Fido's Californian Vacation

'Fido's Californian Vacation: Part One'

SUNDAY

I left the airport at noon local time, but on my body-clock it was 8 pm, and I was tired, hungry, and thirsty. My Lady, of course, would not deign to meet me on the main concourse; instead She had sent me a map of the Airport carpark, indicating that She would park in a discreet spot in a deserted portion reserved for long-stay parking. Unused to the enormous scale of American carparks, and in the direct glare of a noon Californian sun, I was soon hot and sweating in the inappropriately thick clothing suitable for an English Spring. Fortunately I carried only an airline bag with a few necessities; not even a change of clothing. "Slaves and animals don't wear clothes!" my Lady had coldly informed me. After a long, hot trudge over the baking asphalt I recognised my Lady's SUV - an enormous vehicle to my English eyes - standing on the very edge of the carpark, its back up to the scrubby boundary hedge. It had deeply tinted windows for the rear passenger seats; the tailgate window likewise - it was impossible to see into the interior. The engine was running to power the air-conditioning, and when I came up to the driver's window, my Lady lowered it, giving me a waft of refreshing cold air from inside.

She began as She was to continue. "Fido! Take off your clothes!" She instructed me, curtly. "Put them in this trash bag!" I had been half looking forward to, half dreading this moment, though I'd expected She would wait until She had taken me to Her house, but I found undressing before her the most natural thing in the world: it was obvious that She had no more interest in my body than She would in the body of an animal. Very soon I stood naked by her window, shifting from foot to foot on the hot surface. "Give me your paws!" She commanded, and I raised my hands and watched as She deftly slipped padded mitts on them, securing them at the wrist with thin, black plastic cable-straps. "Kneel!" and as I obeyed She exited lithely from Her seat, in her hand a short leash with a old leather dog collar dangling from it. She buckled the collar around my neck, turned away, and tugged sharply on my leash. "Heel!"; and the collar dug painfully ito my throat as She led me to the back of the SUV. My knees scorched by the hot, gritty surface, I followed Her meekly around the vehicle to the rear. There She pressed a catch, and the gigantic tailgate rose smoothly open. It was quite light inside, the tinted glass let the light in but not out, and I could see a closely-barred cage, fitting across the interior. She unbolted and swung open the cage door. "In, Fido!" She ordered, unclipping my leash as She spoke, and I scrambled up and into the cage, encouraged by a painful slash from the leather leash across my buttocks as I did so. She bolted the cage door on me, closed the tailgate, and got back into the driver's seat. Then She drove off.

The cage - about 42 inches long, and 30 inches high and wide - was hard up against the rear passenger seats; a thick, absorbent paper pad covered the steel floor. I was blessedly cool until my Lady, doubtless to reserve the cold air for the front of the car where she sat, raised a tinted glass partition between us. Then the temperature in the rear began to mount. It was difficult to see anything over the height of the sills and the tops of the passenger seats without pressing my back hard up against the bars of the cage and, in the end, I lay down on the soft paper pad. Lulled by our smooth and steady progress, I dozed off.

I was woken by the stopping of the vehicle, and by the sound of my Lady slamming Her door as She alighted. Seconds later I heard Her crisp footsteps retreating, getting softer and softer until I could hear them no more. Drowsily I wondered where we were; I could hear the muffled sounds of car engines starting and stopping, and of footsteps in the distance. Finally I got to all-fours, pressed my back against the bars at the top of my cramped cage, and peered over the window sill into the world outside. Row after row of parked cars, with here and there the forms of people coming and going to and from them, most of the those returning pushing laden shopping trolleys full of printed plastic bags. Then I knew where I was; this was obviously the carpark of one of those mammouth American Supermarkets I'd seen on films and television, and I'd been left in the car while my Lady went shopping, without explanation or apology, exactly as a dog would be.

It was hot and sticky in the back of the car; probably only the tiny fan whirring in the roof prevented me from heat exhaustion, before my Lady's return. Throwing Her shopping onto the front passenger seat, She started the engine and drove off. It was too hot for me to sleep, too uncomfortable for me to look out of the windows, so I lay miserably on the sticky paper pad, uneasily aware of my growing need to empty my bladder.

The drive went on and on, over straight smooth roads, until I became aware that we were climbing. The air grew somewhat cooler as we drove along what seemed an endless tree-shaded road. Finally we slowed, turned, and made our way slowly up a gravelled drive. The car stopped while my Lady aimed a remote control of some kind out of the window. Then She drove forward into an enormous garage and stopped; bright interior lights came on as the garage door folded down behind us.

I saw Her get out of Her seat, and watched as She came round the car to the rear. The tailgate raised, She unbolted the cage door. "Out, Fido!" and I scrambled to the ground to stand before Her. Her response was to slash me savagely across the chest with the short whip She carried. "All-fours! That is your default position; you will not stand on your hind legs unless ordered to!" I obeyed, frightened by Her intensity; She clipped the leash to my collar, and led me around the car to where another, somewhat larger cage stood against the wall, its sliding door raised. A chain about four feet long, attached to a staple welded to a door-jamb, snaked its way acrss the floor.

She stopped, and bent down a little, extending the palm of Her hand under my nose.

"Here, Fido!"

With a sudden flash of inspiration I understood what She wanted of me. Lowering my head to the floor, I picked up the end of the chain in my lips, raised my head and dropped the chain into Her waiting hand.

She clipped it to my collar, and took off the leash which She hung from a hook in the wall.

"Good boy!" She said approvingly, and my heart swelled at the first sign of affection She'd shown me.

Then She opened an adjacent door which led into the outside world. There was a step upwards to go through the door; a high step about two feet from the ground; a nearby wooden platform was obviously designed to be used as a step up to the threshold, but it had been moved aside.

