The Ram Rebellion(38)

"Ooh, now you are going to get it!" exclaimed the voice. The small canine, little more than a cub, looked over his shoulder and yelped in fright. The warning was enough for him to get mostly out of the way. But mostly is not the same as all, and Brillo shifted his attack as much as possible to make it as much as possible. The result was a glancing blow to the tail, which sent the pup flying. When the pup landed, he leapt to his feet with a yip of pain and saw Brillo turning around for another pass.





His mother had told him that discretion was the better part of valor in a failed attack such as this one, and he became rapidly discreet, all the way to the woods, yipping in pain each time his hind legs hit the ground.





Brillo slowed as he saw his victim in full flight, and stopped near where he had hit the pup. "Snort! Don' come back, ya stoopid yapper!"





Brillo was about to head back to the pen when the voice said, "Thank you ever so much for saving me, Brillo!" Brillo quickly looked around but could see no one. "Who dat?"





"My name is Annie, I belong to Johan's daughters." Brillo peered down at the ground. There indeed was the doll he had seen before, when the daughters had been out playing near the pen. "How come you never talked afore?" asked Brillo.





"It is part of the Guild rules, we have to listen to people and children, but we can talk to animals," replied Annie, who was mournfully holding her left leg in her arms.





"Stoopid hooman rules, humph! Well, I gotta get back te my wimmen. They don' feel safe witout me."





"Oh, please, do not leave me out here in the field! Please, please take me back to the house where I can be found!"





"Why? I gots family te watch and take care of."





"I know, but it will only take a few minutes for you to run me over there. You run so fast, I bet you could go it in less time than it takes to squirm back into the pen. Besides, a good deed is its own reward."





Brillo puffed himself up with pride. "Yah, I will take ya." Leaning over, he grabbed the doll in his mouth, growling about the horrible doggy aftertaste. Quickly he went to the back porch and tossed the doll onto it.





"Satisfied?" Getting no answer, Brillo repeated, "I said sat—"





Brillo stood like a sheep in a headlight. Only in this case it was a flood light. He heard the door open.





"You monster! Johan, tomorrow we have mutton! This is the last straw! Ripping up your daughter's doll!"





Johan and J.D. were scanning the woods edge. Johan bent over to pick up the doll and his nose flared open. Brillo had an easily identified scent. As did dog. "Where is the wolf now, eh?"





Flo's husband was scanning the woods edge with the sight on his rifle. Brillo looked towards the woods and snorted. He pawed the ground, gave a tossing motion with his horns and sneered.





"J.D., did you see that?" quavered Flo.





"See what, honey?" He lowered the rifle, and said, "Johan, I don't see anything now, it must have run off."





"But, but, but . . ." Flo stuttered to a halt.





"You all right?" asked her husband.





"I need to get back to bed. Johan, take that creature back to the pen and see that he stays there!"





"All right. Come on Brillo, back to your post." Fortunately, Flo could not see the grin on Johan's face as he firmly guided Brillo home.





A good deed is it own reward, huh? snorted Brillo . . .





Local Woman Goes Buggy


Paula Goodlett




"Flo, have you seen this one?" J.D. asked, while hiding a smirk. "It seems you've made the news again."





Flo, irritated beyond endurance, read the broadsheet J.D. handed her. The title, under the usual graphic drawing, read:





LOCAL WOMAN GOES BUGGY





An interested observer reports that Mrs. J.D. Richards appears to be having a nervous breakdown. As evidence, we present the following letter, purported to have come from the desk of the person in question:





Dear Mary,



Brillo is NOT my silly ram. Brillo is my business partner Johan's silly ram. And he's not silly. If he was silly he wouldn't be a problem. The problem is he's SMART, and he's out to get me. Everybody seems to think he's just a poor misunderstood dumb animal, but they are WRONG. He is the devil in sheep's clothing. He takes every opportunity to get at me, and when I try to point out his behavior, he stands there all innocence. But I know what he's really like. If he wasn't such a hero to everyone else he'd have been dinner ages ago.



With thanks,

Flo Richards





Flo finished reading, stunned. "J.D., I've never said that to anyone. I didn't write this letter!" she wailed. "What am I going to do? The whole town is going to believe this, just like they believe that stupid sheep killed a wolf."