The Titanic Trio. Season Two. Episode One.
It has been a long and lazy summer for a certain dog who resides in the black hole outside of Harmony Grove.
Bark Man is not a fan of the heat. Anything over seventy is considered too warm in his opinion. And the crime crusading outfit that one must wear to be ready to fight crime does bring on a lot of panting.
That is why he has taken to strewing his shit all over the living room between calls.
"How do you plan to fight crime if you don't even have your shoes on?" I asked him one morning between sips of coffee.
"You know firemen jump into their boots when the alarm goes off," he barked.
I couldn't really argue his point. I was just trying to make conversation. And honestly much of Bark Man's crime fighting does not involve shoes.
Take package deliveries for instance.
Bark Man hears about one out of every ten vehicles that come down our driveway to throw something on the front porch.
On those occasions he does not stop to pull his boots on and tie any shoe laces. He is at the dining room windows with his ferocious bellowing and is running back and forth and back and forth, even after the truck and it's driver are long gone.
And its not like he is planning to go outside to inspect the package to make sure it is not one of those ticking time bomb deliveries. He can always give it a sniff after I bring it inside the house.
Then there are the summer cases of thunder and lightening.
If a storm happens upon us and he is not in full uniform, he does not remove his thunder jacket and pull on his cape. There is no time for such nonsense. It is time to BARK! One must bark when it is necessary. Shoes or no shoes. With or without a cape. One must announce every cotton picking bolt. When you are trying to save the world from a thunderstorm, uniforms are trivial.
Tattle telling is huge on this crime fighters list of duties. And ratting on someone can be done without even getting up. Bark Man let's my sweet Sven and I know the whereabouts of Cat Lady, the oldest living crime fighting feline, if she decides to go up the stairs, down the stairs, on the table, into a bedroom, into the bathroom or back to her fancy assisted living basement apartment.
He barks bloody murder if Tuxedo Boy, the world's best dressed crime fighting cat who also lives here, is hanging from the screen, waltzing past with a baby rabbit or if he is spotted laying in the driveway.
If any of the bowls of water strategically placed through out the house are found empty. Or if Tuxedo Boy or Cat Lady are seen helping themselves to a sip, it is a must situation that calls for barking.
"Why do you have all this stuff if you are never going to wear it?" I asked one evening after removing his mask so that I could sit on the couch.
"It's my gig," he said and laid his head back down on the carpet.
I noticed his rear end was stationed on the one little patch of wood flooring he managed to find that lacked a rug topping so that a certain aging crime fighting canine will have enough traction to stand his ass back up.
"I ordered something for you," I told him.
He perked up. "Dingo Dyno Sticks?"
"You'll see. It will arrive on Friday. So try not to be rude to the delivery person this time."
On Friday a cape less, shoeless, Bark Man was rude as hell to the driver who was just trying to do her job.
I carried in the package she left on the porch and brought it to the fearless dog who had circled three times and landed with a thud.
Bark Man gave it an official sniff.
"Nothing," he said.
I put it up to his ear.
"Do you hear any ticking?"
"No. I think it's safe," he announced.
I would have let Bark Man open the package, since I knew it was his, but memories of past Christmases and birthdays came flooding to me with visions of flying paper, bows and stuffing, filling the air.
This gave me pause.
The dude had no idea it was Friday anyway.
I opened it.
"Hey Puppy Dog, look," I said holding it up.
"What is that?" he said.
"It's a sling to add to your arsenal of crime fighting weapons. In case you need a little help getting your ass up when duty calls, this soft side slips under your belly. That way your dad and I can help pull you to your feet with these handles."
"Cool!" he said and laid his head back down.
"But Bark Man, this sling is very dangerous if used unnecessarily. It is only for emergencies. It is not to be used every time you decide to make a move. Got it?"
Bark Man was not listening.
He was napping.
Crime fighters are at their best when well rested.
For more stories in this crime fighting series, click above on Titanic Trio.