"Lie down!....In front of the step!...On your belly!"

Wondering, I did as She ordered, wincing at the gritty concrete on the skin of my chest and stomach. To my astonishment She then placed Her foot on my back; I could feel the sand on Her shoe sole. Then She momentarily placed Her full weight on Her foot, and I groaned at the sudden pressure on my chest. I was aware of Her raising Her other foot over my prone body and placing it on the doorstep above me. She lifted Her foot from my back and, standing in the doorway, turned back to where I lay gasping.

"You will take that position whenever you're told to!....Now, get in your cage!"

Stiff, I scrambled to all-fours and into the cage. She pointed a remote controller at it, and the cage door slid smoothly downwards, trapping me inside. Then She closed the garage door on me, and left me alone.

The overhead lights went off, leaving only the wan light which struggled through a cob-webbed skylight high above me. My new cage was about four feet square and high; it seemed impossibly spacious compared with the cage I'd been brought here in. The floor was covered with another of those soft, thick, absorbent paper pads, and a small metal trough was welded into one corner of the cage. I scraped the oily grit from my chest and belly as best I could with my clumsy paws and lay down with a groan on the pad. But my bladder was screaming for release, and I knew I'd have to empty it. I dared not urinate on the floor of the garage, and in the end, I made water on a corner of the pad I lay on. Then, in spite of my novel surroundings, my jetlag caught up with me and I fell into an uneasy sleep.

I was fully woken by the noise of another door opening, the lights came on, and my Lady entered carrying a bucket. She splashed some of the contents into the metal trough, placed the bucket out of my reach, and left the way She had come. Painfully I rose, still stiff from my slumber, to examine the trough. There was water in it, and, dusty as it was, with bits of chaff floating on its surface, I was so thirsty that I lapped and sucked at it noisily until it was all gone.

I stretched my cramped limbs to ease them. My present position began to come fully home to me. I'd no idea where I was, I was naked, and I was confined to a few square feet in a cage, collared and chained like a dog. And like a caged beast, I was totally reliant on my Mistress or some other human being for food and water. My mitts made me helpless; without the use of my fingers my hands were as useless as the clumsy paws of an animal.

My short sleep made me restless; I longed to move around, to be active, and I tried to pace up and down to the limits of my cage. But my prison was much too small to allow that.

The afternoon was far advanced now, as I could tell by the lengthening shadows. Listen as hard as I could, there was no sound apart from the buzz of insects in the warm air. Was my Lady at home? Had She gone out and left me? I felt lonely and miserable; I was very hungry, and beginning to become thirsty again.

These thoughts were broken abruptly by my Lady's abrupt reappearance. She spoke no word to me; but picked up the water bucket and re-filled my trough.. I scrambled to it at once, and lapped up the warm, dusty water avidly. She stood by and watched me until I'd finished, then: "Sit!" She raised the cage door, put on my leash and detached the chain. "Heel, Fido!" She commanded; and She led me over to the steep step before the door which led to the open air.

"Lie down!" She commanded; then: "Good boy!" approvingly as I stretched myself on my belly before the step.

Once again I felt Her shoe on my back; again the crushing transfer of Her weight as She mounted the step. Standing in the doorframe, She twitched my leash. "Up, Fido!" and I scrambled up the step to join her in the afternon sunlight. I found myself in a large garden, with pruned bushes, flower beds, and manicured turf kept green by sprinklers. We crossed the wide gravelled drive which continued past the garage to end in a large turning loop in before the front door of the house. There, on the broad concrete threshold, about three feet away from the wall, stood a small wooden box. My Lady commanded me to "Sit!" and, after securing my leash to a staple in the wall, She removed the four sides and top of the box to reveal a cage inside it, a small cage, no longer then three feet, and less than two feet, high and wide. She swung open the rear door of the cage, and brought me to it. "In, Fido!" I obeyed with some awkwardness, as the cage was much too low for me to walk in normally; in the end I found it easiest to enter on my elbows and knees, and even then my uptilted rump scraped on the bars of the roof. Reaching the bars at the end, I heard the rear door slam shut, and heard my Lady's quick movements as She bent down and clasped a thick leather cuff around each of my ankles, then secured them firmly to the bars. She came to the front and did likewise with my wrists. Then, one at a time, She re-placed the wooden sides and roof, locking them in place with sliding steel bolts on the outside of the structure before leaving me.

I was very cramped in the hot little box; the low roof pressing on my back forced me to sit right back with my buttocks on my upturned heels; my head too was held low, and I was forced to rest on my elbows, with my forearms extended in front of me. I tested the bonds which held my wrist and ankles tight against the bars: they were rigid; the only movement possible was that of my head, which I could raise and lower about six inches, and move for and aft about a foot, above what seemd to be a short horizontal steel grill which protruded, from the wooden front piece, between the bars in front of me.

My Lady's footsteps approached again. I heard Her sit on one of the two rocking chairs which flanked a small table on the opposite side of the porch; then I heard the slow squeak of the rockers and the occasioal tinkle of ice as She drank from Her glass. Then there came up the drive the harsh, tinny rattle of a small foreign imported car. It stopped, a door slammed, and eager feet came running up the steps.

"Hi, big Sis!" The voice was young and blithe; obviously, from the familiar salutation, that of the young lady, my Lady's sister. "Did you get it? Where is it? Is it, like, in its cage?"

"Good afternoon, little sister!" came my Lady's reply. "Yes; I have it! And it's in its box right here! Now sit down and have some iced tea! You'll have plenty of time to play with it later!"

"Wow! In its box already?"

There was a flurry of movement, and a rubber-soled foot kicked the side of the box.

