The California Hounds

A Night of Contemplation

June 1998 

It was a quiet night in Manhattan. The stars glimmered bright in the bluish-black sky and the moon shone down on the glistening skyscrapers.

On Fagin's houseboat, all was still, and the occupants were asleep. Fagin was slumped in his armchair, as the TV continued to flicker; Einstein rested on a mattress, with his legs in the air, Dodger and Rita were resting on a cushion; a bit of a squeeze with their four pups; the eldest, Jack, had his father's build and bore an almost striking resemblance to his father, except for brown patches on his front paws; their two daughters Stella and Lila, mostly took after their mother, with Stella having more cream-and-brown-colored fur and her sister having her mother's build but her father's coloring; the youngest, Sam looked exactly like a younger version of his father.

Everyone was sleeping, quiet as a mouse, except for one.

Francis, the cultured, classy Bulldog of the group, was sitting on the houseboat's deck; gazing off towards the moonlit sky; he could feel the summer wind tickling his jowls; on nights like this, it was a perfect place to reflect.

Suddenly, Francis's reverie was broken by the sounds of footsteps. He turned to see Tito, the feisty Chihuahua of the gang approaching.

"Hey, Frankie!" He called. "Come back inside."

Francis breathed in. "First of all, call me Francis. Second, I just came to think."

"About what?" Francis asked.

Francis stared out towards the horizon. "I saw eternity the other night. Like a great ring of pure and endless light. All was calm and all was bright. And round beneath it, time in hours, days and years, driven by..."

"What are ya talkin about? And who said that?" Tito was confused.

"That was the poetic genius of Sir Henry Vaughan. And, Tito, I was thinking," Francis continued staring. Tito joined him.

"About what?" The chihuahua cocked his head.

"Would you like to come with me, just the two of us, on a vacation?" The Bulldog asked in his mellifluous voice.

"A vacation?" The chihuahua smiled. "Sure, mi amigo!"

"Anywhere you want to go. I don't mind," Francis nodded. Tito stopped to think. Where could the two friends go on a guys' vacation?

"How about...Los Angeles?" Tito asked.

"Los Angeles? In California?" Francis cocked his eyebrows. 

"Si," Tito nodded. "Are ya sure ya wanna come with me? Cuz I could always take..."

"I actually like the idea," Francis smiled. "Anywhere would be good, so long as I can get off babysitting duties."

The bulldog shuddered slightly. Since the birth of the pups, he'd frequently been on the receiving end of getting jumped on, having his ears chewed, and generally being treated like a glorified toy; Tito and Einstein, on the other hand, loved it.

"Hey, ya think Dodger was ever this bad when he was a pup?" Tito quipped. 

"I wonder where the pups could have gotten their lousy attitudes?" Francis rolled his eyes. "Still, let's get some rest; I want to be up, fresh and early tomorrow morning, so we can head out."

As the two walked back into the houseboat, Tito asked, "Ya think we should tell everyone?"

"No," Francis quipped. "I'd prefer to keep it on the downlow."

The two friends fell back asleep; inside though they were excited for the California road trip.