Red Tape

A Shaggy Dog's Tale

Fred made the coffee as the sunrise shooed away the night. He loved the stillness of this time. The sounds of his home on the ranch came to him in whispers, the sharp but faint tap of his booted footsteps on the floor, clear and distinct but not loud enough to wake Betty and the kids, the odd creaks and groans that haunt all old houses, the random clucking of the hens in the yard outside as they swept the yard for food. That was a sign that this still time was ebbing away, the animals, the ranch and soon the house would be fully awake to life.

This is what he had given up his business for. The long hours, the rat race, talking to clients, company buy-outs, and mergers all gone. Now he and his family lived out on this small farm (he liked to call it his "ranch" a symptom of watching too many westerns with his grandfather as a kid) self-sufficient, with a carbon footprint the size of Amazon's tax payments and fresh air and homeschooling for the kids.

The first real stirrings of the day came as the coffee maker began filling the pot with black bitter liquid; Scooby came into the kitchen ears pricked, tail wagging. A thin mongrel mix of what appeared to be German Shepard and whippet, the black and blond of the Alsatian was there but petered out into light chocolate brown with flecks of gray which mirrored the aging fibers in Fred's own hair and beard. Reinforcing the popular myth that dogs and their masters molded themselves on each other.

They greeted each other as they always did. Fred running his hands through Scooby's fur behind the neck and head, the dog's rough tongue licking his face, front paws on his arms as he bent down to greet him. He was always the first to come and seek him out. Betty joked that they were having an affair behind her back. Domestic infidelities aside, Scooby was a part of the family. They had had him since he was a pup.

After coffee, Fred and Scooby went outside, Fred attended to his chores around the yard. As he finished emptying the van of feed and seeds for his trip to town, Scooby turned towards the house with loud barks that started deep and ended with high whelps with rolling growls in between. "OK, let's go see them, boy." Betty and the kids were up.

As they entered Hanna and Barbara rushed to meet them both, the two girls swirling around the barking dog who spun in a wild, excited dervish playing a mock game of tag with them. Betty came in, still in her pajamas and bathrobe, and shot them a vexed look.

"Hey, What's Sauron the destroyer of sofas doing in here, you know the rules," She said.

"Sorry, but he just wanted to see the kids," Fred replied.

About a week ago Scooby had pretty much totaled the sofa and Betty was still fuming and had made a new no dog in the house Family policy.

Scooby's ears perked up and almost seemed to express a wounded look on his face as if he knew they were talking about him. Fred recognized that look on Betty's face and knew that in this case discretion was the better part of valor. "Come on boy," he called and lead the dog back out to the yard the girls sighing out their disappointment as their favorite playmate left.

He came back in for more coffee, leaving Scooby whimpering at the back door. Betty ushered the two little girls to the breakfast table on the first step of their getting ready for school routine. "I'm sorry guys but until that... dog," she struggled to not use a less derogatory term "learns to respect this house he is not welcome inside," She explained more for the kid's sake than Fred's although she still shot him a "can't you for once back me up on this" look. "Your mother's right, we can't have Scooby mucking up the place" He complied, knowing full well that this was a battle not worth fighting.

"What's on for today?" she asked him as she started pouring homemade pancake mix onto a hot pan.

"I've got to go into town and pick up some fencing," he said "Then I'll spend most of the day fixing the enclosure up north, besides Johnny's Place"