"Do sit down, child," My Lady told her teasingly. "Have a drink and cool down......and then, as you're my much-loved little sister, it shall clean those shabby old sneakers of yours!"

"Oh, wow!" came the happy reply.

I heard her move away, then the gurgle of a liquid being poured and the tinkle of ice.

But the young lady was too impatient to rest for long; only a short time passed before I sensed her standing at the front of my box.

"What'll I do now, big Sis ?" she called excitedly.

"Place your foot on the grill and slide it forward. A flap will open to let your foot through so it can get to work!"

"What if it, like, won't co-operate, big Sis?"

"Just press that red button on top there; you'll soon find it co-operating!"

I heard a giggle, then the sound of her sneaker being set on the grill beyond the wooden front. It scraped forward as she slid her foot a long, then a wooden flap opened abruptly, and her tattered old sneaker came to rest below my mouth. Light leaked in through the open flap past the bulk of her foot, and I regarded with distaste the dusty threadbare canvas of the upper and the dirty white plastic of the welt Then an agonising pain shot through my back, and I lowered my head to my task.

I licked the dust from the canvas top, then, before my tongue could dry out, I licked industriously at the slick plastic of the welt, pleased to see the dirt come off quite easily. She rotated her foot, allowing me to lick the plastic sole. The dirt and grit in the treads came off easily too, though it dried out my mouth, and before long she withdrew her foot and studied the results.

"Wow! Like; neat big Sis! Now for the other shoe!"

"Give it some water to moisten its mouth first, dear. You'll find a small dish on top of its box," advised my Lady.

A small, shallow dish of water appeared throught the flap. I lapped it eagerly until it was all gone. Then the dish was removed, to be replaced by another dirty sneaker for me to wash with my tongue. Finally the sneaker was withdrawn, to cries of glee from the young lady as she regarded her clean footwear. More water was put through the flap, and I tasted the slimy mixture of dirt and grit in my mouth, finally swallowing it, as I feared my Lady's reaction should I spit it out on the floor in front of me.

Outside the two were talking.

"There!" said my Lady. "That's the cleanest those wretched sneakers have been since you first bought them, little sister!"

"That's really cool, big Sis!" came the young lady's excited voice, and I pictured her sitting in her rocking chair, a long cool drink in her hand, while she admired her clean shoes. "It's very tame, isn't it? Are you having it clean your shoes now?"

"Not these shoes, dear; it would ruin them! My lacquoured business shoes tomorrow before I go to the office, maybe. And now, I think that to celebrate we'll dine out. Your choice....and I'll pay!"

"Oh, wow!" came her sister's delighted reply. "Giovanni's - best pizza on the Coast! And I'll drive!"

My Lady groaned affectionately. "Poor little savage!" she laughed. "When will you ever appreciate the finer things in life? Very well; Giovanni's it shall be. Now I shall bathe and change; and so shall you, my dear - even if it is into yet another of your wretched outfits of jeans and tee-shirt!"

"You're an old stick in the mud, big Sis!" Her sister laughed. "But what about the dog? Are you going to leave it in its box?"

"No; that would be cruel!" my Lady replied. "You may put it back in its cage, if you like. And remember what I told you to do when you go through the door into the garage!....Here's the remote for the cage door!"

"Gee, thanks, big Sis! That will be really cool!"

I heard movements near me, and suddenly the wooden roof was lifted off, dazzling me with the inrush of light. the side and front of the box were quickly removed, the cage door was opened, and I was led out, stiff from my confinement.

I could see little of the young lady; only the lower legs of her faded jeans, and her newly-cleaned sneakers. She tugged my leash, bring me to her side where my head brushed the material of her jeans. Then she led me the few yards to the door into the garage where she stopped me on the threshold. "Down, boy!" she ordered. Then, when I'd scrambled to the foot of the step, "Lie down!" With dunb fatalism, I lay face down again on my belly, and waited for what was to follow. The young lady was not yet filled out into my Lady's full-bodied femininity, and nowhere near as heavy, but as she stepped down onto my back, her full weight transferred to my aching chest. She descended, led me the couple of feet to my cage, exhanged my leash for the chain, and ordered me inside. She thumbed the remote, the door closed on me; then she stroked my hair through the bars. "Good boy! Good Fido!" she crooned. "Who's a clever dog, then?" I felt her fingers scratch the back of my neck, catching now and then in my collar. But she soon tired of her game and left, the garage lights going out behind her.

A little later I heard her small car rattle away down the drive, and knew they had left me. Alone in my cage I tried to get to grips with the events of the day. I was surprised by the ease with which my Lady had imposed Her will upon me, at the resigned obedience I had shown to Her commands. But then, Her will had been dominant over me six thousand miles away; in Her actual physical presence I was helpless to even think of disobeying Her. And, strangely, I was enjoying the experience in an odd way. Being treated as an animal, kept in a cage and only let out on a leash, seemed to give me a queer sense of security: helpless, and unable to do anything unsupervised meant I couldn't do anything to displease Her. And my Lady was my Mistress; She owned me; She had put Her collar around my neck; She would not let any real harm come to Her property. I was very hungry; but She would feed me when She remembered to.

With this comforting thought, I drifted off into a doze; to be woken by the sound of the young lady's ramshackle old car coming to a halt outside. The garage door rose, the small car was driven in, and my lady and her sister alighted from it.

My Lady passed quite close to me, completely ignoring me. The young lady, however, paused for a moment by my cage.

"I'll give it some water, Sis!" she called out.

"Yes; do that," came the indifferent reply, as my Lady went through the door leading into the house.

Liquid splashed into my trough, and the young lady left me in darkness. I lapped the water noisily, then lay down again and tried to get back to sleep.

