A new addition is introduced into Gregory’s household, a battle of wills ensues.

by Helen Ward

On one of his monthly visits to see to Gregory’s back, Ivan found that Gregory had bought himself a puppy.

“Handsome little chap,” Ivan remarked as he was setting up his treatment table.
“Pedigree,” Gregory nodded.
“You don’t strike me as the type to want the mess in the house,” Ivan went on, “it’ll be a chewer I dare say.”
The puppy leapt about his feet as he spoke. It was a sleek, black, wiry little thing. Its eyes were wide and new.
“Get down!” Gregory caught it by the tail and it yelped, falling into an immediate shiver.
“He’s just a baby Gregory,” Ivan shook his head, “not so harsh!”
“He has to learn.”
“Have you named him yet?”
“Well… I think I’ll just call him Black.”
Ivan gave a half laugh, “Black. Of course. Why not,” he shook his head again, “okay then, all set up. How’s the lower back been this month?”
“Same,” said Gregory, stripping to his under shorts to reveal a wiry, sinewy frame.

A month later, when Ivan knocked again on Gregory’s door, there was the sound of childish barking. Then a yell. Then a yelp. Ivan leaned in towards the door to listen.
The sound of “No! No! No!” came from within, punctuated by a yelp at each exclamation. Gregory’s footsteps strode to the door. Ivan took a step back.
“Come in, come in,” Gregory beckoned him, beads of sweat standing out on his forehead.
“Thank you,” said Ivan flatly, “how have you been? How’s the dog shaping up, eh?”
“He’s learning,” said Gregory.
Beneath the table in the dining room the dog cowered, shivering from head to tail, not daring to make another sound.
“He looks terrified,” Ivan remarked, frowning, “what are you doing to him Gregory?”
“Dogs are like children,” came the reply, “they need boundaries!”
“You’ll make him angry, scaring him like that.”
“Then he’ll be a fine guard dog! Now set up your table, my back’s killing me today.”
“Okay,” said Ivan, shaking his head.
The dog ventured out from beneath the table; Gregory persuaded it back with a flick of his boot.
Ivan paused for a moment, then readied himself for his work in silence.

Another month passed. No sound of barking greeted Ivan at his arrival this time, and he wondered whether perhaps Gregory had given the dog away.
“Would be just as well,” Ivan said to himself, placing his folded table down and knocking for a second time.
“Hang on, hang on!” Came a voice from within, and Gregory’s footsteps – heavy for his slight frame – bounded towards the door. It swung open.
“You’re practically running!” Ivan exclaimed, “is your back much better then, this month?”
“Sure, not too bad. Come on in,”
“Where is Black?” Ivan asked, “I didn’t hear him bark this time.”
“He’s outside. I was just tying him up when you knocked the first time. And no, thank heaven he doesn’t bark any more!”
“I thought you wanted him to be a guard dog,” Ivan remembered.
“I can’t bear his noise.”
Ivan went to the window and looked out. The dog was tied up on a short, ragged rope with no collar attached to it. Its ribs stuck out on both sides and its tail was scrawny and balding in places. The once smooth hair across its back had grown matted with grime. Its eyes bulged wildly. Ivan was shocked at the transformation from the plump, sleek little thing he had seen for the first time just two months previously.
“Why have you tied him up?” He demanded, putting a hand to his forehead.
“Ah, he gets under my feet. And he’s starting to bite, the little monster!”
“Perhaps,” Ivan said calmly, “because you see him every day, you don’t notice the changes in him; but he really doesn’t look well. What do you feed him on?”
“Leftovers. He does ok!” Gregory joined Ivan at the window, “he looks ok to me. Lean. He looks fit.”
At the sight of Gregory, the small dog leapt against its lead, trying to hurl itself at the window.
“You see! Fiery little monster! He may not bark but he’s a guard dog none the less!” Gregory took a bun from the table, opened the window and hurled it at the dog, striking it neatly between the eyes. The creature yelped and cowered.
“What are you doing to him?” Ivan raised both hands to his head, “if you don’t want him, let someone who does have him! He’s skinny, look at his ribs!”
“He’s fit I tell you! Calm down Ivan, what’s the matter with you? I want to train him, that’s all, and he demands firm treatment!”
“Can’t you see the condition he’s in? Are you blind?”
“What is this?” Gregory raised his palms in a gesture of innocence, “he is my dog, I paid for him!”
“So now you want him to pay, is that it?”
The treatment on Gregory’s back commenced in silence, Ivan’s fingers digging more vehemently than usual into the tightly visible muscles at their tips. He prodded and twisted and pushed with increasing weight.
“Gnnnnnnn!” Gregory cried out in pain.
“Sorry,” Ivan said.
Ivan left the house and walked sullenly down the street. Then he turned and made his way to the wooden fence around Gregory’s back yard, where he found a knot hole in one of the planks. He peered through, trying to see the dog. There it was, small still, its eyes and nose dripping onto the concrete on which it lay.

Ivan made a fist.

Then the back door opened and Gregory came out, giving a long, shuddering stretch after his violent back treatment. He stuck out his foot towards the dog and it winced away as though kicked.
“Crazy dog,” Gregory said quietly, then leapt in a sudden “HA!” towards it, at which it sprang into a backwards somersault, almost choking itself on the short rope. The turn had twisted it up, a front paw caught between rope and muzzle, a back leg pinned to its side so that it couldn’t get up.

Ivan made another, new fist.

“Crazy dog!” Gregory said again, shaking his head as the animal writhed.
Gregory watched it for a full minute.
“Stupid,” he said, bending down finally to untie the rope from its post. He bent at the waist, entirely in half, and even Ivan frowned slightly to see him do it. Gregory released the rope. Then stopped.
“Er…” he moaned slightly, still bent double. “Aaargh!” He said, louder this time.
The dog circled itself free and lay panting beside him.
“Aaargh!” said Gregory again, swinging one arm around to his lower back, “bugger! Bugger!”
Ivan looked down at the folded table, lying next to him on the pavement.
“Bugger! Bugger!” Gregory said again.
The dog got to its feet.
“Don’t you come near me!” Gregory shouted at it, “Get away! Away!” He swung a leg out rather unwisely and caught it on the ribs.
“Aaaaaaaargh!” He cried out at the stabbing in his back.
The dog growled, grizzled, grimaced.

Ivan held his breath and, finally, unclenched his fists. He exhaled and took his eye from the knot hole, stooping down to retrieve the table. As he walked away across the pavement there came a snapping, half barking, ripping, screaming, growling, snarling and crashing noise from behind him. Just as though some wild creature were hurling itself against the fence of Gregory’s back yard.