Rascal

The star on the Christmas tree was driving Alan mad. It wasn’t sitting straight.

It was only tilting about an inch but he needed to adjust it. He stood back to get a better look at the tree.

Perfect.

He exhaled deeply and made his way to the kitchen. Alan’s kitchen looked like it belonged in a hospital, it was that white and shiny and smelt strongly of bleach. Every bench and countertop was polished.

Every cupboard door and drawer had a label designated for specific kitchen utensils and appliances. Alan opened the drawer that read ‘toaster’ and took out the toaster. He went to the pantry and grabbed a loaf of bread from the shelf labeled ‘bread’. He toasted the bread for exactly two minutes.

After he finished breakfast he proceeded to meticulously clean the kitchen. He noticed a smudge on one of the counter surfaces near the fridge and fixed it up right away.

Alan continued with this ritualistic routine throughout the rest of his house. From his living room to his bedroom, no spot went unchecked.

He dusted off his collection of expensive superhero figurines that sat on shelf next to his tree. Figures he’d spent hours painting.

After finishing his chores Alan carefully sat down on the lounge letting out a sigh of relief, the house was spotless and everything was perfect. It was going to be another perfect Christmas.

Then the doorbell rang.

That was odd. No one ever visited Alan on Christmas, not even his family. They knew Alan did not like the chaotic mess of family gatherings.

Alan reluctantly made his way down the hall to the front door. He peeked through the keyhole. All he could see was the front veranda and the street beyond.

“Hello, anyone there?”

No reply. It must have been the neighbourhood kids doing the old ‘knock and run.’ He considered just going back to the lounge but decided he better check the verandah.

He unlatched the chain lock and slowly opened the door. No one was there. He glanced around his verandah and nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard a ‘yap’.

The sound came from a rectangular shape sitting on the ground, it was wrapped with a big red bow. Was that a travel crate for pets?

“Yap, yap, yap”

Oh no.

Alan bent down to look inside the crate, a small black nose poked through a gap.

“Yap, yaaapp…yap”

Alan took a good look at the creature inside, it was four legged, had white fur and had floppy ears. It looked like a puppy Labrador Retriever. Alan looked around. Who left it here and why?.

That’s when he noticed a yellow envelope taped to the side of the crate. He peeled it off. Then he opened it and pulled out a red card with a picture of a Christmas tree on it. He opened the card and read.

To Alan, Merry Christmas. And that’s all that was written, there was no indication of who sent it.

It was obvious that the puppy was sent to Alan deliberately as a gift but they clearly didn’t know him well, because Alan did not like animals and no animal was setting foot inside his pristine home.

It was time to call the pound.

“Our office is closed Christmas and Boxing Day, we will reopen on the 27th of December, we apologise for any inconvenience and we wish you a safe and happy holiday”.

Great. Alan hung up the call on his mobile. What was he going to do now, there were no other pounds in town and they would unlikely be open anyway. The puppy was still yapping away on his front veranda.

He could drop the puppy off at his sisters house on the other side of town, and on the 27th he would return to take the puppy to the pound.

Surely, Anita wouldn’t mind. It did mean unfortunately, having to take the dog in his pristine condition four-wheel drive. Perhaps Alan should call Anita and see if she can pick the dog up.

He scrolled through the contacts on his phone and hit the call button. It went straight to voicemail. He tried a few more times with no success.

Alan had no other family living in town and didn’t have any friends so taking it to someone else was not an option. It looked like Alan needed to take the mutt in his own car.

He went back outside past the yapping dog to the garage. He opened the garage door with the wireless key, and got in the car so he could reverse out.

Except when he tried to turn the key in his ignition, the car just made a clicking sound. He tried again. Click. Click. Click. Great.

How could his battery have gone flat, when he parked the car a week ago he checked three times to ensure the headlights were turned off. Not good.

He knew the auto shop wouldn’t be open today so he would have to wait to get a new battery.

Alan just sat there tapping the dashboard. Two days. That’s how long he would have to keep this pest.

He got out of the car and went to one of the drawers by the garage wall and grabbed a chain. Carrying the chain, he went back to the veranda and picked up the animal crate. It was heavier than expected and he could feel the uneven weight of the puppy moving inside, still yapping its head off.

He carried the crate to the backyard and sat it down next to a tree. Now for the hard part. He looked into the crate and to his relief saw that the puppy had a blue collar on, then he proceeded to carefully unlatch the crate door.

The puppy bolted out and jumped on Alan’s chest. It felt like Alan had been hit by a cannon ball and the force sent him falling on his back. The puppy was frantically licking Alan’s face.