MONDAY

I woke in pitch darkness to a novel and unwelcome sensation. For the first time since I'd arrived in California I was cold! And it was really cold; I shivered and tried to curl myself into as tight a ball as I could. Of course! Southern California was a desert, and deserts give up their heat readily at night, with temperatures often dipping below freezing depending on the season. My bladder was full again too, and I emptied it into the same spot as before, noting with dismay the growing area of cold dampness which was encroaching on the part of the pad where I had to lie. It was beginning to smell too, and I trembled with fear at my Lady's probable reaction. But then reason prevailed; She would appreciate that as a caged animal, obliged to relieve myself in my cage, it was impossible to avoid being smelly. Which led to another thought. My skin was grimy and sticky; how would She keep me clean? Would she even bother? But all this was entirely in Her hands; there was nothing I could do about it; and I fell again into an uneasy, broken slumber, amid intervals of wakefulness caused by my hunger and the increasing cold.

Never before have I been so happy to see the lightening sky of dawn. The rising sun meant light and warmth. It was still grey, however, when the door to the house opened and my Lady came in to me. She was dressed casually; in smart brown slacks, brown brogues, a brown silk shirt, and a short, warm brown jacket. Without a word She opened the cage door, put on my leash, and led me out. Pausing at the rear of the SUV, She opened the tailgate and commanded me into the cage inside. I scrambled in, She bolted the door and closed the tailgate, then got into the driver's seat. She started the engine and thumbed the remote to raise the garage door. Then She drove out, up the drive and out on to the road beyond.

We didn't seem to go far; only a few minutes later the car was stopped. She opened the tailgate and motioned me out, clipping to my collar a long, leather leash as I emerged. We stood on a length of concrete, beyond which was a deserted beach, with the grey line of the ocean in the distance. Leading me around the car, She climbed back into the driver's seat. The car began to move very slowly forward, onto the hard-packed sand of the beach.

At first I could keep up on all-fours, but as the pace gently increased I found I had to rise and walk upright. The speed increased again, and very soon I was in a fast trot, my leash, which She held in a hand resting nonchalently on the door-sill, tugging continually on my collar. Soon I was panting for breath, but the car drove on. Finally She drew to a halt, and I collapsed on the sand, sobbing with fatigue. My Lady ignored me; She merely took up a Thermos flask, and poured Herself a cup of steaming coffee. Taking out some business papers, She began to read them spread over the steering wheel. After about five minutes She glanced casually at me where I lay on the sand, then re-started the engine. I rose wearily to my feet and followed the car as She turned it, then drove back the way we had come, with me trotting at its side. Only a few minutes later I was back in my cage in the rear, and a few minutes after that we were stopped at the head of the drive. There She led me out to the door opening into the garage. At the top of the steep step downwards, She paused and stabbed Her finger wordlessly towards the floor. I knew what to do; I lowered my self to the garage floor and lay down under the step. I felt again Her transitory weight on my back, squeezing the breath from my lungs. She raised my cage door, attached the chain, took off the leash, and ushered me inside. She splashed a little water into my trough, and left. A little later I heard the sharp clack of the soles of Her leather shoes as She emerged from changing into Her business suit; the sound of the SUV door closing, and of its being driven off. No longer cold, thanks to my recent violent exercise, but terribly hungry, I lay down hopelessly on the smelly paper pad.

How long I lay there, in an exhausted half-trance, I do not know; but after what seemed a long time in the mounting warmth of the garage, the door to the interiorof the house opened, and the young lady came in. She was fresh from her bed, her hair tousled. She wore only a pair of backless slippers to protect her feet, and her sole garment appeared to be an over sized tee-shirt which descended to her knees. She yawned as she raised the cage door and summoned me forth. There she clipped on my long leash, and, after detaching my chain, led me out of the garage and into the house proper.

Through a short passage, and we emerged into one of those enormous American kitchens, all polished tiles and woodwork; cooking appliances of every description gleaming on tops and counters lining the walls. She led me into a far corner, and up to yet another cage; a wire-mesh one this time, about four and a half feet long and three feet high and wide. Raising the door with the remote, She unclipped my leash and ushered me in, encouraging my progress with a light slap with the leash across my haunches. Lowering the door on me, she turned away to rummage in a cupboard under the elaborate sink. She took from it a large plastic dog bowl and a bucket. Placing the dish on the floor, she emptied the contents of the bucket into it, wrinkling her nose at the smell as she did so. She picked up the dish, slid aside a flap in the bottom of the cage door, and slid it through. "There, Fido!" she said. "Good dog!" and she left me to go and sit at the table where she poured cereal from a box into a dish, added milk, and began to eat sleepily.

I stared down at the mess in the faded pink bowl. It looked moist and crumbly, and I could see in it, all mixed together, crusts of bread, vegetable scrapings, fruit peels and cores, bacon rinds, and all the usual leftovers and scraps from preparing and eating meals. It smelled rank and sour. I lowered my head to it doubtfully, but my hunger took command instantly and beyond my power to resist, and I gobbled it down as fast as I possibly could, finishing it all even before the young lady had finished her cereal. Then I lay down, and let out a satisfied belch, causing my Lady's sister to turn to me with a smile.

"Nice, was it, Fido?" she asked.

After taking her used dish to the sink, she left the room. I heard the sound of her feet tripping lightly up some stairs, then the sound of a shower running. A few minutes later she returned, dressed in clean, faded jeans and an old UCLA Tee-shirt. The usual battered sneakers covered her feet. She placed on the table a large, scarred leather briefcase, then came over to my cage. After raising the door she ordered me out and clipped on my leash again.

"Come on, boy!" she said, "and let's see what big Sis got for you at the Petstore!"

