Hungerford's Dog

Hungerford needed to get Away. Events had conspired, the planets had aligned, and conventional wisdom had resolved such that it was imperative he leave Twisty River for a time and head east. Like a plant that ate people as if they were Soylent Green, Twisty River had the tendency to devour one. Rummaging through the Antiquities stacks at Twisty River library, Ray had found stereopticon images of advertisements from the 1905 Twisty River Bee And Mail, declaring, "Twisty River: It Devours One". Ray knew more than anyone the soul-destroying ennui that plagued Hungerford. How did he know? Ray was Hungerford's NA sponsor.

"I smoke so goddamn much," sobbed Hungerford, "and I don't care if you know what my name is. I'm ready to freebase my six-month medallion."

So Hungerford left town to take the cure at some magma-fed hot springs alongside Rt. 84 near Darien. All Ray had to do was take care of Hungerford's dog, Abzug.

Abzug was dropped off by Hungerford's girlfriend. In a duffel bag were Ziploced bags of kibble, whey biscuits, a water bowl, a choke collar, and a DVD of skateboarding dwarves having sex, which Hungerford had placed in the wrong duffel bag. Abzug, who was a good dog, bounded around the house.

"I will take care of Hungerford's dog," quoth Ray to Hungerford's girlfriend.

Not having taken care of a dog since the death by Swallowing of his sheltie Cerberus, Ray was excited. But all wasn't well in the house.

Ray's cats began backing up against things, and not in a good way. Used to having Ray all to themselves, the cats were not happy to share. Like entrenched and lazy municipal employees kept on by the new privatized management in hopes they would quit and thus save on unemployment insurance, the cats began balling themselves up in the back bathroom while Abzug joyfully ate soap, cat food, bits of proferred steak, and no whey tablets.

"No whey?" cried Ray.

"Way," quoth Abzug.

Abzug was proving a better pet than the cats, who were sullen, fat, and intolerant. Those adjectives unearthed unpleasant associations. When Abzug was outside, dozing in the sun, her tail twitching as she dreamed of rabbits, dog biscuits, and Hungerford, whom she loved, the cats slank from the recesses of the house to nervously sniff at Abzug's blanket.

After two days, the cats did not flee to the bathtub or the nether closets. They flattened themselves against the walls of the rooms through which Abzug frolicked.

On the fourth day, the smaller of the cats stepped over Abzug on the way to the litterbox.

On the fifth day, the larger of the cats passed out within feet of Abzug's horrible biscuity breath, sleeping, as was its slothful wont, for 26 hours like a slowly spreading meatloaf.

Then, on the ninth day out from Hungerford's departure, something wonderful happened: the cats appeared to fall in love with Hungerford's dog.

Yes, they fell in love with her. It was both wholesome and disgusting, sacred and profane. Each morning they killed a spider from the bathtub and brought it to her. Solemnly eating it, Abzug then gingerly picked up each of the cats by the scruff of the neck and carried it around the house. The cats writhed and purred. Hungerford's dog, not knowing them any better, groomed each for several hours.

And that was the way Ray's cats killed Hungerford's dog. Each morning before dawn, as Hungerford's dog slept at the foot of Ray's bed, the cats bathed in an arsenic and kryptonite mixture, poured into the back bathtub with the touch-sensitive faucets. Having developed an immunity to most toxins in the long-ago dumpster of their birth, the cats carefully blow-dried themselves by the dryer vent and lay in wait for Abzug's awakening, flicking their tails thickly and with menace in the morning sun. When Abzug woke, she trotted over to the cats, who let themselves be mouthed, twisting themselves in Abzug's maw to let the poison sink into her black gums.

When Abzug died, Ray sure had some 'splainin' to do. Naturally, Hungerford was heartbroken. "My dog is dead," Hungerford said.

"No kidding," Ray replied.

Ray sat on the couch with some low-alcohol carbonated beverage. The small cat jumped up to his right, the large cat jumped up to his left. "You killed Hungerford's dog," Ray said.

"No kidding," the cats replied.

"Bad cats," said Ray.