“Arrrgh.. get off me you mutt!”.

Alan pushed the puppy of his face and struggled to his feet with drool dripping off his face.

He grabbed the puppy by the collar and clipped the chain to it and wrapped the other end around the tree. The puppy jumped up and down Alan’s legs leaving dirt marks on his blue jeans and barked relentlessly.

Alan backed away frantically brushing dirt and grass of his clothes.

“You menace, look what you’ve done!”

He stormed back to his house, slamming his back door.

That evening Alan finally laid in bed after cleaning his clothes. He had gone out to the puppy a second time to leave a bowl of water and leftover food and to his horror had caught the puppy digging up his well kept yard.

Alan laid in bed that night gritting his teeth and let out a yawn, he switched off his night lamp and laid back and closed his eyes.

“Yap.yap.yap.yap.yap”

Alan squeezed the pillow around his head.

“Yap.yaaapp.yap.yap”

He leaned over and opened the drawer next to his bed and pulled out a set of earbuds. They didn’t work.

The dog just kept barking relentlessly. Alan needed to do something otherwise the neighbours would end up complaining and of course he would not get any sleep.

So Alan did something that he never in his wildest dreams would ever think of doing.

He brought the dog inside.

He led the puppy inside by the chain leaving dirty paw prints on the linoleum floor. Alan cringed.

He led it into the bathroom and unlatched the chain. He left it another bowl of water and as went to leave the puppy squealed. Alan tuned around.

“You know you’re a goddam nightmare, a goddam rascal you know that.”

The puppy squealed again.

“Goodnight to you too, rascal.”

And Alan left slamming the bathroom door.

Alan woke to the sound of scratching. He immediately leaped out of bed and headed straight for the bathroom.

“You damn mutt when I get hold of you..”

He got to the bathroom door and it was shaking with sound of wood being scratched violently. He swung it open and the dog bolted out into the hall.

Alan felt his blood boiling at the sight on the inside of the door. The paint had been marked with a multitude of deep long scrapes.

“You little..!”

Alan stormed down the hall to the living room. The puppy was on the lounge yapping excitedly.

“Get off there!”

The puppy whimpered, lowering its head. Alan felt a pang of guilt but that guilt was quickly nullified at the sight of white fur all over his leather lounge.

“Get out of here!”

The puppy yelped and sprinted out the room.

Alan dropped on the lounge, deflated like a balloon. Whoever had gifted Alan this menace must have not liked Alan very much and wanted him to have a miserable Christmas. They wanted him to suffer.

This was not a gift, it was a curse.

Today was Boxing Day, so he only had to get through today and tonight. He could drop the mutt to the pound first thing tomorrow and spend the remainder of the day cleaning up the wreckage and everything would be back to normal.

He got off the lounge and went to the backyard to grab the crate. When he got back inside he found the puppy chewing on his shoes, he grabbed it by the collar and pulled him into the crate. He then left the crate in the bathroom but left the bathroom door open in hopes it would stop him barking.

The rest of the day continued without further trouble except the odd barking and yelping.

Alan spent a great deal of time getting the fur of the lounge. The holes in the backyard and the scratch marks on the bathroom door were projects that had to be postponed for the time being.

He also tried calling his sister Anita several times with no success, it just kept going to voicemail.

Alan fed and watered the dog which he decided to dub the name Rascal.

After finishing his dinner. Alan cleaned up and found himself yawning. He decided with heavy eyes that it was time to call it a night, and first thing tomorrow he would go straight to the pound. He showered and jumped into bed wrapping himself in blankets and set the alarm on his phone.

He tossed and turned in bed at the thought of the long walk to the pound tomorrow, unfortunately his car was still dead. After some more twisting and frustrated grunts, Alan finally dosed off.

Beep.beep.beep

Today was the day. Alan leaped out of bed and headed straight for the bathroom, nearly skipping down the hallway. However once he got to the open bathroom door, something didn’t feel right. It was quiet. Too quiet.

He peeked into the bathroom and immediately scrunched up his face after being met with a horrendous smell. Alan dry heaved at the sight of a little ‘accident’ Rascal had left him on tiled bathroom floor. He retched again.

However, he felt his body drain at the sight of something much more horrifying. The latch on the crate had been broken off, and the door was open with no Rascal inside.

Alan felt nauseated walking down the hall, his heart pounding in his chest.

When he made it to the lounge room, he nearly lost last nights dinner. He felt his jaw drop and his knees weaken at the sight. His jaw trembling.