Leading me to the table she made me sit while she rummaged through the contents of a gaily-coloured plastic shopping bag.

"Oh!" she cried. "Your own little name-disc!"

She tok it up and read from its surface.

" It says 'Fido' " she informed me. "And on the other side 'This animal is the property of Ms Cardew - and our 'phone number! Aren't you a lucky dog? And look - a cute little bell for your collar! Sit still, now, Fido!"

She bent and tagged the disc and the bell to my collar, where it tinkled softly at the briefest movement of my head. She rose, took up the case, and led me out of the kitchen and through a door which led out onto a shallow flight of stone steps and out onto a closely-clipped lawn. Across the cool grass we went, and onto a wide tree-lined path, paved on either side, with a broad grass strip down the middle. She walked slowly along the slabs, with me by her side on all-fours on the grass, my bell tinkling, feeling again that strange sense of content and security at being led.

The garden seemed enormous; we seemed to walk a long way, and my 'front' legs were begining to tire when we came or the trees to see before us, across another, smaller lawn, a pretty wooden summerhouse, a wide balcony with a polished wooden balustrade along one side. Up broad wooden steps she led me, and onto the floor of the balcony. There she tied my leash to an upright, and entered the body of the structure. She came back with a length of coarse sacking, which she spread on the floor; and a long rope, one end of which she tied around the upright, and the other she clipped to my collar. She took off the leash and laid it on a nearby table, at which she then seated herself. Opening the briefcase, she took from it a laptop computer, a mobile telephone,a large notebook, and a collection of CD Roms.

I lay comfortably on my stomach, my chin propped on my paws, and watched her as she booted up her computer and put in a CD. She frowned at the result, then burst into a flurry of action, typing quickly, surely, and accurately, staring intently at the monitor, and now and then making a short note on her pad.

After a time I drowsed off in the warmth. Waking again, I was aware of an uncomfortably distended feeling in my abdomen. I rose and stretched. The tinkle of my bell attracted her attention and I went over to her, whining in distress.

"What is it, Fido?" she asked, distractedly.

I whined again, trying to get over to her my urgent need. In the end I had to squat down, lowering my haunches in dumb show.

Realisation suddenly showed in her eyes. She rose to her feet and took up my leash.

"Oh, you poor thing!" she exclaimed. "Come on, then!"

She took me on my leash down the steps, and around a corner of the building onto a patch of loose sandy soil.

"There you are, Fido!" she said.

She stood by, holding my leash as I squatted and emptied my bowels; afterwards, as if by some atavistic instinct, I scraped sand over the result back through my legs with my front paws.

Back on the balcony on the long tether, I lay down on the sacking again while she carried on with her work. After a time she rose, went into the interior, and came out again bearing a tall, frosted glass, tinkling with ice. She sat with a sigh of content and took a long, slow pull at her drink.

With a sudden impulse I rose, and slowly walked over to her. I lowered my head, and rubbed it against the coarse cloth of her jeans, causing her to lay her hand on my head and absently run her fingers through my hair. I sat and laid my head on the side of her warm thigh; she lowered her hand to where she could scratch the hairline at the back of my neck.

We sat there together in sleepy mutual content until she stirred.

"You're a good dog, Fido!" she said. "Has big Sis taught you any tricks yet?"

I looked up at her.

"Let's see if you can do any tricks!" she said, and, rising to her feet, she untied my tether and led me out on the lawn, where she re-tied it round the trunk of a small tree in the centre. She left me and went back into the summerhouse, to re-emerge carring a short, flexible riding Crop.

"Fido!..Sit!" she commanded, with a light rap on my shoulder. When I obeyed, haunches on my heels, front paws flat on the ground in front of my knees, she walked around me, examining my stance critically. She poked my flank with the crop.

"Back and front legs straight! Head up!" she ordered. Then: "Good dog!....Fido!......Lie down!" The Crop stung me on the left buttock, and I flopped immediately onto my left side to lie facing her.

"Fido! Sit!.........Fido! Lie down!" Over and over until she was satisfied wiht the speed of my responses and the positions I tok up at her command. Then she introduced "Fido!..Up!" which she taught me meant I should stand on all fours, with my four legs straight and parallel, and my back horizontal. Then: "Fido!....Roll over!" on my back with my legs in the air as best I could get them.

She took me through this routine time and time again, each command being prefaced by my name and accompanied by a blow from the crop.

Finally she returned me to the balcony and tethered me again. She went in and got herself a fresh drink, and a shallow bowl of water for me. Then she carried on with her work while I fell asleep for a time, to be woken by the sound of her mobile telephone ringing. Lazily I turned on my side to listen to the one-sided conversation.

"Hi, Sis;" I heard her say. "Oh! That's good!.... Really?......Yes, I'll see Fido's ready for you!"

She put down the handset, and turned to me.

"Come on, Fido! I want some lunch, and you have work to do!" And with that she rose, clipped on my leash, gathered her things in her case, and led me off back the way we'd come, then around the garage and up to the wide front porch.

As I was led up to the tiny cage, I knew immediately what was to happen. I hung back on my leash and began to whimper, to be rewarded by a sharp blow from the crop across my back and the angry words "Bad dog!" Resignedly, I wriggled into the cramped cage; the wooden sides, ends and top were erected around it, and I was left alone in the hot darkness.

Some little time later I heard the young lady come from the house out onto the porch. I heard the slosh of liquid and tinkling of ice, and knew she was taking a drink at the table there. Only a few minutes later came the sound of my Lady's SUV coming up the drive, and entering the garage. Quick, sharp footsteps, and my Lady arrived to join her sister. She was offered an iced drink, and sat in her comfortable wicker chair with a sigh of satisfaction. Her sister began the conversation.

