shook his head. "It is quite the contrary. You, yes you are single-handedly keeping the heart of this little business of ours' beating."
"Me?"
"Yes you," he affirmed for a third time.
"Well I don't know, I wouldn't really say-"
"Nonsense. We'd be no where without you my dear girl, you are the very cog which keeps the gear running and so it has dawned on me that I must leave you with an offer."
"An offer?"
He nodded his head readily, "One with which you will be granted all that you wish for."
"Oh," and she glanced away from him, turning so that she could see herself in the water. "That's so kind of you Major, but I don't know if my Daddy has told you, we're erm, just the work for hire types. It's already been a few weeks too long of us pillaging your food and your home. We'll be out of your nests as soon as possible."
"Tired of me so soon?"
"N-no," she sputtered quickly. "I like you and Rosie and the trío romántico an-"
"Jokes my girl, jokes."
He sighed again as their conversation came to an unnatural standstill. She seemed to be as focused as ever on her reflection. As determined as he was, he knew that it might be necessary to concede defeat and try again another time.
"Major?"
Peg surprised him by being the first to break the silence.
"Yes?"
"Do you ever stop and just take a look at the stars?"
"Can't say I do," he said, while making a move to sit next to her, lightly rocking the docked boat in the process. "What's up there but a few bright lights?"
"Patterns," she responded simply and then shrugged. "I like looking at them."
"Ah."
Another beat of silence passed.
"My Mama never liked to look at stars, she preferred the clouds in the day."
"She liked to see for little frogs and angels up there?"
Peg chuckled, "Yup. Reindeer too."
"Have you ever wanted to touch a cloud?"
"I have."
"What if I promised you a cloud, one of any shape you wish? All you have to do is say yes."
He grew happy then, when he saw that same slow, considerate deliberation that occurred right before a decision was to be made. It wasn't his usual plan of attack and he wasn't sure it would even end up working, but merely by virtue of-
"Yes."