His Christmas tree lay on its side with all its decorations fallen off and tinsel all over the place. Piles of fluff were strewn across the floor, gutted from the pillow cases laying next to them.

There were red saucy paw prints all over the lounge and floor. Alans shoes laid on the floor with fluff sticking out of the backs were they had been chewed, his laces ripped apart. Scratch marks on the wall. Empty wrappers floated around the living room. The priceless figurines were no longer on their shelf but spread all over the place, chewed to pieces.

Alan could hear cupboard doors banging from the kitchen and he numbly made his way there. The rubbish bin in the kitchen had been knocked over and the thrown out tomato sauce bottle lay next to it, red sauce leaking out.

Alan looked to were the banging sound was coming from. Rascal had his red paws up on one of the cupboard doors labeled ‘snacks’ and was trying to pry it open with his nose. Alan gritted his teeth, he’s blood boiling.

“You…”

Alan couldn’t speak, he just stormed out the back door to get the chain. When he returned, Rascal was already jumping all over him, licking him and leaving sauce stains on his legs.

Alan was too numb to react, he just clipped the chain to Rascal’s collar and marched out the front door, nearly dragging Rascal behind him.

Still in his pyjamas, hair looking like a birds nest, sauce all over his pyjama pants and a white Labrador Retriever nearly yanking his arm out of its socket, Alan marched determinedly to his destination. The pound.

Rascal tried cocking his leg at every tree and pole they passed but Alan yanked him along. They made it to a park, and Alan nearly out of breath sat down on a park bench, holding tightly to the chain.

Alan sat there thinking about the events that had taken place these last two days, it had been the most eventful two days he had in a long time. Never had Alan felt so out of control.

For years he tried desperately keep everything in order. He was so afraid of everything going wrong and despite all he’s hard work, in a matter of two days he lost control of everything, and there was nothing he could about it.

He looked around the park, litter blew across the grass, dogs jumped on their owners while the owners just laughed. Families sat at picnics throwing food at each other, just laughing and smiling.

How were these people so carefree and happy with so much disorder around them. Alan felt warm fur press against his leg. He looked down at Rascal who was sitting there panting, tongue hanging out and glancing up at Alan.

A couple days ago Alan would have jolted away from the dog but now he found himself just sitting there with Rascal leaning against his leg.

He was too tired and too exhausted from trying to control everything.

“Well Rascal, you really kept me on my feet these holidays.”

Rascal looked up at him with deep dark eyes, and Alan felt a warm fuzzy feeling in his chest. He stood up, leading Rascal, and made his way to the pound.

“What a beautiful pup you got there,” said the pound receptionist.

“We will take good care of him, and find him a good home.”

“Won’t we boy,” she said to Rascal.

“He sure is,” said Alan.

As he turned to leave, Rascal let out a yelp and starting barking.

“Yap.yap.yap.”

He was pulling on his leash trying to reach Alan.

“Sorry boy.” And Alan left the pound while Rascal whimpered and yelped.

Alan spent the next couple days back to his normal routine. He got his bathroom door fixed, and the holes in the yard refilled. He had the battery in his car replaced but he still couldn’t get a hold of his sister.

He cleaned his whole house, thoroughly.

Everything was back in control.

Except something was missing. Alan felt empty. Having Rascal here, despite the chaos, had been the most alive Alan had felt.

Alan couldn’t live like this anymore.

He had to get Rascal back.

“Sorry sir, but someone already adopted the little lab just before you got here.” Alan felt his stomach sink.

Alan left the pound feeling deflated. It was too late.

When he got back home he saw his sisters car sitting in his driveway. Anita stood on his veranda.

“I just knew you would go back for him, Alan”

“Huh” Alan felt confused.

And then it clicked.

Anita was the one who had sent Rascal as a gift.

And then Anita opened his front door, and a white, fluffy puppy came leaping out and landed on Alan’s chest. Alan rolled on his back, Rascal licking his face. Alan was laughing.

“Merry Christmas, Alan” said Anita smiling.

One year on, Alan sat on his lounge with Rascal looking at the Christmas tree, the star hanging crooked.

He was much bigger now and well trained.

It turned out that Anita had intentionally drained his car battery by turning on his headlights the last time she visited, and had blocked his number.

Anita had explained to Alan that she was tired of seeing him live like this, and she needed to show Alan he couldn’t control everything. He needed to live.

Anita was over for Christmas this year, even Alan’s parents had come to town to visit.

The house was tidy, but more importantly Alan was happy.

Yeah, this was going to be the perfect Christmas.

Than the doorbell rang.