"You really can spend the rest of the week working from home, Sis?"

"Yes, little sister; I don't have to be at Citibank in New York until Tuesday 10th.....How have you been getting on with Fido?....Has he been a good dog?"

"As good as gold!.....He's been very good....and I've taught him some tricks!"

"You must show them to me later...but first...."

Here I heard Her rise, followed by the click/clack of her leather soles and heels on the concrete as She came over to where I lay crouched in the darkness of my cage. Sure enough, the flap rose, and my Lady's dusty black right shoe reated on the grill below my face. I began to lick it, relishing the slick way my tongue moved on the polished leather, and being extra-careful to avoid geting my saliva on her sheer-stockinged ankles. Then she turned her foot on one side and I licked the smooth leather sole, swallowing the mixture of saliva and grit which accumulated in my mouth as I went. She withdrew her right foot, gave me a little water, then inserted the left. I licked that thoroughly too, and finally She took out Her foot and I heard her walk off and re-seat herself.

"It's getting quite good at this," I heard Her remark.

"He's a clever dog!" Her sister agreed.

"I'll shower and change, then we'll try him out at something else...it will be fun!...Will you take him out of his box, sis?....I don't want him to be cramped."

"OK, big Sis!...in a minute!"

My Lady went into the house, and a few minutes later her younger sister came over to me and removed the wooden box. Then she took me out of the cage and led me into the garage. There, to my surprise, she made me stand up. She tied my leash to a ring set five feet high in the wall, and left me. It felt strange, being on two legs for the first time for more than tweny-four hours, and I wondered why I'd been allowed it.

I was not to wonder long; after about fifteen minutes my Lady entered the garage carrying a large cardboard box. She had changed into a neat cream coloured skirt, with a cream top, and linen jacket; flat-heeled cream leather shoes on Her feet. Her sister followed her, and together they began to take from the box leather straps of various lengths and widths.

"There!" said my Lady. "The thick belt goes round its waist......make sure it's good and tight!"

"And these padded ones go over its shoulders," replied her sister. "And here's a breast strap for it to lean into."

Deft hands buckled the straps about me.

"Well, that's its harness on!" observed my Lady with satisfaction. "Now for its bridle and bit!"

I sensed her sister on one side of me while my Lady took up station on the other. Then, without warning, her sister's hand clamped down hard on my nose, my mouth opened in shock, and my Lady rammed the steel bit into my mouth and tightened its retaining strap at the back of my head. Another strap, carrying large leather blinkers, went around the back of my head. The young lady clipped the ends of long leather reins to the steel rings dangling from either ends of my bit and removed my leash. My Lady led me around the SUV and into a clear area where a small, two-wheeled cart stood, its shafts resting on the floor in front of it.

My Lady shortened Her grip on my reins and backed me between the shafts where her sister lifted first one, then the other, to the belt around my waist, and strapped the shafts tightly to it. My Lady then turned me, and led me off outside, the rubber tyres on the high wheels of the cart noiseless on the concrete. Then, lengthening the reins as She went, She walked around the cart. I could tell from the slight heeling of the shafts when She took her seat behind and above me. My reins shook up and down, I heard a swish, and felt a sharp pain in my left shoulder. I knew what to do; I began to walk forward, finding, to my pleased surprise, that the cart rolled after me quite easily. I could see nothing to the sides, and very little in front as my head was pulled down by the pressure on the shoulder straps, but I found it surprisingly easy to move in a straight line, or to turn, if I followed the gentle pressures on my bit. I was driven onto the grass-centred paved path, and here my Lady flicked my rump, causing me to break into a slow trot. A few yards, and another flick warned me to go faster. We went on for some distance at a steady, medium-fast pace, until the path straightened. There the whip fell on me twice, and I burst into a full run. It was pleasant at first, with the air cooling my skin, but quite soon I began to flag. The whip bit me viciously as I unconsciously slowed; I speeded up and ran on. By now I was panting with exertion, and sweating copiously, but the long path seemed to have no end. Finally my Lady allowed me to come to a gasping stop. Exhausted, I stood slumped in my sweaty harness, my head lowered in fatigue.

My Lady let me stand there for some minutes before She flicked my back with Her whip to make me move on again. At a walk we went on, until we came out on the lawn in front of the very summerhouse where I'd spent the morning. The young lady sat at the table on the balcony, a large jug of some iced drink in front of of her. My Lady got down and led me to where She could tie my reins to the balustrade, keeping me in the shade. Then She took a seat at the table with Her sister, some twenty feet upwind from me, and picked up the cool drink her sister had poured for her.

Somewhat recovered, I found I could hear their desultory conversation quite plainly.

"You go far with it?" enquired the young lady.

"Just down to the Long Drive, down that to the end, and round to here."

"About three miles,then.....You give it a run?"

"Drove it hard down the Drive....had to wait a bit to let it cool down.....You want to take it out?"

"OK. Thanks, big Sis!....After I've finished my drink....it is hot today!..What time is it?"

My Lady glanced casually at Her slim Cartier wristwatch.

"Coming up to three," She said lazily.

"Plenty of time then!.....And your turn to cook dinner, big Sis!"

Her big sister laughed tolerantly and poured more cool drink. Standing in the shafts, I urinated onto the grass between my feet. The young lady spared me a glance.

"Think I'll take it out now, sis.....You think I should give it some water first?"

"When you bring it back....not cold water, mind!..You'll give it stomach cramps."

All this I heard quite without resentment, or even surprise. It seemed quite natural to hear myself talked about in this manner, as if I was a tethered beast. In their eyes, and they were the only ones which counted, that was exactly what I was.

The young lady rose and stretched.

"Think I'll go for a cooling ride!" she said lazily.

She descended the steps to the lawn, untied my reins, pulled my head round and got into her seat. The whip cracked down on my shoulder, and I moved slowly off, across the lawn and onto one of the paths which fanned from it. There, perhaps mindful of the work her sister had already put me to, she allowed me to pull her along at a slow, steady trot. She was not as skilled as her sister; her hand was much heavier on my bit, and several times she pulled my head around with painful force. I was surprised by the extent of my recovery, and felt I could keep up this pace indefinitely, until we came to a gentle slope which soon brought me down to a panting, sweating, walk. In the end she alighted and led me on by my reins until we reached the wooded crest of a smal hill. In a tiny glade at the top, she tethered me to a tree, and stretched herself out on the cool, short turf. There she seemed to doze off, leaving me waiting patiently for further use. It was pleasant here, but soon flies and other insects began to bother me. I learned to flick the fringe of hair flopping down upon my forehead to keep them from settling around my eyes, but I could do nothing to dissuade them from my mouth and nose, only to shake my head from side to side, causing the rings on my bit to jingle aganst the steel clips of my reins, and the bell on my collar to tinkle violently.

Perhaps it was the noise I made doing this which awake the young lady, for she rose to her feet, stretched luxuriously, come over to me where she untied me, and re-took her place in my cart. She drove me off, down the slope at a fast run, then at a slower pace along the path back to the summerhouse, where we found her sister drowsing over Her book.

After tethering me, the young lady went into the summerhouse to re-appear with the refilled jug. She sat down, at which my Lady opened a sleepy eye.

"Dear me!" She yawned. "I really must have fallen asleep.....and it's five o'clock already!"

"No hurry, big Sis!" came the reply. "I took it up the hill...and fell asleep myself!...Have a drink!"

"Very well," my Lady replied. "But then I'll have to start dinner.....Will you take it back, dear?"

"OK.....Which reminds me...we really must find it another name when we're using it as our pony!"

"Mmm!" My Lady sat deep in thought for a moment. Then: "I know! We'll call it 'Muffin'!"

(And so it was to be; I was 'Fido' when I lay at my Lady's feet; 'Muffin' when I pulled her cart.)

My Lady rose and left us, waliking slowly along the path back to the house. Her sister sat a while, then got up and rummaged in the in the back until she emerged, carrying a shallow bowl. "Not cold water, she said," I heard her mutter. "I know! The rainwater butt!" She went around the side of the building to re-emerge staring doubtfully at the contents of the bowl she carried before her. She shrugged, and offered it up to my eager lips. The water was scummy and warm; the corpses of tiny drowned insects floated in it, but to me it was nectar, and I lapped it eagerly. Afterwards, she sat, picked up her sister's abandoned book and began to read as the shadows lengthened about us.

I became bored and restless, standing there in my heavy harness, and began to tread the ground impatiently, and to toss my head, making the chains on my bit jingle and the bell on my collar sound.

At last she put down the book and yawned. She rose, and after taking the used glasses and the jug into the back, came down onto the lawn, untied me, mounted the cart, and drove me off. She kept me at a steady walk all the way back - for which I was grateful, for I was very tired - then drove me into the garage where she unharnessed me.

Then it was on with my leash and "Down, Fido!" as I reverted to dog role. She led me from the garage, through yet another door, into a small, fenced, concrete-paved backyard. Two large trash-cans stood in a corner, and, under a short coiled hose-pipe, there was a dripping tap set low in the wall, with a large bucket beneath. In the centre of the yard was a drain, and just beyond that a steel ring had been set into the concrete; a short chain attached to it. I was taken over to it, and the short chain clipped to my collar. The young lady then left me standing there in the hot, airless yard, while she departed through a door which apparently led into the short passage from the garage to the kitchen; a mouth-watering smell of cooking wafted through it as she closed it behind her.

Minutes ticked by, leaving me increasingly uncomfortable. The tether was much too short to allow me to sit; the concrete too hard for me to lie down on, leaving only standing on all-fours as an alternative.

The young lady came back. She had changed into disreputable old coveralls, and she carried a large, coarse sponge, a plastic bottle of liquid soap, a rubber kneeler, and a colourful aerosol spray can. All these she put down while she filled the bucket from the hose. That done, she set about washing me down with the soapy sponge. She washed me thoroughly all over, including my hair; the soap suds ran into my eyes, making me wince and shake my head violently. Then she washed off the soap with the hose, and left me to dry.

Thanks to the dry heat, in a surprisingly short time I was dry all over, and I felt much refreshed, and grateful to my Lady, whose idea I was sure it had been. (But I had the thought that my 'bath' was not so much for my benefit, but for Her's, lest my rank male smell offend Her fastidious nostrils.)

Back again came the young lady. This time she picked up the aerosol can, and gave it a vigorous shake. I had time to notice its label, showing a handsome Golden Labrador above the words 'PetCare - Dog Deodorant' before she began to spray me, paying particular attention to my armpits and crotch. She undid the chain and put on my leash. Then she led me from the yard into the kitchen, from where issued the appetising smells.

The cooking was evidently nearly finished, for My Lady sat at Her ease at the table, a pre-prandial Martini at hand. Her sister led me over to Her and bade me "Sit!"

My Lady looked down on me casually.

"Thank you, little sister," She said. "And thanks for putting his name disc and bell on his collar....Dinner's almost ready; I've set the Dining Room table for you....I'll take him now while you shower and change."

The young lady handed her the end of my leash.

"OK, Sis!...I'll put on my best dinner dress!" replied her younger sister cheekily.

My Lady looked fondly on her, and chuckled indugently as the young lady left. I regarded my Lady with my usual mixture of awe, trembling adulation, and inferiority. She was smartly, though not formally, dressed, in a tan silk dress with a garnet brooch as discreet decoration. Her immaculately stockinged legs were shod in tan leather high-heeled light shoes. I glanced up at Her, then began stealthily to lower my head towards them. She must have caught my movement, for She pulled sharply back on the leash, dragging my head back up abruptly.

"Oh no you don't, Fido!" She told me. "Not those shoes! Now, Sit!"

Chastened by Her tone, I sat meekly at Her side until Her sister returned. My Lady handed her my leash, saying "Take him into the Dining Room, dear; and put him on that long tether."

The young lady led into the large Dining Room opening off the kitchen. It was about thirty by thirty feet square; as they were the only diners, a small table had been laid for them near the fireplace. I was tied by a long leather thong, allowing me to move fifteen feet or so into the room.

A tureen of soup stood on the dining table; my Lady served them from it. Vichy-suisse by the smell. The two ladies ate heartily of the fresh, crusty bread accompanying it. Then my Lady served steak and salad. My Lady drank a Montrachet '94; her sister, with the happy barbarism of youth, drank Coke. My mouth watered freely at the delicious smell of the steak, so much that I dared to creep across the floor towards them, moving so gently that my bell scarcely sounded. Arriving undetected at the young lady's side, I sat bolt upright and stared at her fixedly. The sudden tinkle of my bell alerted the two to my presence; the young lady glanced down at me, a smile on her lips.

"Hello, Fido!" she said. "Have you come for some scraps?....Here......beg for it!" And she held out a scrap of discarded meat at arm's length.

I begged, imitating the way I'd seen dogs do it; crouched on the balls of my feet, my front paws turned dowwards level with my head. The young lady broke into appreciative laughter.

"Isn't he clever!" she exclaimed. "Here, Fido!"

She held out the scrap enticingly. Instinctively I glanced at my Lady for Her approval. She nodded at me coolly. "Take it, Fido!" She commanded; and I took it from her sister's fingers smoothly and neatly, and gulped it down.

I boldly begged from my Lady next, and She too made me beg first, but I could tell that She did not really approve of my behaviour because immediately afterwards She told me sharply to "Lie down!"

Their final course was a light, summery smelling pudding of some kind, after which they sat back in their chairs for a few minutes breathing sighs of contentment.

"There, little sister!" My Lady said teasingly. "That was better than burgers and fries, wasn't it?"

"Much better!" said Her sister affectionately. "And to show my thanks I shall clear the table and make the coffee!"

"Thank you, my dear. I shall take mine out on the terrace; would you bring me a Grand Marnier with it? Oh, and bring me the bag from the Petstore, please."

Her sister smiled in assent, and left. My Lady glanced down at me lying by her chair. She rose leasurely to Her feet, went over to where my tether was secured, and loosed it. "Heel, Fido!" She directed as She coiled the surplus in Her hand. I ran over to Her, and She led me out onto the terrace where She secured the tether to an upright of the balustrade. She took a seat at the table, and I went to join Her, but was brought up by my tether a yard or so short of Her chair. She spared me a glance, but just then Her sister brought out to Her the gaily coloured plastic bag from the Petstore, their coffee, and my Lady's digestif.

I was too busy straining against my tether to reach Her to notice what She took from the bag, but She sharply ordered me to "Sit!" while She fixed some sort of leather apparatus around my mouth and nose, securing it at the back with a strap and buckle. Then She moved a chair near enough for me to get to Her side, where I immediately, with a guilty glance upward, lowered my head over Her shoes.

But the expected reprimand didn't come; instead I heard my Lady's chuckle, and the happy laughter of Her sister.

"Oh, you've muzzled him! Poor Fido!" she giggled.

"He shall learn which shoes I want him to clean and when!" said my Lady, with mock severity.

"Now, Fido....Lie down!"

Still whining with disappointment, I did as She ordered, at which She placed Her feet, in their chic high-heeled shoes, upon my flank. I was much more content then, even when, as the sisters conversed, my Lady would shift position causing Her sharp heels to dig painfully into my flesh.

Finally the young lady, yawning her fatigue, left us for her bed. My Lady sat on in the soft, warm darkness for a few minutes more before stirring from Her reverie and commanding me to "Sit!" I had almost dozed off, amd obeyed sleepily. She removed my muzzle, then I felt Her fingers at my collar and the end of my tether dropped to the floor. I stared at Her in astonishment as My Lady pointed through the open French doors into the interior.

"Fido!.....Fetch it!" She ordered me.

For a second I was confused, then came instant comprehension. I ran through the French doors, through the Dining Room floor, and into the kitchen. There it was, just where I'd seen my Lady put it! I seized the leash in my teeth, and ran back as fast as I could manage, my paws and knees skidding on the polished wood, until I sat before my Lady, my leash dangling from my jaws. She smiled, but said nothing, only took the leash from me and clipped it to my collar. She replaced my muzzle, rose, and tugged my leash gently. I followed Her, walking decorously by Her side, Her skirt brushing against my shoulder and flank now and again, bringing a faint waft of Her exquisite scent to my nostrils.

She led me into the garage, and up to my cage where She wrinkled Her nose at the smell from my stained and discoloured bedding. But She made no comment; merely clipped on my chain, and removed my leash Then She ushered me into my cage, bolted the door on me, and left.

A few moments after the lights went out. I lay down on the smelly paper pad and prepared for sleep, realising as I did so that my Lady had neglected to remove my muzzle.

Might not She remember this, and return? Or would She, as was far more likely, if She thought about it at all, shrug Her shoulders and dismiss the problem until the morrow?

To Her I was only a dog, after all.